The Bucket List

T e n

I sit and stare at the newly painted wall for hours, my tears drying on my face and my sniffling echoing out through the room. I try to process my mother's words, my words, but it's so confusing. Did I mean what I said last? Do I really not want to be the calm, perfect Marcy everyone knows? Or do I just want a little change of scenery? I don't even know.

It's ten o'clock at night when my mom knocks on the door and pokes her head in, her blond hair swishing behind her as she walks in. "Hey, hon," she says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She can tell I've been crying, I'm sure of it. I don't respond.

She sighs. "I'm sorry I got so upset. I'm just not used to this behavior from you."

Well, you better get used to it, I want to say. Considering the fact that my bucket list isn't even half finished, I'd still have a while before my actions would return to the calm, organized state they were in before. And even then, I'm not sure Jarred would let me.

"Why do I have to be perfect, mom?" I whisper, my eyes moistening again as the words leave my mouth. "Why can't I have fun sometimes, too?"

"Oh, sweetie, of course you can have fun," my mom reaches out to dry my tears. "But be honest: did you really enjoy pranking that teacher?"

I swallow hard, trying to face the truth. It takes me a while before I can croak out, "Yes." My mom seems taken aback as I continue. "I was happy, mom. I've been happy doing almost everything Jarred has done with me. After all, they were my ideas."

My mother's face contorts from shock to confusion. "What do you mean?"

Sniffling, I get up and walk over to my desk, where my bucket list is lying. I still haven't marked off Have a bake-off, but I have bigger problems to worry about, such as eternal grounding.

I hand it to her. "This is my bucket list. These are all the things I've seen others do but never had the courage to do myself. And Jarred's helping me, mom. I've never felt so brave before in my life."

She glances between me and the bucket list. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asks, her voice cracking.

"I knew you wouldn't approve." I explain. "And, frankly, it was nice to have this one thing be private, just for me and Jarred."

Mom is quiet for a while. I shift awkwardly in my seat, playing around with the piece of paper lying in the space between us. I almost jump when she finally replies. "I'm glad you told me," she says. "And I'll let you continue, under a few conditions."

You and your conditions, I recall Jarred's words, and a hint of a smile rises onto my face. "Okay," I nod.

"One: you have to tell me in advance if you're going to be staying up late. Two: tell me before you go out, so I don't get worried. Three: no more lies. And I really mean it, Marcy. If you lie to me again, you're grounded for the rest of your life."

I try to ignore the threat and nod in compliance. "Sure." She turns to leave, and I let a smile creep onto my face as I glance at my cell. Mom is almost out the door, but I turn to her and call, "Hey, mom?"

"Yes?"

I take a deep breath. I'll have to get used to this. I take a moment to work up the courage for my next question. "Can I go to a party Thursday night?"

I can see the conflict on her pale features as my mother debates. Then she sighs in defeat, straining a smile. "Sure, honey."

I blow her a kiss as she leaves the room, shutting the door behind me. Then I lift my cell off the bed and open up my chat with Jarred.

Forget what I said earlier. I'm coming to the party.