Knowing Xavier Hunt ✓

Sixteen - Prom Night

"Well, I know your exams are over now," mom goes on, returning to her overly-sweet voice that makes me want to gag. "Your father told me you're going to prom tomorrow."

Why did dad have to tell her? It's not like prom is a big deal.

"Prom is a big deal, dear, and I want my daughter's special night to be perfect," mom coos.

My eyebrows have flown into my hair or maybe even all the way to the top of my head. I wouldn't be surprised if I found them floating in the air above my head.

"I was planning to fly over to help you pick out the perfect dress and find the perfect date, but since you didn't answer my call, I couldn't do that."

Her voice is calm and sweet, but the accusation in her words is clear. Even now she's blaming me for being the reason she can't do something. 

"But we can still shop online, right?" mom asks excitedly. "How about I skype you and we can find the perfect dress and matching heels and --"

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"I asked, why?" I repeat, my tone icy. 

"Why what?" 

"Why do you suddenly want to act like we're best friends or something?" I ask. 

"I don't see what you --"

"You think this is what I need? After ten years without you, you think all I need from you is advice picking out a prom dress? You think you can be a good mother by doing that when you have never been here for me?"

Silence follows my words, and I know mom is just shocked. I have never spoken to her this way, mostly because dad never allowed it. But I have so much to say to my 'mother' that I don't think any amount of words can ever be enough.

 "You think this can make me forget everything you have done to us?" I go on, letting words flow with emotion. "All these years, when you have thought about no one but yourself, you think a prom-dress can bribe me into forgiving that? And I find it ... so funny, that you think I would want to spend 'every weekend' with you in Stanford. I would rather eat paper."

"Haley --"

"Where were you when I needed you?" I exclaim, tears stinging my eyes. "Where were you when I cried myself to sleep because everyone bullied me that my mom had left my dad because he was lame? Where were you when I needed a bra or tampons, or when a boy told me I was dumb not to know what sex is? You weren't here, mom, and that's all that matters."

"Haley, dear --" my mom begins in a low voice.

"You know who was here? Dad. He was here. He was my father, my mother, and my best friend. He was everything I ever needed, and he still is. He would buy me tampons and panties and put them under my sheets so I would find them but not feel embarrassed. He would sit next to my pillow and hum lullabies when I cried. He would go to all my parents-teachers-conferences and tell my counselor to watch out for me because I was being bullied. He did that, mom, when you should have."

"I'm sorry --" she sobs.

"I don't need your weekend shopping trips, your stupid skype calls, or your perfect prom-gowns. I need love, and kindness, and the feeling that somebody in my life actually cares about me and wants me to be happy. I already have that person, mom, and it's dad. Not you."

"Haley, I'm your mother," she says, almost pleading.

"I don't need a mother anymore," I say, finally speaking my mind. "I have my father, and he's enough for me."