What Happened To Forever?

Chapter 2: Ice Cream and the Evil Redhead

I thump down the stairs slowly and walk to the kitchen. Taylor is sitting at the table talking with my mom and shoveling in her pancakes like they would be snatched from her at any minute. Her bright blue eyes are lit up, so I assume they are talking about Mom’s job as a criminal defense lawyer. It’s always been Taylor’s dream to be a lawyer so she gets advice from my mom. They look up when they hear me enter the room. Mom smiles and moves to hug me.

“Hey pumpkin,” she says, ruffling my hair. “How’s my sleeping beauty?” Her eyes are troubled and I can tell she’s worried about my answer.

“Fine.” I say, holding her intense gaze. The gray eyes bore into my skull, but I stand my ground. Dad used to say I should get an award for how well I can act. When I was young, I was a drama queen. I wore ridiculous costumes, imitated famous celebrities and slathered on tons of makeup like it was sunscreen.

My IPhone rang loudly, giving me an excuse to wander out of Mom’s line of fire. Taylor practically pounced onto the phone, her French Manicured nail tips yanking it out of my grasp . Quickly examining the caller ID she pronounced, “It’s Alex!”

“Thanks, Taylor.” I reply sarcastically, plugging my ear with my finger as a sign to hush up.

“Hey,” Alex says. “How are you?”

God. Why was everyone so concerned with me? I didn’t get this kind of support when Dad left. And I was only 7 then. Who knew you could be so emotionally scarred at such a young age?  I think sarcastically.

“I’m okay. How about you?”

“Getting better. Listen, do you and Tay want to grab ice cream later? It’ll be on me.” He laughed as he knew my thing about spending money only when I need to. Usually this would be the perfect pick-me-up, but today it doesn’t seem like much fun. Plus, it’s the middle of winter. We’ll probably freeze. I grimace as Taylor starts giving me puppy dog eyes and whimpering.  “You’re pathetic.” I mouth to her.  She seems taken aback, the hurt clearly registers in her eyes.

“Okay, fine. Pick us up around 12,” I groan. This is exactly the thing I do not want to do right now.

Taylor begins her manic-like happy dance around the table, which involves the doing the dougie, macarena, and some twirling.  My initial thought is “Grow up Taylor.” I almost let it slip out, but I manage to seal my lips. Fighting with one of my best friends isn’t going to benefit me at all right now. I need all the support I can get. 

Twelve o’clock rolls around all too quickly and before I know it the honk of Alex’s Ford pick-up truck sounds from outside. I peer out the window and see the rusted blue paint and Alex sitting behind the wheel, eyebrows furrowed as he types something on his phone. Probably Ryder, I think angrily. She’s practically thrown herself at him (like a slut, might I add) and she doesn’t get the hint. What Ryder does to him makes my blood boil.

Picture the meanest girl you’ve ever met. Multiply her by 25 and you haven’t even come close to how horrible she is. Ever since preschool, Ryder has been queen of our school. She has also chosen me as the official scapegoat. She made fun of my hair, the way I looked, what I wore. But the worst thing that she ever did to me was something imprinted into my memory. 

It was Bring Your Dad To School Day. The third graders of Mrs. Cohen’s class were all in their desks. I was one of them, seated at a group with Taylor and two other girls whom I am no longer close with, Elise and Kristina.  This was about 3 months after my dad had left us. The dads were all lined up against the front blackboard, smiling and waving to their children. I sunk down low into my seat so no one would know I had no one to smile and wave back to.