Not Quite Enough

2.April

Dirty Little Secret // The All American Rejects

I park the 'Stang and walk up to the door. Home. I'm dreading this conversation. I'd rather go back to the burger place and tell Nico of the bad pick up lines that he's my one true love and run off to elope than step inside this door. Mom has already let me know in no uncertain terms what will be happening, now that it's happened again, and I have no control over it. No say. I'm not 'of age' so my opinion doesn't count.

I stare at the rusted screen door that does nothing to keep the bugs out due to the lovely slash right through the middle, a parting gift from a bitter girl who didn't leave her name when she left her mark. At least that's what I assume. Reluctantly, I grab the handle to open the door. Mom's words stop me before I get the chance.

"I figured this wouldn't be happening until late tonight. I'm actually shocked it's even before dinner."

I can't see her through the screen door, an effect of the bright light outside and no lights on inside. We often keep lights off. It's not an environmental thing to save the planet. It's more like a money thing to save the bank account.

I hold up my empty fast food bag, all fries and grease having been consumed. I wish I could add 'happily' to that description but I won't kid myself. That was desperation eating by definition.

"Already ate." I crumble the bag with one hand and open the screen with the other. It may not keep the flies out but the door is the only reason the inside temperature is tolerable. No air con bill.

"I'm sure you did. We have to talk about this April. It's not good to bottle it all up and eat junk food to ignore what's been going on." Mom gestures to the bag I just dumped in the kitchen trash. She followed me in here with her words of wisdom. Little does she know I've done nothing about ignoring the situation. I'm just avoiding it as long as I can. But by the way she's standing with her arms crossed coupled with her kitchen declaration, I see that my time is up.

"It doesn't bother me as much as you think it does. The things those assholes say won't matter after I graduate." I have to turn away from her on that last one. We both know I'm minutes from bolting. I could care less about graduating. It does bother me, the lies being told. But if I appear unaffected, the words might stop.

Yeah, it didn't work so well with Nico...

"Which is why you won't be attending that school anymore, April. Starting Monday you are making the change to Jefferson. I'm not messing around with this shit anymore."

Well, that's the nail in my high school coffin. Mom dropped a four-letter word, more than rare in this house unless she's decided for something that I'm against. And I am against moving schools. Why would I want to start all over again with a new school full of jerks? I have no delusions that moving schools will change any of this. It's the same freaking town. Most of the kids at Miller High know kids at Jefferson. Some live across the street from each other because the stupid school board didn't separate the rich from the poor to divide the district in half. They wanted diversity so they literally drew a line down the middle of our town. An even split.

But that means the two schools have mingling friends and neighbors. Which also means there is nowhere to escape except out. The calendar on my wall is the light at the end of this tunnel. My birthday is my liberation day, not from a Mom who I know cares about me, truly loves me. But from the things I can't change, the things I have no control over, the people who have made decisions about me without even knowing me. Mom is too far removed from adolescence to remember what it was like. She grew up before the age of posting every damn thing online and believing everything everyone posts. One out of context picture, clip or tweet and life is over. End of discussion.