Uncharted

Chapter 3: Livin' Like Larry

One of the greatest things I worry about with marriage, apart from whether I want a mermaid dress or ball gown, is how my husband will react to the sight of me in the morning. I definitely do not wake up looking flawless nor am I a ray of sunshine for that matter.

Waking up is probably the second hardest part of getting ready for school. My unbreakable tendency to set my alarm to wake me up at the wee hour of the morning, six o' clock, but then submitting to my sleepiness by the reassurance that I have time and waking at six-fifty. By then I realize that I could possibly be late for school so I rush quickly into my bathroom.

Since my skin is not the most radiant, though it has improved tremendously since my junior high years where I had constellations on my face, I have to wash my face with some ancient medicinal mask that my grandma claims will make me gorgeous. I truly believe that stuff contains magical properties because after I wash my face I feel as though I am Beyoncé. Studying my bare face, I decide that today is a no makeup day as almost everyday is, except when I decide change things up and use some mascara to enhance my already super curly lashes.

The hardest part of the morning is making my hair look less like a tornado went through it and more like the model in those innuendo filled Herbal Essences commercials. After four years of growing it down to my lower back, it's still as difficult as when I cut it boy short.

Staring at my reflection I decide to do the laziest hairstyle possible, a strategically-styled-messy bun, but not without moisturizing my hair first with water, then coconut oil, and some cream. I truly thank God for those natural hair gurus on YouTube.

Slipping on the clothes I layed out last night, I race down to the kitchen, find two pieces of bread, and proceed to make a Nutella sandwich and a steaming mug of chamomile tea at the breakfast bar.

"Good morning Kennuko. I wanted to make you a frittata this morning, but I've had very little sleep this week." My mother's sweet voice chimes.

"Don't worry about it, Mom! Do you have work today?"

"No, I'm off today. We could go shopping after school or something."

"I'm not sure, Lauren and Vanessa might already have plans to drag me shopping." I sneer.

"Aww come on, you say that like it's a bad thing."

"No, it's nice of them to invite me but I just don't feel like we aren't as relatable as we were before. And not to mention I still have a lot of work to do to vamp up my application for Oxford." I stare at my cup.

" It's your last year of high school so you should try to make it as fun as possible." She replies staring at the newspaper in her hand.

I gape with my eyes wide at her in surprise.

Who who is this woman and what has she done with my mother?

Looking at my reaction she laughs. "I know, your father and I have always pushed you to be the best in school and to put academics first before fun but you've already done that. It's time to relax and just enjoy your senior year. Besides, you've practically been accepted to Oxford so there is no need to stress over that."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." I mumble staring out the window.

"Why don't you throw a pool party! It would make use of that pool you had us build during your swimming years."

This is getting too weird. Why is she acting like this?

"Mom, I'm starting to wonder if this lack of sleep is starting to cloud your judgment." I answer with a straight face.