Taming the Buttercup Girl (GirlxGirl)

The Pretty Little Letter

CHLOE

Pucker up, buttercup!
The letter is manilla, sealed in a mint envelope with my name printed on it, Chloe Kingston.
I bite my lip, scanning the words, almost praying that I didn't get the internship.
No such luck.
I silently curse my mothers old friendship with the misses Daphne Bishop, for it it wasn't for that I never would've gotten this stupid thing. For months I had my heart set on a music internship at the radio station Riven Beats, settled just one state away from me in Seattle. But now, California Bishop mansion here I come!
The front door to my house slams shut, and I hear keys hit the table. Great, moms home. I suppose I could always lie and say I didn't get the internship, tear up the letter and drop it in the trash like I never read it. But I can't lie to her again, and I can't disappoint her by not taking this offer.
I get up from the kitchen bar stool and stand like a soldier towards the hall opening, holding the letter stiffly in the middle of my chest. She walks in, her messy brown hair falling from its bun like a waterfall. She drops her purse on the kitchen counter and then notices me. She raises an eyebrow at my face, but when she glances down the laugh lines streaking out next to her baby blue eyes squint up.
She squeals and rushes me, enveloping me in a euphoric hug and practically swinging me around the room. But her arms stiffen as soon as she tries to raise me, and to stop her from straining herself I hug her back.
"Honey, I'm so proud of you!" She shrieks, and as we untangle ourselves from each other I give her a bitter sweet smile.
"It's nothing that I did. Daphne must still care for you." I tell her.
She shushes me and walks over to a cabinet. "You're going to have to start calling her Mrs. Bishop now you know, you can't give her any sass!" She begins to grab utensils and ingredients from all over the kitchen, and from her picks I recognize the recipe for her infamous homemade brownies. My smile grows more sincere.
"Are you sad about Riven Beats?" She asks as she takes inventory of the ingredients she has. It was a deal between us, if I get the internship than no Riven Beats, it was just my back up. Even though it was what I really wanted to do, I needed to make everything up to my mom. Everything.
"I little bit, but I'm fine with it." I try to make myself sound less disappointed than I actually am.
Mom grunts, not hearing the drop in my voice. "That's good, plus I'd rather have you temporarily staying in a mansion than a sketchy apartment in Seattle.
My smile drops some more, but luckily she's too concentrated on her brownies to notice. "Yeah." I mutter.
If my plans for Seattle had worked out, I'd be living in a cramped one bedroom apartment with my close high school friend Sierra just a few blocks away from Riven Beats Studio. But of course mom would be happier with this situation, I couldn't blame her.
I watch as she flys around the kitchen, mixing and whisking her brownies. I remember the stories she used to tell me as a kid. How she had been best friends with Daphne Bishop and her mother, Kate Bishop herself, had been very fond of her. When Kate Bishop began to rise in fame, it was my mother who received the first dress. She had found the dress in a pastel pink case, with a small manilla tag tied to the front. The words on top were always the same, Pucker Up, Buttercup! Then, on the inside, was a unique paragraph about what it was like to make the dress. My mother told me she had cried when she had opened it, because it was three days before her sweet sixteen and she had finally gotten the perfect dress. I remember her showing it to me in her bedroom, a silky midnight blue knee length summer dress with a pattern of gossamer red flowers circling the hem. She had always been fond of older things, so the dress was very toned down. Still, she said the dress was the thing she most loved in the world before she had me.
I always though that was a sweet sentiment, even if it was truly sad when you looked deeper into it.
I walked up behind her and planted a kiss on her cheek. She stopped what she was doing and looked at me, surprised. I smiled.
"I think I'll have fun, mom."
She smiled back.