Beauty Queen

Chapter 5: Pool Parties and Pageant Girls

The next morning was summoned by a unforgivable shake from my mom. Not too hard, but not gentle either. I could hear her voice as my ears began to function. "Mia, wake up. You need to get ready."

I opened my eyes to find my mom standing at the edge of my bed, shaking me. "I'm up, I'm up," I said, wanting to end the waking ritual.

"Good. Hayley's party starts in two hours. I have quinoa smoothies downstairs for breakfast!" I closed my eyes and waited for the sound of my moms heels descending the stairs, then sat up in bed. I got up and walked to my bathroom, pulling on a robe on the way.

In the bathroom, I splashed water on my face, jolting me awake. From my makeup bag, I selected a light tan foundation, and applied it to my face. After strapping on the usual mascara and eyeliner, I selected a warm peach eyeshadow and tangerine lipstick. Luckily, I had woken up with decent looking hair, so I simply ran the straightener over it a few times, then left it down. Looking in the mirror, I smiled at my reflection, practicing for later. No matter what my mom said, I was determined to make friends today.

With my face done, I walked through my room to my closet. A chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the small room lit up my vast array of clothing. I selected a navy blue skater skirt, and removed my robe to put it on. I put on a white tank and coral pumps to polish off the outfit, then grabbed a big leather tote. I chose a violet bikini to bring, threw it in the bag, then headed into my room for one last look in the mirror.

Hastily, I looked myself over then, satisfied, flew out of my room and down the stairs. I walked to the living room to find my mom sitting on our leather sofa, drinking a smoothie and watching some talk show. As I walked past her, I didn't see her even look at me, but somehow she was able to comment on my appearance. "What is that lipstick your wearing? I've told you, bolder colors look better in pictures. There will be photographers at the party." My mom, finally looking towards me, gave me a look as if to say, "are you sure you want to do that?"

I rolled my eyes and walked into the kitchen. I found a tall glass of liquid on the counter, right next to a bowl of oatmeal, topped with blueberries. I took the bowl and glass and took a seat at one of the stools lined up to the granite bar. This was how we usually did breakfast: my mom prepared something to her health and proportion standards, then left it on the counter for me to eat (or nibble on, in the case of veggie balls, which I hated).

As I snacked on the oatmeal, I took gulps of my smoothie. Thick with oats, quinoa, seeds, an assortment of fruit, and all natural juices, the smoothie was a mandatory part of my day, practically stuffing me with protein and fiber to the point of disgust. However, if there was even the slightest trace of the gooey purple mixture left in the bottom of my cup after mealtimes, it resulted in an unbearable workout, on the spot.

I finished my smoothie in Olympic timing, then scooped the remains of my oatmeal into the trash. The thick, clumpy substance landed in the garbage with a satisfying plop.

I made my way to the living room where my mom was- thankfully- finishing her quinoa smoothie slurping festival, one that was enjoyable for only her. "Well," I said, pressing my lips tight, "we should get going, I guess." My mom agreed and ran to the kitchen to put her glass in our stainless steel dishwasher and grab her Louis Vuitton. After a minute, she stalked out of the kitchen, ready to leave.

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We arrived at the Trumonte home at precisely at 10:45, 15 minutes before the party was scheduled to start, but the party was already in full swing, with cars already lining the street and even more arriving, and distinguishable teen-pop music booming from the back yard. My mom dropped me off at the curb, sending me away with several reminders ranging from "it's not too late to change your lipstick" to "eat and you're really in for it". Let's just say, the escape could not have come at a better time.