For the first time since my arrival, Melodie had nothing to say.
The last words were exchanged between her and the principal, as she looked at me and said "She'll be disciplined accordingly." Not a single word left her lips as we walked from the student filled halls, to her car, and into the house. Truth be told, I was starting to get worried. She wasn't answering questions, either.
"What's for dinner?" I had asked, and she didn't say a word, putting her keys on the rack and getting something out of the fridge.
"Sounds good," I replied to the silence with a huff, going to my room and closing the door promptly. And as I plopped on my bed, I tried to figure out how the heck someone got into my locker.
I usually visited my locker before and after school, to get my longboard and head onto the bus. I didn't bring it in the morning, since I had just cleaned everything, and needed to set it back up. Meaning I came in with all my books, without visiting my locker at all. I hadn't told anyone my combination, mostly because everyone knew not to ask, and I was a top locker, meaning nobody was above me. The person below me never showed up when I was there. It was a boy, with a name like Chris or something. It didn't really matter to me.
I knew I didn't do it. There was no need to convince myself, to consider maybe I was half asleep or something. It was too dumb for me to do, and being framed as an idiot wasn't something I liked. Plus, everyone would hear about this by the time I came back. The point was to leave silently, where my imprint would stay but my appearance wouldn't. This wasn't the imprint I wanted.
I looked over at my iPod dock, and sighed. Ninth period ended not too long ago, and I could've been simply going home for the weekend, and plan my escape while on the bus. The entire dumb suspension had ruined my plans, since Melodie would be on guard and probably check on me while I was packing.
I jumped at the sensation of my phone vibrating, which took me away from my thoughts. It was Drew, of course; I hadn't tried getting Ricky, Caleb's, or Emma's. I figured I'd be pushing my luck with that.
Where are you?
My eyebrows raised at the text, as I quickly constructed a lie to tell him. I didn't want to respond too quickly, but I didn't want to respond too late, either.
I went home. Felt sick.
He didn't respond for a while, and I sat up on my bed, playing a game while waiting. The phone eventually went off once more.
theres a party today
At some kid's house
He invited most of our grade and some seniors or whatever
I sighed, rubbing my face for a moment before looking at the phone again. I didn't need this.
Have fun
He responded quickly
Hah no
We're all goin so are you
I said I was sick
And what are you gonna do, I responded, raising my eyebrows even though he couldn't see my face or register my reaction.
See you there
I didn't try responding, mostly due to the fact that I had nothing to say. I didn't want to go to a dumb party, especially on the day some kids in my grade lie on me. Those same kids would probably be there. I thought of going out, to the store or something, then remembered the half assembled longboard sitting in my room. The wheels and such, which it needed, were still downstairs, where Melodie currently resided. I let out a loud sigh before exiting the room and walking down the stairs.
She was in the kitchen this time, making whatever it was for dinner. It looked like pasta, or something slightly lame, but I didn't expect much. Simple Domino's was a treat to me. She was looking for another pot, by the sound of banging surrounding the kitchen, and I went to the table, where I had left my wheels.
"I didn't do it, you know."
The clanging stopped, and I turned around. She looked in the cupboard, though you could tell she wasn't exactly focusing on what was inside.
"I figured you knew me enough to know I would think crap like that is a waste of time and money. Plus, how would I get out of this house without you knowing?"
Her arms were crossed tightly as she held on to the crease of her shirt, in the dip by your elbows. She still didn't look towards me, eyes moving along the content of that same area.
"I didn't visit my locker that morning, since I left my board here," I spoke, holding up the wheels, "and how would I even buy paint, huh? You have to be 21 to buy paint."
"I don't know, how do you have it right now?" she snapped, getting up from her crouching position and finally turning her eyes to me.
"What?"
"The little door, Casey! I found it, in that little door, everything," she said, tone chastising, "How do you explain that??"
"Art project," I spoke quickly, smoothly, the words sliding off my tongue as I looked her in the eyes.
"What kind? With who?" she pried further, trying to get me to trip up.
"Its a project with stencils. I'm doing it with..." I said, then snapped my fingers, as if trying to recall, "What's her name? Emma. You babysat her, she said. She wanted me to keep it here."
"Yes, and I have her number right here," she spoke sharply, "I'll ask her about it, this art project."
