Strange

6

"Alice what the fuck I'm going to be late!!!!"

You know when you first wake up and your vision is blurry? Andrea is one pre-teen sized angry blurr. My blankets are torn from my body and her stomping around shakes the house.

"I'm gonna be late, it will be your fault, and Mom will kick you out!" She screeches at me.
My vision finally focuses and the once blurry Andrea is now a very vividly pissed Andrea, the sparkles on her dance clothes do nothing to disguise her rage.
I groan and sit up in bed, still drowsy from the Nyquil. I rub my eyes while Andrea throws a Tshirt and leggings at me that she found on my bedroom floor.
Even on Saturdays, Andrea practices dance vigorously. Which means I need to be up and ready when she is, because I'm a taxi and she's a little princess whose mom is too busy drinking green detox juice and typing angry yelp reviews to drive Andrea herself.

Rubbing my eyes, I snarl "I know I'm up." And Andrea flutters away to go find breakfast while I slip on my clothes. I slide my MP3 into my pocket and slump down the hall to the bathroom. The mirror reveals my matted morning hair and I stick my head into the sink, turn on the water. Its cold but refreshing in a torturous way. The light burns my eyes and I attempt to wipe the glazed crust out of the corners of my eye sockets. Ouch.

Mornings like this I don't even attempt to time anything, but Andrea does. Its like we switch rolls on Saturdays. Melissa is downstairs, cooking surprisingly. Who would have thought she needed food with all those detox smoothies?
She spins around and points a greasy spatula at me, narrowing her eyes like a tiger ready to strike.
"You woke up late."
I roll my eyes, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl on the kitchen island and tune out Melissa's nagging. The blender turns on, mixing something..... Purple? Whatever. It helps drown out her voice.
I go to the cabinet, pop my happy pills and wash it down with some water from the sink. They slide down my throat in lumps and the aftertaste of tap water is enough to make me pour myself a glass of milk... Which I also hate. I pour only enough for one or two gulps and pretend I don't notice the taste, because anything is better than the tap water in this god awful city.

Andrea flutters into the kitchen in her dance costume, pulling a plate from above the dishwasher to fill with scrambled eggs. I avoid eye contact but can't help but watch when Melissa plucks the plate from her hand and replaces it with whatever veggie smoothie she was concocting in the blender.

"But.. Mom.." She starts, staring disappointed at the thick liquid.

"No butts, you know you need to drop some of that baby chub if you want to be in the weight range with the rest of your dance class." Melissa interrupts, tapping her long acrylic nails (talons I should say) on the counter to make that click-clackity noise that drives me crazy.

"Not to mention, the eggs are for your father." She sighs. I nearly spit my drink out.

"He's... Coming home today?" I interrupt, stunned. Like magic, footsteps grow louder and my father enters the kitchen, Melissa instantly swoons into his arms and he sets a suit case down on the kitchen counter.

"Morning girls." He says smiling his bright, white, salesman smile. I drop my jaw.

"When did you get home?" I ask, setting my fruit down and crossing my arms. He's been gone over a week, selling houses in California and going to meetings.

"Last night." He says coldly before returning to his grin while staring at melissa as she twirls her blonde curly hair around her finger and giggles.

I grab my shit and death glare Andrea until she gets the memo that it's time to leave.
She sets her nasty detox drink down without taking a drink and we scootch on out the door, escaping the disgusting romance between our step parents.

***