I Almost Killed My Crush's Mom

Chapter 8:: Malicious chair legs

“Er sure,” Jennifer replies, puzzled. “Lois, could you give me a hand?”

I nod and tilt Jennifer’s wheelchair onto its hind wheels, using all of my non-existent strength to push her up the steps and through the doorway. “Have a good day Jennifer. Just text me when you want me to pick you up,” I smile and she nods. “Bye Rachel,” I nod politely. Rachel doesn’t comment, but gives me a dirty look. I make my way back down the driveway towards Jesse, fuming slightly at the rudeness of this Rachel woman. I don’t understand- how could somebody as sweet as Jennifer ever want to associate with such a snobby, stereotypical rich woman? Is that it- does Rachel just not like me because I’m wearing a hoodie and leggings in her honoured presence or what? I may be dressed comfortably, but that says nothing about what kind of a person I am. I could be the richest girl alive, and she’d never know. I slide into the car and slam the door, ignoring the curious face of Jesse sat in the passenger seat. Without saying anything, I turn on the ignition and pull away.

After a few seconds of silence, Jesse speaks to me. “She’s evil, isn’t she?”

“What?” I glance at him, caught off-guard. I’m calming down ever so slightly now that we’ve pulled away, but I tell you what: Jesse is getting out to fetch Jennifer when we come to pick her up. I’ll be the one staying in the car.

“Rachel. She’s evil. She used to babysit me when I was younger- she’s one of mom’s friends from college,” Jesse informs me. “I’ve never liked her and I don’t think Mom does either, but they’ve been friends for so long now that mom thinks it’s rude if she tries to drift away.” My eyebrows shoot upwards at this: I was not expecting that. I take the familiar left turns towards the beach café and my work shift, slowing down ever so slightly so that I can talk to Jesse for longer.

“Your mom is too polite,” I sigh, “Two seconds with that woman and I already wanted to slap her. I mean, all she did was look at my hoodie and leggings and she decided she didn’t-“

“Oh that’s not why she doesn’t like you,” Jesse interrupts, shaking his head. “She just absolutely detests teenagers. She treats me the same way, even though I practically grew up with her close to me. She’s incredibly stereotypical- thinks the worst of all people in our age group.” I look over at him, with my jaw gaping in surprise. Wow, just because one person our age did something wrong, it’s assumed that the whole age group are obnoxious gangsters? I don’t quite see how that’s fair. I mean, I’m the kind of teenager that smiles at old ladies when I pass them in the street.

“She sounds like a cow.”

“She is,” Jesse shrugs, leaning forward to place his hands on the dashboard. “Where are we going?”

“The beach café,” I reply, “Are you okay with that? I can drop you home if you want, but I’ve got a shift to go to.” I glance over at Jesse, but he shakes his head assuredly, curls ruffling slightly.

“Nah, don’t worry. I can call my friends, this would be a great time to introduce them to you.” Jesse seems to think nothing of this remark, turning away from me to look out of the window at the passing scenery, but his comment is enough to make my heart skip a beat. Today? On my work shift? He’s got to be joking, right? I thought we’d meet at Jesse’s house or something, not in the middle of the café while I’m wearing a freaking apron and no makeup! If I’m trying to get on the wavelength of the most popular, glamorous girls in school, comfy clothes and a job are not the way to do it.

“Something wrong?” Jesse asks me, and I shake my head but inside I’m panicking. Maybe I could try and fix my hair in my break? I haven’t got any mascara, but Heather could have some. I could trade outfits with her, maybe? I really hope she’s wearing something my size today. Unlike my tall and uncomfortably slender figure, Heather is short with all of the curves I crave for. She can get away with crop tops and figure-hugging outfits, whereas I just look like a kid trying on my mom’s clothes.