The Senior Project

Chapter Eighteen | Explosion

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN~
EXPLOSION

The sky was dark and grey with storm clouds today. It seemed fitting to be so gloomy on such a dark day. I could see the lightning flashing in the distance like angry jolts from the heavens. Of course, my family members were all trying to act normally today, but with the heightened tensions characteristic to today, I had already anticipated the argument between my mom and myself.

"I want to see your presentation before you hand it in!" Out of habit, I'd told my mother that I was done my project and she was determined to view it before I handed it in.

"Why?"

"I've given you so much time to do it all! I think I deserve to see the results don't you think?"

My mind immediately came up with my usual response of dejected submission as if it were part of a script, and from the number of times we've had this same conversation, there might as well have been a script. As always, I felt a need to protest against her. In a flash of unusual courage, I ripped up my metaphorical script and went with the flow of emotion flooding though me.

"No."

"What?" she demanded, shocked.

"No. You can't see this. There are personal things here that you're not supposed to see."

"And the rest of the class can?" she clarified dryly.

"Yes."

"This new, rebellious attitude of yours is not desirable Celia. You need to be able to work under a supervisor in the future." She paused and her lips slid up in a sly grin. "I bet you got it from James. He does seem like a bad influence."

The last comment got me riled up. I could take her insults, but when she began insulting my friends, that was overstepping huge line. "First off, it was a coincidence that I got paired with a guy, I had absolutely no control over that. So why don't you shove your grudge against James up some dark alley in your soul and forget about it?" I winced internally at my own rude words but the anger rushing through me was just too much to stem. "Also, I don't get why you have to push me so hard with my work. I get that you want me to do well but you can't keep track of my work forever! I need to learn to be independent! I can't rely on you to check over my work every time and correct things and for goodness sakes, you do it for me when you think it's under par!"

My mother looked puzzled and a little lost when I strayed from my usual submissive response. There was a charged minute of deadly silence until she thought up an angered reply.

"You're right Celia! But, it's because I'm looking out for you," she snapped, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face.

We both saw right through the ridiculous argument. She and I both knew she couldn't keep me sheltered from the world for much longer.

"And you realize I'm eighteen, almost through with high school, and you won't be able to control me for much longer?" I asked, calmly.

"Until then, you're living under my roof and you'll abide by my rules. Got it? Or mark my words, I will not hesitate to kick you out of this house once you're done with school."

That one hurt.

My heart clenched in on itself when she hurled those new words at me. My mind froze as it processed that little sentence. I took in her flushed, angered expression and her serious face. She seemed to really mean it. Rage, red-hot rage filled my system, making me feel invincible and immune to all her insults. It built up my boldness and blinded my common sense and logic.