Charlie's Angel

14

My outfit for Halloween was perfect.

Um, I'm a very shy, conservative, soft-spoken person, and my costume just said the complete opposite. My hair was in pigtails, and I wore nerd glasses. I picked out a white button up that I opted to tie it right over my belly button. High waisted shorts that were super short and had the bottom of my ass hanging out–on purpose. Socks that go to the middle of my thigh and some Jordan's.

"Mommy, look!" I turned to see Paris tear away from her teacher's hand and race down the hallway to greet me when I picked her up from daycare. Her eyes were bright and happy, a slight contrast to my bruised ones under my sunglasses. She was holding up a big brown paper bag full of candy. She jumped into my arms and showered me with kisses. Handing me the bag, she began to squish my face between her fingers and physically turn my lips into a smile. "Mommy's sad?"

I shook my head, offering her a smile. "No, baby. Mommy's not sad," I murmured quietly. I fixed her into her seat and set off for home. "What kind of candy did you get?"

She rummaged through the bag and pulled out a tootsie roll. "I don't know, Mommy. They played Mikey Jack today."

I laughed at her. "Silly girl. Did you do the laugh at the end?" I knew she did. That was her favorite part.

She nodded and giggled. "Yeah!" She went quiet and started bobbing her head to whatever Beyoncé song was on the radio. Love on Top, I think. "I love you Mommy."

And just like that, my day got a million times better. "I love you more, princess."

"I'm no princess! I'm Doc McStuffin!"

I laughed again. "Right, sorry Doc." Leave it to a three year old girl to not want to be called a princess. Just like me. When I took dance when I was a kid, my instructor insisted that I work my 'diva.' She tried to teach me how to roll my hips and shake my ass, but my hips just didn't know how to act. I was never a diva or a princess; I was a tomboy. A big one. The only girly thing about me was my dance class, which taught ballet, hip hop, and jazz.

We were home within twenty minutes and I helped her wash up and put on her costume for the little party at Chris' house. Since I knew she was gonna be strung out on candy, I fixed her a little dinner. Grilled cheese and applesauce and some cranberry juice.

After I had her hair in braids, her lab coat on, and all her doctor tools for her, I made her sit on my bed while I got dressed. Since my outfit was a little too revealing, I tied a jacket around my waist to hide my ass.

Out of nowhere, Aaron walked through the closed bedroom door and glared in my direction. "The hell you going looking like that?"

I sighed, finished off my eyeliner–which was extremely painful because of my bruises. I turned to look at him. "A party." Lipgloss done. Mascara done. Blush done. Eyebrow game on point. All I needed was my nerd glasses.

"Whose party?"

"Sam's," I lied. Well, it was partially a lie. She was going to the party. It just wasn't her party. "Why does it matter?"

"And what about dinner?"

"It's already done. Look in the fridge. All you gotta do is warm it up in the oven." I walked past him back to the bedroom to find my glasses. He followed on my heels.

"Go do it for me, I'm tired."

I looked at him incredulously. "Hell no, Aaron. You go do it. I'm not hungry."

"But if you already made it, you should just go finish it," he muttered. "Stop being a little bitch. Go on."

My temperature rose. "So now I'm a bitch because I'm not doing something for your lazy ass? Aaron, if you're hungry you should make food. For you. I'm not hungry so I'm not doing anything."