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3.12 Day Six: Lizzie

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Today was the worst day I've ever had in my life.

In my back pocket, my phone wouldn't stop buzzing. Camille had tried to call me so she could listen in on the lecture of a lifetime, but I wasn't entertaining the idea. Parker also sent a few texts, begging me to let her take the blame.

I stood my ground, keeping my head up as I refused to cry.

Gina hid in her room while my mother's shouting rattled the house. My dad sat across from me at the table. He crossed his arms, rubbing his jaw and saying nothing. Sometimes, he'd just tip his head and examine one side of my head and then, he'd tilt his head the other way and check out the other side. Antonio Hernandez was a fortress.

My mother on the other hand was an overflowing tub of emotions that was quickly filling up the room. She broke out of Spanish to snap at me, "Elizabeth, you're grounded. You're so unbelievably grounded. You're grounded until I can look at you without crying."

"Why..." my dad started. "Why did you do it without our permission?"

"It's my hair," I said.

"That didn't answer my question."

I dropped my shoulders, looking up at the ceiling. No one wanted the power to teleport more than me. Curling my lips, I swallowed the need to burst into tears. If I spoke one word, the flood gates would open. I refused to give my mother the satisfaction of being right that I'm a cry baby, that I couldn't handle things when they got tough.

"What's done is done," my dad finally said. "You did what you did. I don't know if I like this Parker or her parents for letting you do this and it'll be a long time before we let you out on the weekends."

Turning my cry face into a scowl, I nodded.

They couldn't even spare me one compliment. For the foreseeable future, this was my haircut. The least they could do was say it looked nice... My stomach twisted. The braid was gone and my little safety blanket too. Nothing to do with my hands, nothing to keep them occupied or shield my face.

"Okay." My Dad nodded, reflecting on the moment. He said, "Go to your room."

Unless I needed it for school, my laptop was off limits. Lucky for me, my parents assumed I still didn't use my phone. I fell back against my bed, bobbing up and down. A trickle of tears slipped out the corner of my eyes, but I quickly wiped it up.

Maybe they forgot I had a cell phone since I never pulled it out. I texted Camille first because her mom and my aunt had the power to cool my mom off sometimes. My fingers worked fast to text the novel explanation of my situation to Parker, but my fat thumbs kept making too many mistakes. Giving up, I gave Parker a call.

After a few rings, I figured Parker wouldn't answer. I did burn a lot of her time yesterday, so she had to be too busy for me. My fingers itched for my laptop and all my playlists. I had an excellent playlist that started with a man hauntingly singing, "All around me are familiar faces..."

The phone line clicked, and I sat straight up, hearing Parker reply. "Hello? What's up?"

Her voice sounded distant, like I was on speaker and had to compete against something playing on the TV.

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