"Go ahead," I said, going upstairs and taking my wheels with me. Halfway up the stairs, I clenched my fists, the urge to punch something almost overwhelming. She had the audacity to search my room, and find my stash. Did she throw out the caps? Did she take the colored ones, and the ones that were half full? When people touched my things, they had a habit of messing them up, I'd noticed. Instead of going to my room, I stayed in the hallway leading to the stairs, sitting in such a way that she couldn't see me, but I could hear her.
"Hello? Yes, Mrs. Balli, can I speak to Emma? Thanks!"
There was a pause as she waited for Emma to come to the phone, the opening and closing of more cupboards heard until Emma finally came to the phone. She put it on speaker, and i couldn't tell if it was for me to hear or for her to use both of her hands.
"Emma! Hey, I wanted to ask you something."
"Yeah?" Emma's voice said, different through the phone as most voices were.
"Did you ask Casey to keep spray paint here?"
"What?"
Shit.
"I found spray paint in her room. She said she was helping you with an art project?"
"Wait, you said spray paint?" she said, and there was a tiny pause before she continued, "Oh yeah! For stencils. We have to do something on a wooden board, and I figured I'd try to do something like Banksy."
Either she was a phenomenal liar, or a part of what she said was true. I reminded myself to thank her later.
"Also, Melodie?"
"Yeah?"
" I invited Casey to this party tonight. Is she still going?"
I grimaced, reminding myself to also hit her.
"Um," Melodie replied, voice going up and down, "I'll have to think about it. Where would you like her to meet you?"
I went into my room before she hung up the phone, and I was setting up the last wheel until she came in with a short knock. I never understood why people knocked on doors and then let themselves in. A knock usually meant you waited for permission.
"Casey," she said, gently moving my board off of the bed and sitting down next to me. I moved away slightly, making sure my personal bubble was still intact. She didn't say anything for a bit, staring at her lap. Maybe she was trying to set a mood. All I knew was that this wasn't an ABC family drama, and setting whatever tone wouldn't work the way she'd like.
"I talked to Emma," she said, looking at her lap, "What you said was right."
"Hard to trust someone who isn't your daughter, I'm sure," I spoke passive aggressively, crossing my arms.
She then looked at me for a moment, a strange look in her eyes. A mix between anger, irritation, disappointment, and....something else. Possibly pity.
"We never spend much time together," she said, "And the school usually doesn't just lie--"
"Well, yeah, you'd be surprised how many people lie around here." I cut her off sharply.
"Well, when I found the paint, I just made the connection--"
"And how about that?! How did you find it? Did you search my room??"
"Well--"
"You did! You invaded my privacy!"
"Why do you need privacy? There's nothing to hide!"
"Jesus Christ, when are you going to understand??"
"Understand what, Casey?"
"That you aren't my mother!" I yelled, getting off of the bed, "You were never my mother, you aren't my mother, and you'll never be my mother! You know why?? Because my mother's dead, that's why! Stop trying to care, stop saying "love you", stop putting out rules, and stop trying to be something you aren't!
"You don't think I know all that?? You don't think I know I suck as a parent?!?!?" she screeched, voice cracking.
I stood there, arms lowering from their angry position as her hazel eyes became piercing and electrical, like lightning, "I got this house as a graduation gift! They told me to start my own life, and so I did! But I couldn't get a child, I could barely keep a boyfriend, so I saw the chance and got you!"
She did something similar to before, when she crossed her arms, but this time, it looked more like she was hugging herself, "And I was trying, I was trying really hard to be good for you! I wasn't trying to be your mom, or your dad, or your permanent babysitter, I just wanted to be something good."
Her voice wavered on the word "good", and she cleared her throat, looking down while still sitting on my bed. I still stood there, not sure what to do or say. I was used to arguments, but none that were like this.
"She asked about a party, Emma," she finally said, clearing her throat once more before returning to her normal voice, " And if you were going. I thought it would be good for you, because you're always in your room or out alone. And you need to have fun, before we deal with this school drama. She said to meet her by the Checkers at like, seven-thirty. But if you don't want to go, its fine."
She then lifted herself up off of the bed, walking past me and out of the door, without her usual touch on the shoulder. I looked at the doorframe for a little while, before going back to securing my last wheel with it's bearings. With sighing, reluctance, and a bit of thinking, I grabbed my board at seven and went downstairs, slipping out of the door before Melodie could come down and ask what was going on.
The nights were slowly becoming warmer; warm enough that all I needed was a hooded jacket to keep myself from getting chilly.
It was quite nice of her, I guessed, pushing myself off with my leg, to want to be something good.