ROSES & THORNES

Opposites Atrract

"Did you find anything that you liked?"

"I could be asking you guys the same thing." My parents brought bag after bag back into the house. The heat was so smoldering, they didn't dare waste any time getting them inside.

"Your mother did a little shopping." My dad made a face that made me smile.

"What, I just brought a few things that would look nice around the house." My mother said defensively. "Oh, and I found you this cute little skirt."

There were a few silent moments before my dad and I went on a laughing fit. "I'm sorry, did you say skirt?"

My mother huffed before laughing herself. "I just thought you might like to try something different for a change."

"Mom, come on, have you ever seen me in anything besides ripped jeans and band t-shirts?"

"Don't forget sharpied converse!" My dad called from the kitchen.

"What he said." I added with a smile. My mom had been trying to get me in a pair of heels since she found out I preferred to wear red lipstick and listen to music like Rage Against the Machine. I wasn't an all out doom cookie, I loved to paint sensual scenes and read sappy romances in the confides of my room. But, my wardrobe did only consist of mostly ripped jeans, ratty t-shirts, and tattered jean shorts cut to low. My friends back home were my complete opposites. Meredith, the girl who'd been my best friend since freshman year, was captain of the girls Lacrosse team. There wasn't a day when her athletic calves weren't in a pair of heels that I would break my neck in if I even looked at them too long. While Sarah, the It girl, cliche but true, strutted down the halls of our high school sporting the latest designer hand bags with the captain of the basketball team on her arm.

I on the other hand, was the pretty brunette in art class who stayed in fish nets. I'd once dated the football team's quarter back, but there was only one thing that he wanted, and it wasn't me. If I hadn't ran into Meredith and Sarah that one time in stupid piano lessons that my parents put me in freshman year, I would have never met them. My social status would have been right between muck and loser. Not that I cared what others thought, but it was nice to have those two close friends. Thinking about them made my insides hurt. Here I was all the way in bull shit Arizona while my best friends partied on California's sunny beaches for the summer.

"So, I thought that we could repaint your room a darker color. You know, how you liked that red when we were in Lowes? Then, we could add like, this black flower vine thing across the wall. You could even paint-"

"Okay, mom, it's fine. I actually like this color. It's...serene."

My mom sat on my new bed looking at me strangely. "You...like this color?" She smiled. "Maybe this move was just what you needed."

"Ohhhhkay! You can go now." I scratched the back of my head as I pointed towards my bedroom door.

She fluffed my pillows one more time before walking out. I looked around at her handi-work. She was in fact an interior designer. The furniture had arrived and we spent the day setting my bedroom up. My bed was a black high four posted queen with mounds of fluffy black and white pillows. The dressers and night stands matched the dark, black wood of the bed frame. She switched out the old ceiling fan and traded it in for a faux crystal little chandelier. She'd hung sheer black and white curtains that matched the pillows on my bed. My TV had came, it was rooted off the wall and swiveled in which ever way I decided. There weren't many other knick-knacks added yet. But it would have to do. If I had to admit, it was pretty decent. Not what I would have gone with, but decent.

Finally, I got to sleep good. I woke feeling refreshed and revived. There was the sensation in me to paint, but it was quickly killed when I realized I had nowhere to actually paint. Everything I needed was still boxed up in my closet anyway. I sighed. Why couldn't I just go home? I didn't want to be here.

Again, we spent the day unpacking. This time we worked on the kitchen. I helped my mom paint it a subtle egg shell yellow. It was yellow enough to be called yellow, but subtle enough to not be down right hideous.

She had switched out the ceramic counter tops for granite and brought in a new stove. The table we purchased from a catalog a few weeks before moving here had been delivered. It was a tall mahogany table with a smooth black top and tall leather chairs. I helped her stack dish after dish in various cabinets. I mean come on, there were only three of us living here.

"Hey, where's dad. I haven't seen him since we finished painting."

She brushed a piece of blonde hair from in front of her face. "Oh, he's working on...his own special project."

I raised a brow, but asked no further questions.