The Hanna Waltkins Story

Ch.4

        The next day I wake up to the smell of pancakes drifting through the air. I quickly brush my teeth and head downstairs in my pajamas. As I enter the kitchen I see my Mom standing next to the stove making pancakes and my Dad sitting on the island. I slide into the seat next to him.

        “Don’t you have work today?” I ask while my Mom places pancakes in front of the both of us.

        “Nope. I have a day off. But I’m on call. So if the station needs me I have to go.”

        “Hopefully they don’t.” I mumble as I start to eat my pancakes.

        In my house, Saturday mornings are usually calm and quiet. If my Dad is at work on Saturdays (which he usually is) Mom and I usually go down to the Roseland Country Club (or RCC) and we’ll either play tennis, swim, or do the many other activities that the club offers. But since my Dad is home, which is usually rare, we just spend the time hanging out with each other.

        “Mom,” I say as I finish the last pieces of my pancake, “Angela’s picking me up at ten. We’re going to the Roseland mall to get homecoming dresses.”

        “No.” My mom says while putting her dishes in the sink.

        “Mom, I told you, I-”, I look at Dad in reassurance but he’s facing the other way, “I told you last week.”

        She then turns around from the sink, “You dyed your hair purple. Do you really think you would get off with a warning? Your father and I aren’t that stupid.”

        “I never called you stupid-”

        “Hanna, don’t talk back to your mother.”

        I throw my hands up in frustration. “But I’m not. I’m not!”

        “Hanna, call, text or whatever you do and tell Angela that you can’t make it.”

        “Then how am I supposed to get my dress, homecoming is next week!”

        “Hanna” my Dad says with a hint of warning in his voice, “please, just do it.”

        I reluctantly get up, place my plate my in sink and head up to my room. Like Tanners room, my room is the last room on the left. I open the door and jump on my bed, and pick up my cell phone but then I drop it back down. I look around my room, trying to stall myself from texting Angela.  My rooms fairly simple, nothing fancy. I have my bed against the wall and brown bookshelf across from it. On top of my bookshelf I have my TV and next to the bookshelf I have my desk in which my mac is sitting on. On the left of my bookshelf there is a light pink bean bag chair, and next to that is my white closet. Reluctantly I pick up my phone and start to type in Angela’s number.

        The phone rings for a little bit, and then someone picks up on the other side.

        “Hey gurl!”

        I roll onto my back and stare at my ceiling.

        “Hey Muffie. Look, I can’t come”

        The line is silent for a second and then I hear her voice, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “ Oh. Didn’t you tell your Mom we had something planned for today.”

        “Yea, I did, but like they’re really ticked off about the hair incident”

        “Hanna, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, tell them it was me who dyed your whole hair purple!”