THIRTY-TWO

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HER

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con•ster•na•tion
noun
1. feelings of anxiety or dismay, typically at something unexpected.

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I fight the urge to groan as I switch lanes and pull up to a red light. Demi insisted that today would be a great day to ride with the windows down, but every time we stop, the exhaust from the other cars make me so nauseated. I purse my lips, struggling to concentrate on her story as I suffocate in the polluted air around me.

"...then Campbell Murphy said that purple was an ugly color because I like it, but when Jessica said it was her favorite color, he said it was cool. The lack of consistency just doesn't make any—"

"Okay, Dem. Look, you've got to understand that boys at your age—hell at any age—suck. So Campbell murphy liking a color or not shouldn't be your main focus. You go to school to—"

"Learn, exactly Mom, I know. I just don't understand why he's always so mean to me." I glance briefly at my daughter as she pouts in the passenger seat. I'm about to speak when my phone rings. Demi sighs as I answer it, turning away from me and looking out the window.

"Hey," I say, smirking softly when Ethan's voice fills the speaker. I tuck my phone between my ear and shoulder as the light turns green.

"You coming over tonight?" he asks, his velvety voice making my stomach do summersaults.

For the past couple weeks, Ethan and I have been meeting up whenever we both have free time. Most nights we just enjoy each other's company, but some nights we hang with our friends. Nadia and Amber have taken a liking to him recently, and that means a lot. Even Ethan's friend, Rajit, has warmed up to me. For the first time in a long time, it feels like I'm doing things right.

I've been meeting with an attorney, and as soon as I get the money for it, I'm filing for divorce. Until then, I've been slowly packing my stuff and bringing it over to Nikki's house. She has two spare bedrooms, and hopefully soon I can take the girls and move in with her for a while. That's the plan, at least. I'm working up the nerve to actually do it.

All in all, things have been good. I'm getting my life together, one day at a time.

"No I can't," I frown. "I promised Cara I'd come to her game tonight."

"Match," Demi mumbles, turning to face me. "In volleyball, they have a match that's comprised of sets called games." Demi scoffs. "Get it right, Mom."

I raise my bows, as Ethan's laughter sounds through the speaker. "Well then, you sure do know a lot about a sport you don't even play."

"FYI, Mom, when I get to middle school I'm going to play. Just like Cara, aside from the anger issues and slow reaction time."

"Um, Demi...anyways—"

"Also tell Ethan I said hi."

I scoff. "How'd you know I was on the phone with Ethan?"

Demi picks at her chipped nail polish. "Caller ID, and the fact that your voice raised two octaves when you answered the phone."

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