"Hey, hon," My mom said when I walked through the door at shortly after 7. "How was your day?"
"Not bad," I lied, still fully intending to keep her ignorant to the fight. My mother was one of those typical pop culture moms. She liked everyone except those who wronged her daughter. "Got my writing project done."
"Good," she said indifferently, leafing through the day's newspaper while the classic television channel droned on. "Got any other homework?"
"Nope!" I lied without feeling bad about it. I didn't know how to do trig anyway.
"Alright," She replied, buying it. "There's some pizza left for you in the fridge."
"Sweet," I said, quickly rushing off to retrieve it and avoid further conversation.
I liked talking to my mom, but I didn't feel I was in the proper mindset to do it. I was still spinning in confusion.
I chewed absentmindedly at my pizza and browsed forum threads with Body Hunter raging on in the background.
When one of the songs hit the chorus, I chimed in and screamed.
Sometimes, you just needed things like that in your life. A harsh, savage chorus set to thrashing guitars, meshing seamlessly with your own screams as they sailed in unison out the window.
I certainly felt better after, even though my mother did yell at me for having no respect.
YOU ARE READING
And Then There Was Vince
Teen FictionThere wasn't a single thing about herself that Vanessa Henley found exceptional. She didn't play any sports, she'd never participated in clubs, and for the most part, she was happy to live her life in her best friend Ashley's perfect shadow. However...
