I wake up and turn my head towards the clock, wincing as my neck burned. It's 12pm. My mom is probably at work right now. I roll of my mattress and onto the floor. It's not really a fall when you're five inches off the ground, but whatever.
Looking in the mirror, I'm reminded of how easily I bruise. There is an angry red ring around my neck that I can't find a decent way to cover. I turned around to examine my back- it had been giving out tiny needles of pain, like a sunburn against the ribs of my undershirt. I take off Zack's T-shirt and my tank top to assess the damages of my mother's late-night psycho-bitching.
Both of my shoulder blades are stained with deep, blue-green bruising. It hurts just to look at it, and hurts even more to think about it. My mom could've killed me the same way Scott tried to kill Jamie. Life is getting too poetic for words. I should've shut up then, and I should shut up now. I unclip the very last thing between my bruises and the air, then throw on the baggiest hoodie I can find and pray it doesn't touch my skin.
I let my hair hair down and let the brunette mess cover the neck marks. Cool. I can go like this for a few days. The next issue that presented itself was the lack of food in my body. I run upstairs to the kitchen to find my dad sitting at the kitchen table, reading The Economist.
"Hey kiddo, what's up?"
"Nothing much, just getting breakfast- I mean lunch. You?"
"Reading about how Mexican gang violence affects their economy." I pour myself a cup of coffee and continue to converse with the raven-haired geek that is my father.
"Well, it sounds interesting. Too bad I have to leave. I'd love to hear about it more later."
"Oh, sweetie, you're not going anywhere." Like hell I'm not. If I had to be anywhere, it'd be with Carl the Bong & Zack.
"Why not?" He puts down the paper, pushes up his glasses, and raises an eyebrow.
"A cornucopia of reasons."
"Elaborate."
"Well, mom told me you stayed out far too late, insulted her image of Scott, which is not cool at all on it's own, I can tell you were stoned last night, your English grade went down to a B+, and you were supposed to be working on a paper, which I highly doubt you actually did at Zack's house." I freeze. Bright green eyes look at me with mild amusement.
"Fair enough, I'm home for the day. How did you know about the weed?"
"You reek, you slept till noon, and I saw Carl pick up his supply from the family down the street. I've always told you to do your homework before you smoke."
"I thought that was only on school nights."
"Don't smoke on school nights at all, sweetie. No teacher likes worksheets soaked in bongwater." Ah, my dad. The lovable stoner-turned-business man. Such a charmer.
"Have you had breakfast yet?" I asked.
"No, I've just been sittin' here with ma' coffee."
"I do believe brunch pancakes are in order." Dad does not protest as I begin collecting ingredients.
"I got a call from Ms. Honey."
"What did she say?"
"She said your work is even more scattered than usual and she thinks you're having sex with Zack."
"Neither of those things are true."
"Yeah, yeah. Ms. Honey is a nosy little bitch with the wrong idea about you, but she grades you papers, so your work, scattered or not, needs to be dealt with, Do that paper before you fail the tenth grade." I am already cooking up hotcakes for my padre, so I don't feel like leaving to work on any papers for any devil bitches.
"Can I finish breakfast first?" Dad looks at me sternly, the to the chocolate chips I'm adding to the remaining batter.
"Sure. Why not? But we can't have any B's here. You're the only kid with a chance at college, use it."
"Okay..." I put a plate of chocolate chip pancakes on the table in front of him and sat down.
"Where did you learn how to make pancakes?"
"Zack taught me." My dad takes a bite and doesn't regret it.
"Ya know, I like Zack. I see myself in him." I grin. Breakfast is done with in 10 minutes later and I'm told to descend to the underworld and work on my paper. Before doing so, I stopped to ask a question.
"Dad?"
"What?"
"Do you still love mom?"
"Of course I do. I always will."
~
A Day in the Life-The Beatles
