Try And Stop Me (Girlxgirl)

Two

I buzzed her in and Michelle turned to me. I didn't know what she expected. I had to let her in; she was my mother. "I'm not dressed. You're not dressed." She was upset over clothes when we both had bigger things to worry about, like my mother and dealing with the elephant in every room we stood together in; Talia.

I rolled my eyes at her and left her standing in the middle of the apartment to throw on some clothes. Jeans and a T-shirt would have to do right now. I'd planned on wearing something a little less middle class, but I figured once she saw me in that she'd criticize me even more. I threw my hair into a high ponytail and walked back out of our bedroom and into the kitchen where smoke was rising from a pan on the stove. The food in the pan that looked like egg was blackened.

"Did you leave the food on the stove while you were yelling at me?" I yelled as I heard a door slam. Shaking my head I turned the stove off and threw the food in the trash before leaning against the counter trying to take deep breaths before I started dry heaving again. It's happened in the past and while it usually never bothered me, it would definitely bother my mother. I didn't want to latch onto the idea of pleasing her, I really didn't, but what else could I do? She'd always been an absentee mother and I wanted to know what it felt like to have her look at me like I was worthy of having her love. I head the clicking of unforgettable heels on the hard wood floor and sighed one last time before opening my eyes. In front of me was my mother. Her light blonde hair was scrapped back into a high bun on the top of her head. Her black and white pinstriped suit was tailored to fit just right on her slim body, and her black heels suggested she had just come from a business meeting. She looked around the apartment--what she could see of it anyway--and then her eyes fell upon me and she shook her head.

"Are you burning something, Taylor?" She turned up her head and sniffed the air like one of those police dogs who searched for drugs and closed her eyes shaking her head disapprovingly like it was so bad to burn food. Like she'd never done it. Actually, I'm pretty damn sure she hadn't; being rich and spoiled all of her life.

I heard another pair of heels on the floor and looked up to see Michelle wearing one of the many elegant dresses I'd bought her while away on Paris and a set of heels she's owned since forever. Her hair looked like she'd spent hours curling it, although it had just been up. I was the only one who couldn't pull something like that off. I don't think I tried it all that often. I guess I didn't see a reason to.

"Actually, that was me, Ms. Larson." She said, smiling sweetly at my mother, who spared a glance at her for almost a split second then turned back towards me. "This isn't as rundown as last time I visited. Do you remember that god awful apartment you had two years ago?" I frowned. Michelle's smile vanished from her face and her stormy eyes landed on my face before flicking back to my mother's, who was now staring at her. As if challenging her to defend herself. She took the bait, stupidly. "Well that had been my first apartment straight out of high school. I didn't make that much-"

"And you still don't, darling. Your salary is still shockingly mediocre and you're living off of my daughter's success-and even that's not so great." Her tone was condescending and her words were short and clipped, like she was talking to a child who had just broken all of her fine china. I watched my girlfriend's eye narrow and my mother angle her body slightly in her direction, as if she were ready to slay her with the words of a mad woman, or like she was too petty to really turn her direction. I wanted to tear my hair out because it was always like this and I wanted one day where they didn't argue and my mother spent more time actually being a mother and not the bane of all enjoyment like she so usually is. I wanted someone for once to care more for me than they did about themselves and while Michelle did that most days, she still didn't see me the way I was begging to be seen. She didn't see me at all, really.