Lonely Nation

"Bethanie!"

"Huh? What?" Bethanie shouted, yanking the ear-buds out of her ears.

"The family just got an invitation to a New Year's Eve party from the Wilkers," Her mom repeated herself, probably for the tenth or fifteenth time.

Bethanie rolled her eyes. "Oh. So it was you talking to me. And what do I have to do with this party?"

Mrs. Cars gave her a death glare, and spun on her heel as she turned to get a coke from the fridge, making her blond curls flip infuriatingly. Bethany scoffed, not believing that she herself used to do that regularly. "I just wanted to let you know that you, young lady, are going to go. And I don't care if you don't want to. I'm your Mother, and you've got to do whatever I tell you to until further notice. Do you understand?"

"Oh yes, Mother," Bethany said with a sly smirk, a rebellious look crossing her eyes. "I understand completely. But I guess you'll be wanting me to wear a dress."

Her mom scoffed, in unison with the "pop" of the soda as she opened it. "Well, sorry to sound so immature, but duh." She gave a disgusting sneer with a preppy tone in her voice. "You've got ten tons worth of dresses. At least wear one. And how about those pink high-heels I bought you for Christmas some years ago? That hot-pink backless, you know that satin dress, would go perfectly. And I don't care how you do your hair, but put it up or something. That way you frizzed it up makes you look like a rag-doll. I don't know why you gave yourself purple highlights, though. That was so unnecessary." She then leaned on the counter behind her while she chugged the coke.

Bethanie laughed sinisterly as she cocked an eyebrow. She leaned back on her chair casually. "I don't have those anymore. But the hair can be done."

"Oh," her mom said, a little surprised. She recovered in a flash. "Well, you've got all that other stuff. Sorry for trying to help my own daughter."

"Oh, but Mother!" Bethanie exclaimed, her tone thick with sarcasm, "I don't have any of those either!"

"Oh! Yeah right!" she laughed rudely in response. "You can't get away that quick, honey. You wouldn't give up half of what you've got for twenty mansions and a million dollars. Nice try."

"You can go check out my room," Bethanie said smartly. "My closet is empty. Did you know that if you have only twelve outfits, then everything can fit in your dresser? You should try throwing out most of your clothes, Mom. Makes everything so much easier."

Her mom gave her a skeptical look, before marching out of the kitchen, leaving Bethanie with a smirk written all over her face. She just waited, listening for it.

"EEK!!!!"

There it was. The prep scream Bethanie was listening for. She threw her head back and laughed.

Mrs. Cars stomped back into the room, her eyes dark, her posture stiff, and her fake blonde hair ruffled. "Where did you put all of it?" She practically shrieked.

"Out on the curb," Bethanie chirped defiantly.

"WHAT??" She screamed, and stomped out to the next room like a spoiled seven-year old. "Then you just have to borrow from Tiff or Roxie, you rotten little brat!"

"Oh, them?" Bethanie laughed, her chest swelling with pride. "Oh, we don't talk anymore. I'm at the bottom of the food-chain, Mom. You probably have an idea on how that works."

An exasperated sigh released from the living room. "You're kidding me!"

"Nope!" Bethanie popped off of her tongue, as she got up from her seat at the table, and headed to her room.

"Well then you can forget, it young lady!" She called after her daughter. "Forget everything! We'll just go without you, and you can stay here with no one to talk to all night!"

And that was the last Bethanie heard from her Mother that day. But once Bethanie retreated to the refuge of her room, a knot began to form in the pit of her stomach. Sure, they were all going to dress up and go to some fake party, but that was better than being cooped up in your room all of Christmas break. She was getting some of cabin fever. And at least at the party she would have had some attention.