One Punch

Pregnant

Andy stared at me three minutes. It's all we could do while we were on our way back home. I was sure mom was irked that she wasted gas money. And now still was getting us home.

The doors slammed again. We now entered the house.

My mom was chill until seconds later after I edged near the dining room table. Her hands smoothed over her face. "Darling..." she never really called me that, "who...got you pregnant?"

I blinked. Said nothing for a few seconds. How do you answer such a question? "Mom...I'm not pregnant."

She ripped the hands off her face. "Tell me you're not pregnant, one more time!" Andy bit his lip. I guess that meant don't actually say it. But was that also a double-entende for the fact I'm not supposed to tell her I'm wrestling. I exhaled...slowly...I had to word this all carefully. My mom would make me leave anything I enjoyed because she was honestly not fond of me. Anything self-liberating as wrestling was a pretty picture my mom was ready to wreck. And if it taught me self defense, from her, even if just the attitude, it was most likely blasphemous to her. "Mom...I need to tell you...things."

"ANGEL!" She said, swiftly coming to me and yanking my shoulders to her. I could promise her head almost hit mine. "I've seen the way you've been acting lately. You're always tired. Unusually. You freakin' eat like a freakin' pig as if you've never seen a homecoomed meal. I'm worried about you...you never...acted like this."

Her hands gripping me tightly loosened up, and her thumbs started drawing circles on my deltoids. I felt almost as if...I was important. Her face was so close, her breath so motherly. "Uh," I had no other way to respond, "okay."

I went back into the table. "Angel...I will kick you out of this house." At that moment I stared st my brother. He had nothing written on his face, but bit his lip constantly.

"I," I turned to my mother, "am on the wrestling team."

"W-whuh-" my mom's mouth hung open as if suspended by wire. "Uh-uh-" A second later, "Wha-whadduya mean?"

"I'm," I breathed, "on the wrestling team." She blinked two times.

"You're on the wrestling team." It came out like a question. "Oh..." her worried mother facade died down, and she placed her hands back on me to slide them down my arms and pat me on the back, twice. "Get out of it."

I could only give her the stink eye right now. "What?" That came out a bit too assertively. And dissappointed. I could not let her know she dissappointed me.

"I said," She grabbed my wrists now and held them close to her sides, "get. Out. Of. It."

I breathed faster...a result of my fight or flight response because you had no idea how badly I wanted to fight her. But I let it simmer...last time I let my anger get the best of me..."Uhm," it was a breathy um, "yes mom."

My brother's mouth gaped. I only looked to him seconds later, once my mom's grimmace turned into a half-hearted smile. "Oh, no," his mouth seened to call out to me.

I just dipped my head down. I was defeated. This match was lost.