Mannequin Madness

Chapter Two

People were watching as I stepped forwards to get into the car, I knew they were. After all, I was the new girl with the ‘fake’ Natalie Riorman clothes, if my family couldn’t afford the legitimate clothing, how could we afford the car? It wasn’t our newest, but it was my mother’s favourite: a sleek, cherry coloured Vauxhall VXR8. Not the flashiest of the three she owned, but definitely attention-grabbing. And I didn’t want the attention.

Resisting the urge to throw a glance over my shoulder at the whispering students, I shrugged my bag off of my shoulders and got it. I might have accidentally slammed the door before I shoved my seatbelt into the clasp. Okay mum, I thought, you can go now. Drive woman, let’s go- get me out of here.

She took her sweet time shifting gears and slowly pulled out of the car park, drawing the attention of even more people. I think she did it on purpose.

“Hello Penelope, how was your day, sweetheart?”

“It was…” A million and a half words ran through my mind, most of which would get me kicked off of Santa’s nice list. “Great. Everyone was really friendly,” I lied, thinking back to the lonely lessons and even worse breaks. Except for Mackenzie, no one had been horrible to me per say, but they hadn’t acknowledged me, either. And that was just as bad. Have you ever felt invisible?

“That’s nice, dear. Can you pass me my phone?” She took one hand off the wheel and held it out, waiting for me to comply and pass her the mobile. I looked at her open palm for a moment; I hated it when she used the phone and drove but she did it so often it might as well be considered a habit now. “Penelope, my phone? It’s in my handbag.”

I sighed and heaved the handbag onto my lap. It was one of her newest and it wasn’t on sale in most shops yet, so of course, she had to show it off. “Where?”

“In the front pocket.”

“Found it,” I claimed and unzipped the front pocket to reveal the small device. “Here you go.”

The case had barely touched the skin of her palm before she’d snatched it away and diverted her eyes from the road. The traffic was heavy and we weren’t going very fast, but that wasn’t the point. My life may suck, but I don’t want to die, thank you very much.

I heard her tapping on the wide screen and eleven little bleeps notified me that she was making a call. I watched as she pressed the phone to her ear and returned her gaze to the road. We were coming up to traffic lights and the traffic was slowing down even more.

I heard the faint ringing for several moments and decided that I didn’t care about whoever she was calling so I turned and looked out of the window. Waiting outside of a bakery, a young boy was doing tricks on a BMX while a mother was trying to coax her toddler into a pushchair. An old couple were sat on a bench, watching the mother and child with fond smiles on their faces.

“Hello,” a tinny voice said, the small noise echoing through the silent car.

“Hello, Ryan,” my mother cooed. “It’s me, I just wanted to check in on the planning.”

I don’t care, I recited in my head. I really, really, truly don’t care, just get on with it. I hated her work. I just wanted to get home, complete my homework and watch T.V or hit the internet. Willing the traffic lights to turn green, I focused on the scene outside of my window again: the mother was still fighting with her toddler, the old couple were now holding hands and the boy had fallen off his bike.  

“Ah, Natta,” the voice continued. “How are you?”

Mum ignored his question. “The planning, Ryan?”