Ten & Levan

21. Twenty One

TEN

I hurry to set the nicely filled out form on the kitchen counter when I hear mom pull into the driveway. I trip over myself on my way to the kitchen and curse immediately. I hear the engine shut off, and I barely place the form right where it'll catch her eye. Then I shake myself a little, and head over into the kitchen casually.

I pretend to be taking out some juice from the fridge as mom enters through the front door, her keys cluttering as she sets them on the counter right next to the form and sits down on a stool. I pour myself a glass. I look up at her, a huge nervous smile tearing itself on my mouth. Am I being too obvious?

"Hello, mother, some juice?" I offer.

"Oh, yes please," she says, swiping a hand across the counter and putting everything aside before folding her arms and resting her head on it. My eyes pop out of their sockets. Not now, Heather! I wince inside my head as I grab another glass and pour in the juice. I pray for the orange juice to freshen up her system so she'd sign it merry happy.

"Here," I say sliding the glass toward her.

"Thanks sweetie, how was Monday for you?" she asks me as she lifts her head up and smiles at me. I smile right back at her.

"Great, I got late for the first hour because of Thea but it was a good day anyway," I tell her, sipping on my juice. "I'm going out with Levan in a while, he's going to come over," I tell her. She bobs her eyebrows, her eyes narrowed.

"Ooh, you hang with him a lot," she comments, "just don't abandon Thea."

"Ugh, I can't, she lives two steps away from my room remember?" I grump. She laughs, setting her glass down.

"We need to fix that hole," she says. I let my shoulders fall. She always says that like she despises it, but in reality, she couldn't care less about the hole.

"No way, I can't walk all the way down and out from our front door and in and up from theirs!" I argue, she laughs harder. Some of those laughs, she hands to me too. I take them, I'm grateful, but how do I tell her that I have no more room?

My gaze shifts from my mother's bright face to the form. I bite the inside of my upper lip as I think of a way to make her notice it very casually and subtly, like I have not a clue in the world about it.

I put my glass back down and clear my throat as she drinks from her glass, "Oh look!" I exclaim, pointing at the form in the corner and gasp naturally. Mom jumps, almost spitting her juice out onto me, "It looks like a –a form!" Totally casually, I chant inside my head.

Mom frowns as she picks it up. I wait for her to read it with wide, raccoon-like eyes, racing heart and sweaty palms. She looks up at me very slowly within microseconds then tilts her head to a side as she sets the form down.

"And it's a form for Melanie's Musical, specifically," she chimes with a fake smile. I take a deep breath, okay, here goes nothing. Her face hardens and she begins to massage her temples as she sighs. "I'm not signing it, I'm sorry, Ten," she says, her voice soft and low.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. Suddenly, I feel guilty for reminding her of everything that makes her sad. I don't have enough smiles to make her forget it. But I'm young and bold, I don't run away from things that defy me, I run into them, I'm headless and headstrong.

"Mom, I really want to do it," I tell her, rounding the counter so that I'm standing next to her, "I enjoy being on stage and I do it every year-" she looks up at me sharply, her soft brown eyes are cold as ice, and yet melting.