SAY MY NAME - [J. DESCAMPS]

ONE

ROSE

Running around the house in a dress that didn't belong to me, I searched for the rest of my outfit—heels and a jacket— almost choking on the slices of apples I had hastily shoved into my mouth.

"Manners!" my mother yelled, her grave voice resonating through the living room. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"No," I replied after I swallowed. "I'm just late, mom. God, where's that damn jacket?"

"Here," she said with a bored look, handing the item to me, which has been lying on the ground right under my nose. I offered her a smile as my only apology.

Today was my first day of school, but also my first day into a mixed gendered school. I've never knew something like this. Like every girl in France —or at least the ones whose parents allowed to go to school— I've always been to a girls school only.

But I wasn't afraid of being at school with boys. Or at least that's what I was trying to repeat into my head to make that ugly knot that had formed into my stomach disappear.

I wasn't afraid, no. But I liked control, and this first experience sounded a bit too much like trouble.

"Aren't you afraid you'll get fired if you wear these?" My mother asked when she saw me struggling to close the clasp of my heels.

"At least I'll do the walk of shame in beauty," I replied with a shrug.

"Rose!"

I winced. "Sorry."

"Are you anxious?"

Yes. "Not at all— shit," I cursed under my breath when one of the shoe refused to cooperate, getting stuck on my heel. "I'm not anxious but these stupid shoes are not helping."

"You should maybe wear something else...?"

"It's okay! Look!" I finally stood up and whirled around. "What do you think about it?"

My mother crossed her arms against her chest. "I see that you're on a mission today... with my clothes."

"Come on, mom, I didn't commit any crimes, I just borrowed your dress and heels... What do you think about it?" I asked her again with the same enthusiasm.

"You could at least ask me first," my mom fired back with her brows furrowed, although there was a little smile tugging at her lips.

I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. She didn't even wear these clothes anymore; they were now way too small for her.

But there was a time when my mom wore these clothes and actually earned her living with dresses and heels. She used to work in the couture industry, not something really big, but something that looked like the beginning of a beautiful journey toward the achievement of her dreams... until she gave it all up when she met my father. And had me. Foolish, I know.

Now, it would be even more stupid not to benefit from all these clothes and not ask for her opinion, right? Besides, despite her irritation, I knew deep down that she liked it.

"But you look great, honey," she finally said. "Is it for someone in particular?"

"Someone?" I repeated and she winked at me. "Mom."

"Hm? I did not say anything..."

"Yet, and whatever you were about to say, this has nothing to do with Jean!" I said it a bit too quickly, a bit too uncertain of myself.

My mother chuckled. "Who said anything about Jean?"

I clicked my tongue in irritation, turning around to look at my reflection into the mirror, but also to hide my redden cheeks from her inquisitive gaze.