The Makeover [10]

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The Makeover


“Anything is better than lies and deceit!” ― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina


                                  Rosalie Johnson

I breathed out a long breath and rolled my eyes as I laid down on my bed. I had absolutely nothing to do, not even my phone to play silly games on. I had rarely been grounded, because I was the "good" child, so all of this was new to me ... kind of.

I rolled over to my side and stared out the window. I wonder if Davis ― I mean, Christopher, texted me yet. If so what would it be about?

I really enjoyed our date, and I really hoped we got to go out more. However, what if he didn't enjoy it, and just pretended to because he felt bad for him? That would really suck if that was the case.

There was so much I wanted to know about him. Not just about his weird fascination with those damned hoodies, but simple things, like earlier: What made him happy, and what pissed him off? It was things like that, that I wanted to know.

I got off my bed and walked to the window. It was snowing outside, and I grimaced slightly at the sudden change of weather. It was so nice and hot out earlier,  now it looked like the inside of an ice cap. Oh well, this is what I got for living in Canada, and I meant that in a nice way ... not really. 

"Rosalie," someone called through my door, with a soft knock. I already knew immediately who it was before they even entered the door.

I wondered what she wanted.

"Come in," I called.

The door cracked open to reveal my mother behind the door. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and her face was free of make-up. My mom was truly beautiful. So why do I look so ... bleh? My father wasn't ugly, in fact, everyone, including Amber think he's ― barf ― hot.

"Hey mom," I greeted as I walked back to my bed and sat down. My mother came fully into the room and sat down next to me. A light shade of red started to spread through her cheeks as she sat awkwardly on my bed. She avoided all eye contact with me and looked everywhere, but at me; how strange.

"So ..." she trailed off, as if not sure of what she was going to say. I never really seen my mother like this. She was usually cool, calm and collected, ready for anything and anyone. Something was wrong, I just knew it. 

"Uh, so you went out with a boy today," she said as she fidgeted with her fingers. Her cheeks burning brighter as the words slipped out of her mouth.

"And I think it's time we, you know, talked," she mumbled, as she shifted in her spot.

"About?" I asked curiously. What did she want to talk about?

"You know, the birds ... and the bees." My eyes widened in shock, and I jumped from my bed as though I was disgusted.

"Ew, no mom," I exclaimed.

There was no way, I was going to talk about that with her.

"We already had this talk," I pointed out. I already suffered through it once, I don't need to do it again. Plus, I'm sure we talked about this in health class too.

"I know, I know, but you've grown-up since then. Your father and I think it's time we should talk about it again," my mother said quickly. I shook my head, my face turning such a bright shade of red, I put ripe tomatoes to shame.

"No, mom it's okay," my mother sighed heavily and shook her head. "Fine, but that wasn't the only reason why I came up here," my mother announced as she leaned casually onto my bed post.

Her eyes roamed over me before a small smile spread across her face, "I heard you and Amber talking earlier, about your looks. I never knew you were so concerned about your looks," my mother said.

I shrugged my shoulders. As long as we didn't talk about the birds and the bees than I was happy with anything. I sat back down next to mother and cracked my knuckles. That was such a bad habit, I should learn how to stop.

"It's nothing ma,'" I said nonchalantly, but that wasn't the case.

"It didn't sound like that to me," she teased slightly as she wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

"How about we plan a spa day. Just you and I, doing nothing, but relaxing for the whole day. We can get your hair and makeup done, everything," my mother smiled. That didn't sound too bad so I nodded my head in agreement; her smile grew even wider.


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