saturday, july 29

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"I MEAN IT!" I explode with rage. "Stop the car! I'm not doing this!"

Wonda chuckles, driving on determinedly. "Calm down, do you need another Xanax? This will be great. You'll thank me later."

Rising an octave, "You mean I will never talk to you again!"

"Oh, shush," she teases. "Stop being a little brat. It's time you get a little sweet taste of real life. It will only be for thirty minutes a turn. And for only an hour. You got this, girl!"

"Wonda!" I storm, removing my seatbelt. "I swear to God, I will open this car door and jump out."

"Put your seatbelt back on," she snaps. She's going fast and zigzagging her silver buggy through the traffic like a pro. She seemed very confident only two seconds ago but now something shadows her face. "Please, you don't have to do it if you don't want to, just see the place first before you make up your mind. I just want what's best for you."

"No, turn back right now! We know each other better than anyone else, Wonda. You're trying to trick me. I know you will leave me there and I'm not cashiering at no stupid bakery!" I feel my heart speeding up and my skin growing hot. I'm quickly building into a serious state of vexation. Even my eyes flood with angry tears.

But Wonda is relentless, and houses, salons, and tattoo parlors, continue to flash past us. I should have known! In a small town like this anything would have been only five minutes away but Wonda, it seems, had purposely gone out of her way to find something at the opposite end of town. Or not... She slows the car saying we are almost there. I assume my seatbelt can remain off but she doesn't stop.

"Hey, be safe and put that back on. You know better than anyone—" She stops herself short and I roll my eyes, heaving. "Sorry," she says.

I pull down the flap overhead and stare into the mirror, checking the prosthetics. I've caked them on good with makeup. The edges are almost invisible. It is still hard trying to keep my breathing even, though. It is late in the day, so the sun is low and not harsh at all, but I still know I might have to face two or three people if the rest of town love vegan cupcakes as much as I do. Maybe even more. This is slowly starting to feel like a nightmare.

Fooling me before we are even there, Wonda circuits back to my neighborhood before easing the car into a cleared parking lot. "See. It is close to your house and not too busy. You trust me now?"

"So, what was the point of all that?"

"Oh, just wanted to see you squirm."

I shoot her a glare.

"Just kidding, hon. I really wanted to make sure I was going through with this. I needed more time to think. This is hard for me, too. I don't mean to give you a hard time, seriously, Tinsley. I just feel like you need to see that you can survive out of the house. And maybe have a light part-time job, too. Have some interaction with other people occasionally. If you like it the owner says she's looking for someone."

"I don't know," I say, and copy her, climbing out the car.

Wonda shakes her head. "What was the point of getting that expensive unnecessary thing for your face if you are not going to be seen out the house?" she challenges.

"I didn't have to pay for it" I retort. "And I just want to look normal, even to myself. But you wouldn't understand."

Wonda's expression is apologetic. She pauses on the cement walk littered with smashed cigarette butts. "K, let's go back."

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