Taylor

Chapter 1 | Ms. Ivy League

It was a few minutes after five in the morning, the roosters were just beginning to crow and here I was lying in bed staring at the blurred ceiling.

I'd been like this for a little over an hour now. Talk about crippling anxiety, I thought grudgingly as I wipe a fresh trail of tears off my cheek and turned my back on the sunlight emanating through my curtains, willing myself out of existence.

"Ivy, time to get up! " my mother shouted from downstairs, interrupting yet another unsuccessful self-pitying session.

Groaning, I threw the covers off and got up to make my bed. "I'm up!" I shouted back before plodding to the bathroom to relieve myself and freshen up.

When I emerged from the bathroom an hour or so later, I found my mom neatly laying out a pants suit on my bed.

"What's that?" I asked, walking around her to get to my vanity.

"What do you mean 'what's that'?" she mocked playfully. "It's what you're wearing to your interview today."

"Mom, you already decided on what I'd be wearing, remember?" I quickly grabbed a matching pair of black underwear from the top drawer of my vanity and closed it.

"Yes," she agreed, turning me around to face her and pushing my hair behind my ears, "but I changed my mind. Besides, this colour will look so much better against your skin."

"Whatever," I mumbled as I picked up the suit and headed back into the bathroom.

"What did you say?" I heard a hint of sternness in her voice and could just picture her standing there with her hands on her hips while she stared disapprovingly at my back.

"I said thanks," I lied before closing the door behind me.

A little over twenty minutes had passed when I exited the bathroom again. I checked the clock on the wall above my vanity and saw that I had more than enough time to get to my interview. So, I leisurely packed the fake beige Michael Kors bag my older sister got for me from a Chinese store on Regent Street and slipped into a matching pair of beige pumps I got for myself online. With my phone and keys in hand, I made my way downstairs and into the dining room.

"Awww, you look beautiful, hun," my mother gushed as she placed a bowl of plantain porridge at my place on the table and one in front of my older sister, Genesis, who was already seated.

"Oh geez!" she exclaimed with an eye roll. "Porridge again?"

Mom ignored her and disappeared back into the kitchen.

I laughed and took my seat. "Thanks, Mom," I shouted after her before digging in.

"Thanks, Mom," Genesis mocked. "I swear, you're so far up mom's ass, people gon' think you came from there," she jested, cackling at her own joke.

"Gen, language," Mom scolded as she took her place at the table. "And you're welcome, dear." She smiled at me.

Breakfast turned out to be much quieter than usual as mom was busy texting her boyfriend, whom I did not approve of, and Gen was watching an episode of one of her favourite TV series. So, I quickly finished my breakfast and excused myself from the table.

After placing my dishes in the sink, I ran upstairs to rinse my mouth with some Listerine then I returned to the dining room to collect my things and say goodbye. "I'm leaving guys. Have a good day."

"Yeah, whatever," Gen muttered, without sparing me so much as a glance.

My mom smacked her on her arm before getting up and walking me to the garage. "I can only imagine what's going on in that beautiful head of yours," she began as she gently smoothed my hair back, "but, honey, you got this."