Terms of Endearment

Chapter 1

 :Chapter 1:

With a cheetah print tracksuit, bedazzled to a point where any self-respecting 4 year girl would be green with envy, stretched tight over her 5 foot nothing body, fire engine heels clanking across the pavement, and her hair styled glamorously in spiraling, voluminous curls, it was pretty darn difficult to miss Margarhita Reed.

That was fine with me - power to the people, ‘let your bro go to the devil in his own way’, and all that good stuff - but it was Margarhita’s particular public displays of, er, freedom that bothered me. I wasn’t a recluse wagging my finger in disapproval (God no! I’m a sophmore, not your daddy. Get him to preach to you about the importance of keeping the goodies tucked in.) at Margarhita’s antics but I was a teenage daughter turning an attractive red shade as her borderline-Lady Gaga mom strutted past a grand total of 100 other teenagers.

Crouched down behind Eloise Haven, I watched helplessly as my mother passed obliviously by all my 'peers'. Eloise, my neighbor,  was a sweet little nerd that actually wasn’t embarrassed at being seen with mwah, Rochella “Rosie” Emmaline Reed, outcast, outlier, extraordinaire.

Now, at first glance to any normal person outside of my hometown, I'd seem like an okay kid: pin-straight short hair that constantly flopped out of ponytails and covered my forehead, dark Irish-green eyes, freckled and flushed baby fat cheeks, and all those 'growing girl' parts. Then you have to take into account that this is the home-grown suburbs where someone getting a haircut drastically changed the appearance of the entire community.

Obviously, my young at heart mom stuck out like a sore thumb. As a result, the offspring of the gossiping housewives and sexist pigs, who drooled over Mom’s tiny body while simultaneously bashing her with the aforementioned wives, tended to avoid and poke fun at me.  Hence the sneers of my fellow high school students.

It was a Friday afternoon and we were having an assembly. Basically, that meant the principal herded us onto the football field and lectured on the importance of 'sharing and caring' and 'excellence in decorum' and all that. Now, most schools would host these little get togethers in the gym, but our school was cheaper than dirt and therefore could not be bothered to waste precious education money on a gym. Needless to say, PE was always an interesting event. The sad thing was, even though our school had been pumping out rednecks armed with a diploma for the last 100+ years, they still haven’t wasted any of our ‘education’ money on the crumbly ceilings, peeling walls, and nonexistent gymnasium yet. Lovely high school, right?

Eloise must’ve been getting a wedgie in her bellybutton-high khakis because she shifted uncomfortably to the right, nearly stepping on my hand and allowing my mom to see me.

“Sugar! Baby! I need to talk to you!” she exclaimed hurriedly, stumbling over quickly in her heels. Mom flapped her arms wildly like a bird, hoping to attract my attention but really making me wish I was in invisible, or a rock, or in Antarctica, or anywhere other than in my mother’s line of vision with the entire school staring at me, aka ‘Sugar baby’.

I sealed my eyes shut, determined to pray to God (or maybe Buddha or Aphrodite for all I knew) and ask to be turned into a grasshopper. Mumbling random Harry Potter spells my mind somehow conjured up, I most likely looked even stupider than I did 20 seconds ago when Mom was summoning me, but it was worth a try. I was on ‘Avifors’ when a shadow fell upon me.

“Sugar!” Mom sing-songed before engulfing my crouched body in a motherly hug. The cloud of perfume that perpetually hung over her invaded my nose, her huge hair stroked against my face, and her bubblegum-smacking popped in my ears.

Leaving my hands limp at my sides, I grumbled, “MooOOOooom. I thought we agreed that you would stay away from school. Especially after last time with Mrs. Marsh.”