The Girl Who Wore Jordans

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Five

      “So, that’s how we met,” Trevor concluded, looking over to Mackenzie lovingly as she smiled back. I wanted to gag. Don’t get me wrong—the two made an attractive couple and seemed relatively compatible with one another, but, personally, I didn’t really have any burning desire to see them interact all couple-y right in front of me—especially in my house.

      “That is just so adorable!” my mother gushed, shaking her head as she glanced between the two for a moment.

      “Yeah, passing out drunk next to each other, on a stranger’s bed, only to wake up in the same position with a hangover is a really ‘adorable’ way to start out a relationship,” I mocked with an eye roll.

      “Liz, if you’re going to be negative, then you can just leave!” Monica snapped, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear that had fallen from her loose ponytail.

      “Whatever,” I huffed, placing my arms across my chest in an overlapped manner, slightly defiantly.

      “So, we heard about your sister, what about you, Dylan?” my mom turned over to her next victim who, for some unknown reason, was also seated in the front room of my house with his older sister and her boyfriend.

      Honestly, I didn’t even know how the situation had come to be. Dylan had called me, asking if I wanted to “shoot some hoops” with him. Being the social person that I wasn’t, I answered with a shaky, “Uh, sure,” and he then headed over to my house. Coincidentally, I then got a call from Trevor, who told me that he was on his way with Mackenzie to “crash at Casa de Turner.” Having failed out of Spanish (languages other than English weren’t really my thing) within the first week in seventh grade, I had not even the faintest clue as to what he was talking about. Mackenzie then proceeded to yell into the phone, “We’re coming over, Liz!” which made slightly more sense to me. Thus, I was somehow now stuck in a room with my mom, a boy I had kissed without the knowledge of my boyfriend, the boy’s sister who happened to date Eric prior to my relationship with him, and Trevor. Fun.

      “What about me?” Dylan questioned as I took a large bite from one of the heavenly chocolate chip cookies that Monica had made earlier in the day. She got off work early, so decided that the best way to spend that time was by baking enough batches of cookies to feel a small country.

      For my mom, baking was a stress reliever and something that had the simple ability to clam her. In all fairness, she spent the majority of her time interacting with anorexic models who were afraid to even go in the same room as a plate of butter, so I could see how baking was therapeutic for her. For me, though, I much preferred the ingestion process. Elizabeth Abigail Turner: EAT. My mom had to have known what she setting her kid up for when she named me something like that. It was fate, really.

      “I don’t know,” my mom said to Dylan slowly, scrutinizing his appearance before shrugging nonchalantly. “How old are? What are your hobbies? Do you wear boxers or briefs? How are you doing in school? Do you like school? What’s your favorite color? Do you have a girlfriend? Are you a virgin? Oh! Here’s a good one: Where are you going for college?”

      “Mom!” I scolded, aware that not everyone was comfortable with her boundary-less ways. “Sorry,” I apologized to the only slightly scarred-looking boy, “she’s one of those people that doesn’t filter what comes out of her mouth.”

      “It’s fine,” Dylan assured me carefully.

      “He’s going to join us for college,” Mackenzie piped up, gesturing between Trevor and her.