The Hipsters

Gold That Glitters

The uniform was gold and silver. You know, the colors of achievement and success.

According to Penrose School, anyway.

It was a gold polo with silver horizontal lines running across it. The skirt was was an extremely random black. What does that stand for? I asked them that, and got a referral. Gee, thanks guys.

But, knowing me, I threw on whatever the hell I wanted. They used to give me referrals and call home all the time because of that, but I guess they got tired because they haven't done that in a while. And every time I see the assistant dean, he just sighs at me and keeps walking.

I slipped on my Obey hoodie, my tights, and my Dr. Martens. My phone vibrated while I was applying eyeliner, so I had to keep one eye closed as I answered the phone. I looked like a fucking dingbat, walking around with one eye closed. I looked at the screen, and saw Hazel's name.

Hazel: Colin texted me. He wants to meet.

I checked the time.

Me: He texted you at 3 in the morning? What the fuck? Is he horny?

Hazel: Lmao Bea be serious

Me: Okay, then go meet. What's the issue?

Hazel: You were the same person who told me to avoid him

Me: Yeah, but last night I told you to talk to him. Also you know I'm not good with relationships.

Hazel: Fuck me

Me: That's Colin's job

Hazel: I'm going to see him. If I send you pictures of us making out, don't be surprised .

Me: 😉

I stuffed my phone in my pocket and left the room. As I walked downstairs, I noticed my mom was still here, and I quickly turned around to go back to my room, but she heard me before I could.

"Beatrix? You're finally up?", she called smugly. Okay, she wasn't smug, but I like to think she was, so I could be justified for not liking her too much.

"Heeeyyy, mom.", I gave her an awkward smile. I slowly walked into the kitchen, mentally screaming all the words that would make my grandmother's ears turn red. She was making some kind of egg concoction, and I know she's gonna make me taste it. Shit.

"Mom, you're going to be late. Shouldn't you get going?", I gave her a sugary smile.

She chuckled. "Well, sweetie, if you were ever around to talk, you would know that I moved offices. I'm closer to home now, so we can hang out, just like you wanted.", she smiled proudly.

I stood there, flabbergasted. "Yeah, I asked that 5 years ago, in 7th grade. When you were still cool." I mumbled that last part.

"Bea, it doesn't matter when you said it. I'm here now, so, let's hang out. Let's talk.", she said.

"About what? Work? Your new boyfriend? Oh wait, no, your new work hours?"

"Don't be sarcastic. I know things have changed drastically in the past year, but we're here now. We live in Boston, just like you wanted, and you're going to a good school, also like you wanted. My work hours are just a little con in a basket full of pros. The point is, we are here, together. Now, what do you want on your frittata?"

I grabbed my bag and an apple just before leaving, and turned around to look at my mom.

"I never wanted to move in the first place. You never talk to me, because whenever we tried to have a conversation, work always came first." With that, I left the apartment.