Am I Pretty Yet?

Chapter Fourteen

*This chapter has been edited 12/21/16.*

Parker had been right about Mom being none too pleased seeing us walk up the pathway together. Strands of hair hung from her face and were sticking out of her usual tame and tidy ponytail, and her cheeks were bright pink. The door flew open before we even walked through it. I didn't even have a chance for me to put my house key into the lock.

"Nina, I have called you five times," she said. Her eyes moved to Parker, then narrowed and flitted back towards me. "It is almost ten thirty. Where on Earth have you been?"

"I'm sorry," I stammered, tucking a lock of hair nervously behind my ear.

My face felt hot, like it always felt whenever I told a lie. I thought I had begun mastering the art of lying, but apparently it had only been a temporary boost of confidence. Being here on my front doorstep with a chilly breeze running along my arms and facing my furious looking mother wasn't exactly giving me much confidence.

"There was..." My eyes wandered up to Parker's, signaling for help, but he seemed to be in his own stressful trance. "...a change of plans."

Parker's head snapped up at this remark, and he seemed to come back down to Earth. He sent a sympathetic smile towards my mother and sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. If I hadn't known he was only pretending, I would've believed him, too.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Gregory. Nina was with Harrison, but I called her up to discuss..." He trailed off, now looking to me for help, but I was at a loss for words and on-the-spot ideas. "...this week's agenda for the Senior Buddy Project."

Mom's face softened a bit, but her posture still stayed rigid, her shoulders squared back and her arms tightly wound into one another.

"Senior Buddy Project," she repeated, raising her eyebrows at the both of us. I swallowed and nodded, deciding that now would probably be the perfect time to jump in.

"We're making a high school photo album. We needed to buy crafts and really important materials to add into the scrapbook."

She nodded her head, carefully letting her arms fall to her sides before moving her hands into her back jean pockets. "Crafts. That would explain why you were at the mall."

A panic rose inside of me. Had she been at the mall? Had she seen me? Or worse, had Harrison had another slip of the tongue? I almost confessed right then and there to every single lie I had been telling.

"Your father gave me a call and said he saw you there. That makes sense now, because there's a crafts store just on the second floor up the escalator." She nudged her chin down to my leg, the full cast now removed and only a thin layer of gauze on my ankle. The crutches were gone, and walking was more bearable. "I'm just glad you didn't trip again."

I forced myself to laugh, yet my insides were secretly shaking. Each time that I was about to get caught in my tangled web, it was like I was getting pricked in the finger with a needle. The whole two weeks I had been keeping up this facade of normal routine felt a series of pricks all over my arms.

"Me too," I mumbled, my heart pounding. Mom turned to glance at Parker again before she opened the door wider, stepping aside.

"Come in, Parker."

She sounded so earnest that I felt the lies burning up inside of me, begging to be undone and set free.

. . . . 

"Yikes," Parker said as soon as he stepped into my bedroom. He seemed to tower above my wooden bookshelf and white dresser. It was strange, seeing a boy in here who wasn't Harrison. Different.