The Price of Falling

Chapter 2

High School

"Griffin Ruth Smithey, if you're not out of bed in four seconds, I will come up there!" my mother shouted from the bottom of the stairs. I wasn't much of a morning person in high school. Come to think of it, I'm still not. I rolled off of the bed and crawled over to my dresser to pull out clothes for the day. I looked at the clock on my nightstand and quickly woke up when I realized I had better get a move on if I wanted to shower before school.

"I'm up! Just showering!" I yelled back down the stairs before my mom made good on her threat. I passed the photo of my dad on the wall in the hallway and gave it an air-high-five before stepping into the bathroom. He had been gone for almost ten years, and some days were easier than others.

Once I had let the hot water run out, I stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and put my clothes on to go downstairs.

"Good morning, zombie," my mom tried to use her nonexistent sense of humor. I plopped down on the bar stool at the counter in front of the plate of eggs she had made me.

"Mmmm," I grumbled. "Thanks for breakfast."

"You're welcome. I have a double-shift at the hospital, so I probably won't be here when you get home. Do you have anything you're doing after school today?"

"Not really. You sure you're not just going on some secret date?" I asked her, winking.

"No, Griffin. For the love of all, I haven't dated in over twenty years, and I don't plan to start now. Especially when my main concern is trying to get you through high school," she said with a disgruntledly amused expression on her face.

"Mom, you act like I don't have a 3.9 GPA and enough club references to fill the entire state of Washington." I had been in four different clubs, and been the future valedictorian of my school since my freshman year.

"What I mean is, I'm trying to get you to actually enjoy high school. Have you thought any more about prom?" This woman, the person who gave me birth, the one who loved me most in the world, had not stopped pestering me about prom since I was four years old. She desperately wished for me to be a girly-girl, but I was too much like my father. I loved books, and music, and being outdoors, and I did not bat an eye when makeup or dresses were mentioned. And my mother hated it. Not in an "I regret having this child," kind of way. More like a humorous, "I wish you were more like me," parental-jealousy-competition-type thing.

"Ugh, please stop talking about prom. I already told you I would go," I groaned as I picked up my orange juice and took a swig.

"I know, but it felt like you were just trying to get me to stop talking. You and Molly haven't even gone dress shopping yet."

"Prom isn't for another two months." I doubted that the mall would sell out of prom dresses this early. But, my mother knows my impulsive need to have everything ready ahead of schedule, and she was using it against me. "I'll talk to her about it today," I said when she looked at me with puppy-dog eyes.

"Thank you, darling. Now, I have to go before I'm late. Don't forget to text me when you get home," she said grabbing her keys from the table by the side door. "And be good!"

"I always am, mom. Love you!" I shouted at her back. She held up the sign-language for "I love you," as she shut the door with the other hand.

***

"What's up, bitch?" my best friend Molly said with a giant smile as she flopped into the passenger seat of my car.

"I'm not nearly as much of a bitch as you," I stuck my tongue out at her as I watched her put her seatbelt on. I put the car in drive as we continued our banter. "Hey, so you know how my mom's pestering me about prom?"

"Yeah. You're still going, right?" Molly looked at me expectantly when she asked. I rolled my eyes at how badly the people in my lives wanted me to go to a stupid dance.

"Yes, I'm still going, just so I can be a third-wheel with you and Jason at the prom." Her boyfriend had pulled some elaborate stunt and dramatically asked her to go to prom with a flash mob on the football field with all of his teammates. It had been vomit-inducing. And she had a grin the size of the Pacific ocean plastered on her face for days after.

"Good, when are we going dress shopping?" She ignored my snarky comment.

"Okay, Dianne, chill out." I called Molly by my mother's name and dramatically flicked my turn-signal to turn into the school parking lot. She flipped me off and then smiled. She knew she had won this argument.