Straighter than Parallel Parking

≈ f o u r t e e n ≈

{ Chapter Fourteen: The Morning After Hangover Painkillers }

IT'S USUALLY THE MORNING THAT REALLY KILLS Janice the most. It's not just the struggle to shift from sleep orientated to wide awake, even if that's the largest challenge when you're trying to get out of the wrapped comforter that makes you feel like a snug little butterfly. It's not even the rush to sprint around, trying to get yourself ready in ten minutes flat, chucking in some three pounds of deodorant (wet your hair to say you've showered), or chowing a slightly burnt piece of toast before you rush to the bus stop. At least, not today.

She started off remotely normal enough with her morning routine. She basically had war with her bed sheets, somehow falling onto her face (getting black eyes from the floor are this season's recommendation), before detangling herself and heading to the bathroom to erase the bitter taste left in her mouth. It was a Saturday, too, so she didn't have anywhere to be.

It wasn't until she got upstairs that her free spirited, happy mood was obliterated by the sight of her father and aunt sitting at the table, looking deep in a debate she really didn't want to be involved in. Sneaking into the kitchen, she decides that she wants cereal. But the minute she goes to the fridge for the milk, she comes out empty handed.

Since the fate of Janice worked on a balancing scale, she catches sight of the milk container on the table that her dad and aunt are sitting at. Seeing there's no other option but to ask for it and hope they don't drag her into whatever they're talking about, she starts to approach them gradually, trying to stall as much as she could, pondering over what could've made both of them look so serious.

Did someone die? Did the house get sold? Did the toddlers find out Santa Claus isn't real and think someone broke their dreams? Janice cogitated, clearing her throat.

They snapped their heads to her, and Janice tried to keep her breathing steady as she noted how absurdly identical the brother and sister resembled with their stern looks.

"Um, sorry to interrupt," she said sheepishly. "But I kind of wanted the milk carton?" With an awkward silence, she stretched out an arm to get the milk and gets ready to exit until she hears her aunt's abrasive tone cut through the air, targeting her out.

"Where were you yesterday?"

Janice slowly turns around, trying to tell herself that, no, dumping the milk on her aunt's head won't get her dad to smile. "I went to work and then I went out with a couple of my co-workers."

But there was this creepy, triumphant smile Maria exhibited that really didn't sit well with Janice. "See, Marcus? I told you she's been sucking in with the wrong crowd. Do you have any idea how late she came in yesterday?"

Janice scrunched her eyebrows at her aunt, felt a haze cover her eyes as she tried to control the harsh words that were about to come out of her mouth, "I came in around 10PM, which is an hour before my curfew. I informed papa about it and also made sure to tell my brothers just in case. My friends were the ones whom insisted we leave earlier, so if anything, I would kindly like to ask you not to bring my personal issues into this conversation."

Took her 17 years but she finally learns self-control.

She caught the proud twinkle in her father's eyes at handling the situation politely, but didn't catch her aunt's mouth curl in repugnance. "If so, what is it with your nasty talking back habit? Did you hear, Marcus?"

Marcus turns to his daughter, frustrated and perplexed with his sister's need for dramatics. But his frustration quickly gave into worry when he catches hurt in Janice's eyes rather than the annoyance he expected. "I had every good reason to not listen to what you say. I am not your guinea pig. You're a guest at my house and I respect that. But it's a two-way street."