Red-Heads On The Battle Front

2. I Hate Coincidences with a Burning Passion

"Gwen" What? "Gwen..." I don't want to know."Gwenwyn Lou-Ann Taylor, listen to me right now!"

"Yes, Mother dear, I can see you are your usual charming self this morning" I said, finally looking up from my book. As I lifted my I eyes from the pages, I noticed she'd set a plate of her best pancakes in front of me. I shifted guiltily in my seat before stabbing the towering pile viciously with my fork and shoveling it into my mouth.

"Chew with your mouth closed, please Gwen. And have you been listening to anything I've been saying at all?""You know the answer to that...but if you tell me now I will" I added hurriedly, seeing the look on her face.

"Our new neighbors! The neighborhood's throwing a party to welcome them." I blinked.

"We have new neighbors?"

Silence.

"Honestly Gwen! People'd think you haven't seen the light of day since summer began!" she burst out, infuriated by my absolute lack of contact with the Sun.

"But I haven't seen the light of day since summer began" I said cheerfully, as I reduced the Pancake tower into nothing. I reached for my books again, but for a middle-aged woman worn down by the brunt of having two teenaged children, she was surprisingly quick. She slapped my hand out of the way and swooped down on my poor paper-backed baby and then it was in her talons.

"NO!" I shrieked as I barreled over the kitchen counter and leapt for her. She deftly moved out of the way and I was suspended for a second before gravity decided that it was a good time to step in.

"Oww..." I moaned into the flour. Hurried footsteps and then-

"Mother, why is Gwen on the floor?" My older sister always called our mother 'Mother'. Celia was the certified genius of the house. She was also a certified pain in the ass.

My point was proved when she leaned down and began lecturing me on proper etiquette and 'the finesse of a growing young lady' like she'd done a thousand times before. I wonder if letting someone on the floor stay there without making any move to help them was considered proper etiquette. Finesse my ass.

I muttered colorful words under my breath as I hoisted myself up.

"Mum, please" I whined "The book...please! I really needed to find out if-"

"You don't need to find out anything, Gwen, and you won't either, if you don't get your bedazzled butt down here for the party" I stared, impressed. Bedazzled butt? That was a pretty good insult. I would do it just for that. And for the book of course. But I growled and stomped out of the kitchen anyway.

"Plate in the sink Gwen"

Ugh

ᴥ ᴥ ᴥ

I muttered angrily as I combed the knots out of my hair. Usually the red mass was in a sloppy bun but Mum decided it was time to make it all princess. Ha. Like that was ever going to happen. I glared mutinously at my freckled reflection. It had taken half an hour to hunt down the comb and another half an hour to drag it through my hair

"Gwen! What are you doing?" Celia popped her head in, looking pretty in her white blouse and mauve skirt.

"Combing"

"You'll be scalped by the end of it!"

I shrugged. I, personally, couldn't care less and there was nobody I wanted to impress, what did it matter anyway? Celia sighed at the expression on my face, forcefully pushed me down onto a chair and took the comb from me. She eased the knots in it and then caught me looking at her in the mirror. She knew what I was thinking.