Great Girls(Victoria Pedretti)

C. 9🕰

"What happened to me meeting you at the house, ma?" I asked my mother as I sat in the front seat of her car, arm crossed and furious like the morning I had to get picked up early from a sleepover in middle school because I told all the girls in my grade about what the female goes through post-labor.

"Listen, young lady. We will talk about that later. Right now, you have got explaining to do," my mother admonished, steering the wheel with her left hand while opening a pack of cigarettes with her right. At least, she was struggling to do so.

I held down the pack to keep it from falling so that she would have a better grip on the cigarette. "Thanks, star."

I closed the pack, and as soon as she reached a stoplight, she slammed her foot on the brake, causing my body to resemble a crash test dummy in a video. "Ma!" I exclaimed as my head went from the dashboard to the headrest.

"Well, honey. You should've had your seatbelt on," she says, grabbing the lighter from the left cup holder.

"My seatbelt is on," I snapped as I was hyperventilating at the impact of the car's sudden halt. "It's not tight enough. Look, I don't want to be the type of mom, who judges their daughter for aiding in sexual activities." "Mom, please stop."

"Salinger, as much as you don't want to hear it, I am going to scream to the heavens and the mountains, especially Mount Olympus, so that Eros or as raging hormonal adolescents like to refer to him as Cupid, will know how proud I am of my daughter for finally having sex."

"Uh...you do know I'm not a virgin, right?" I inquired my mother as she began to relieve her tension on the brake.

I noticed the professor not only ignored my question, but she also ignored my gaze. That's when I realized that my mother didn't believe me when I said that I did have sex because when she undermines me, her eyes falter away from mine in an instant. Oh, and the best part of all is that she squints her eyes, pretending that she is having trouble seeing what she is focusing on.

"Professor, you have subverted my authority twice this month," I declared, facing the window with my chin in the palm of my hand. "Twice? When was the first time this month?" my mother asked.

"It was a few days before you left for Maryland when you left Casey Donahue in charge of house sitting while you were gone and didn't even think about asking me to watch the house."

The professor sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned into the parking lot of Carlton's Bakery. "What did you expect me to do, Salinger? She's a freshman in high school, who needs money. I couldn't say no. When you were her age, Mr. Mitchell gave you a job at the grocery store. Do you remember that?" she asks, driving around the large parking lot only to be met by a bumper.

She halted and glanced at me. I sighed, opening the glove compartment only to reveal a pile of Dum-Dums, coupons, a yo-yo, and opened envelopes from God knows what.

I reached in for a lollipop and shut the compartment. "Yes, I remember, ma. I am really grateful that Mr. M took a chance on me, but you're my mom. You don't trust me to watch the house while you're away? You don't trust your daughter?" I interrogate my mother, who slightly loosened her pressure on the brake as I felt her eyes on me.

"Of course, I trust you, baby. I just wanted to give Casey a job to do, you know, give her something to keep her mind off of her day-to-day routine. I mean, it's got to be lonely, having no friends at school, and no one to talk to at home except for your dad, who's interests include mechanics and who's hardly ever home."

"How do you know all of this? Mom, did you stalk her?"

My mother spoke in a monotonous voice, "Yes, Salinger. I have a thing for underage children. In fact, I, even, camp out in white vans and offer 'em candy. Gluten-free to be specific."

She began driving again for two minutes before she found a parking space. "Salinger, ever since your father left for Europe for what seemed like ages ago, I signed up for volunteering at MBHS (Marin Brown High School) in the cafeteria after school because well, I was fed up with not coming home to stepping on your father's shoes that he left by the door because he was so swamped from work." She joked, pulling into the space at a moderate pace.

I chuckled, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Anyway, " Mom sighs, putting the gear in park as she turns to me, holding my hands that were balled in a fist for protection of my Dum-Dum.

"Casey was sitting alone at a table, and I thought that I would cheer up by sneaking her chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen and chat with her. No harm in doing that." 

"You're right, " I responded.

A smile crept in between her lips and she said, "Now, that we're done questioning if mommy's a child predator, we need to talk about this boy you were willing to risk it all for in a public laundry."

I rolled my eyes, pulling my hands away from my mom's clasp and unfastening my seatbelt as I got out of the car.