In seconds, my final begrudge attempt at focus dissipates. With one fluid motion, the contents of my lap rush to the floor, a disarray of English Literature notes now glaring up at me. I rest two fingers to the temples of my head, gently rubbing circles there in hopes of freeing my brain from this everlasting headache.
A frustrated groan weasels its way past my lips and those unruly curls fall forward in my face. Allowing my fingers to thread through the dark brown locks they find placement in a messy half up half down do. I've been trying to study for the past two hours but can't seem to get myself concentrate.
The time on alarm clock next to the television keeps growing later, 9:45 it read. Forty-five minutes past the hour my mother had agreed to call me every Tuesday and Thursday night. My mind had gone back home, as it tends to do.
It was leaving her that made my decision of going away for college so hard. I worry that without me there she'd find herself settling back into old habits. The divorce took a toll on her. After the forms came in the mail my mother threw herself into her work. She often spent late nights at the office prepping for court, rarely ever coming home unless it was to sleep
Every once in a while I'd bring her by dinner, knowing full well her diet consists mainly of caffeine. The woman practically runs on it. So much so that she dropped at least twenty pounds in the first three months after my father's deviation. Her physical appearance changed drastically in the weeks following the harsh news.
Once rosy cheeks had gone pale, skin sinking deeper into her already defined jaw. Toned legs turned to clattering knees and a shaky stance. Her collarbones were evident as she inhaled and exhaled. All signs of her pre diagnosed eating disorder coming back into the light.
Doctors feared she'd fallen too far into old habits and told me I'd better get her eating or she'd be fed through a tube for the rest of her life. I'd only been sixteen at the time, given the task of explaining to my mom that the man who threw us out like we were trash wasn't worth putting her life in danger.
I managed to have her eat three small meals a day, and the doctors applauded me. But, she only listened to me because I told her I'd prefer having a mother ten years from now.
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It wasn't until midnight did the phone ring. I was planted in the same spot on the couch, with my notes still abandoned on the hard wood floors. The living room was poorly lit and I had to search for my phone in the blankets covering me. I put the device up to my ear and offered a curt greeting to my mother
She huffed in response and profusely apologized for the late hour. "Mom, we agreed you'd call me no later than nine o'clock. I've been sitting here for hours worried sick." I could tell by the light shuffling of papers in the background my mother was still at the office working.
"Stella, honey, I know what we agreed on, but theres no reason for you to be worrying. Time just seems to get away with me these days." I roll my eyes at the notion, because shes been telling me that same thing for the past two years. "You need to work less, Mama. It's not good for you to spend all of your time in that office of yours. Go on a date sometime, didn't you say some cute equity partner asked you to dinner the other day?"
