When I Met Her....

A Test

*DEVON (LAUREL'S FRIEND) UP ABOVE*

A Test

Laurel's POV

"I feel like crap." Steph moans as she slowly trudges into the kitchen.

I turn on my bar stool and hop down.

"No offense, but you look like it." I smile softly.

"Ha ha." Steph grimaces.

"You shouldn't go to school today." I say, lightly pressing my fingers to her wrist.

She looks at my hand and grins.

"You did that yesterday in the car."

"Something I had to learn. So I knew my mom was just passed out not dead." I sigh.

I look at my gold bangle watch and carefully measure out 60 seconds.

"I'm going to school. I'll just be a little late." Steph says, sitting down at the dinner table.

"I don't think dad would support that decision." I threaten lightly.

"You wouldn't dare!" She gasps.

"I gotta do what I gotta do." I bluff, pulling my phone from my white Capri's.

"Fine." She groans, setting her head on the shiny brown Mahogony table.

"Why did you give in so quickly. I was only kidding." I ask, sitting down next to her.

"Your father is extremely dramatic. He'd have me admitted into the hospital before I could even blink." Steph groans, lifting her head only to let it hand limply over the back of the chair.

"I can't take your car and come back to see you at lunch." I offer, rubbing her back.

"Can you drive?" She asks, dubiously.

"Of course!! I turn 18 in like 23 days." I exclaim.

"OK. I guess that works then." She sighs.

I get up from the table and grab my bookbag and coffee from the island.

"I'll be back at lunch. No cooking or cleaning!!! TV and resting only or I call dad." I threaten, pulling Steph's keys from the key rack next to the garage door.

"Your one evil little monster." She glares playfully.

"Bye!" I smile, stepping out the door and into the garage.

In the garage, I look at Steph's car and a bolt of excitement runs though my body. I spin the key chain on my index finger and walk towards the car. I check out my loose ninja bun in the window before I open the door and settle into its cool leather exterior.

********************

"Where's Mommy Dearest?" Macey asks when I step out of the car.

"At home sick." I say looking at the car. "And what are you wearing?!"

I look Macey up and down, taking in her Black Swan nightmare-prom dress.

"Its my style." Macey says, patting the black ruffles the go in a circular motion from her waist to just above her knee. "Everyone doesn't dress like Hannah Montana ya know."

"I don't not dress like Hannah Montana." I shriek.

"Do to." She smiles, dabbing on some bright pink lipstick.

"Whatever." I roll my eyes.

"I do recall her wearing something like that a decade ago." Macey teases, knodding at my blood red button up blouse,  light blue jean capris and some red heel sandles I borrowed from Steph.