At age 26, Lavender doesn't have anything she wants. She has a crappy job, a crappy family and an even crappier boss. But one thing in her life is perfect: her boyfriend.
But one day she gets a random text from a stranger telling her to grow up, thi...
Question of the day: "What's your favourite book genre?"
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Pastel is the most rebellious of us two. Actually, she's the only rebellious one. We're complete opposites. She's loud, funny and spontaneous. I'm comparatively quieter and doubt I even have a spontaneous or humorous bone in my body. The fact that I call her rebellious is that she likes to push the limits. Of everything.
When we were in high school, she was what people in teen novels would call, the 'Queen bee'. And since our Dad was as ignorant as a sleeping watchman, she found alcohol and drugs a privilege rather than illegal consumption. And sleeping around was regular for her as there was no curfew. So regular that we didn't even know she was pregnant until had a miscarriage in her senior year. We were all home that day. I had just gotten in college which was 15 minutes from home and was watching a boring game with Dad when suddenly she came running down the stairs and fainted at the end of the staircase. We took her to the hospital and when the doctor told us she had a miscarriage Dad and me looked at each other dubiously, completely shocked. When we asked her who the father was, all she said was, "I don't know. Maybe Jason. Or that Mark guy. Or Trevor. I don't know."
Safe to say I think the only reason we get along is because of our age. I'm just one year older than her and so somehow our differences.
Even after Pastel's pregnancy incident, dad never gave us a curfew. And now since we are grown women, he can't do it anymore. I think even if he was allowed to put a curfew, he wouldn't ever actually do it.
McLaren's is a bar where Pastel pays a weekly visit. I know that because even though she always outsmarted Dad and sneaked out of the house when he was sleeping, I caught her a few times. Sometimes I think, I'm her parent instead of Dad. I'm always the one keeping her away from trouble. Or at least trying to, unlike some oblivious parents of the world I know.
Woah. Head spin.
I look up from where I'm sitting, and notice Pastel dancing with a complete stranger on the dancefloor. But hey, my vision is very blurry so even though the man isn't unknown, I wouldn't even know. Oh! I just had a revelation! Maybe I'm not a good so-called parent to Paste after all.
