"I should've expected this," my mother told us, her head in her hands. "I used to give the boys the run around back in my day," she chuckled to herself. "I should've known Gialla'd be the same way with the girls."
My mother brought her head back up, staring at me and Tara across the dinner table. I had laid everything out before her that had happened since the beginning of the year. Now she was digesting it. And I could tell that something was still missing for her taste buds. "So," she stared at her manicured nails, "you used Adrianna as a rebound basically from ole girl here...even though you and Tara never dated. Do you have any feelings for Adrianna? What about Tara?"
"I have some for Tara. I always have," I admitted, not able to look Tara in the eyes as she sat next to me. "But Adrianna...? No."
"Hm," my mom nodded to herself. "Just as I knew."
"You can say you told me so," I rolled my eyes.
"Mhm. I'll save that for later. So now what?"
"I wanna beat her ass-
"Tara," I hissed.
What happened to the Miss Perfect act she had going back at school? The oh so respectful girl who could sway any teacher? The good manners chick? Now she cussing in front of my mother? Hell, I barely get away with it.
"My bad. I'm just..."
"Drunk? Pissed off? Tired?" my mom listed, chuckling.
"Mom," I snapped, not liking the way she was laughing at Tara.
"All those," Tara blushed besides me.
"I don't suggest doing anything to Adrianna. I know it sucks to have a bottle thrown at your head, but I don't need either of you to end up in jail. Tara," my mom pointed at her, "Call your mother and make sure she knows you're fine. I'm sure the school has already realized you're missing from class."
"Great," she sighed, standing up and pulling her phone out as she walked to the door.
"She's not gonna be happy, is she?" I asked Tara, referring to her own mom.
"She's hella big on school, when I could care less," Tara shrugged. "No matter what happens, she's always mad when I leave school."
Great first impression in front of my mom, Tara.
"She'll understand," I said softly.
"She's fed up with me, man," she sighed heavily. "Fuck calling her. I'll just go to da house and talk to her in person."
I glanced back at my mom. "Can I go with her?"
"No. This is Tara's business," my mom stated.
"But she needs support," I argued.
"No. And that's my final answer," my mother said sternly. "I could've kicked you out after all the shit you just told me. Be grateful, Gialla."
"Be grateful for you to be understanding? Be grateful that you recognize me as a human being who makes mistakes? Be grateful for the bare minimum?" I argued back. "I am grateful."
"Gi, stop. You're just angry about other stuff. Don't take it out on her," Tara pulled me away from the table.
"I'm 17. You can't tell me everything to do. I might not be an adult, but it's time for me to be able to make a whole lot more decisions for myself than I've been doing," I snapped. "I'm not 16, I'm not 15, I'm not 14, and I'm damn sure not 13."
"Now watch your mouth," my mom snatched me up by the collar, taking me out of Tara's grasp. "I raised you. I feed you. I do everything for you, and I'm here when you need a shoulder to cry on. Don't you dare disrespect me like that again, Gialla Lyric Collins, or so help me, I'll take you outta this world."
