You don't always need a plan. Sometimes you just need to breathe, trust, let go and see what happens ~ Mandy Hale
My heart shatters at this. She still truly believes that dad had forgotten about her and that's the reason for the divorce. And she seriously thinks that I'm going to forget about her. I swallow and turn to Peter. "Where is your bathroom?" I whisper.
He points towards a hallway, "first door to your left."
I stand up straight and follow his directions there, locking the door behind me. I tap the call button on my mom's contact and my heart rate accelerates as the tone rings.
"Jesus Christ, Raven!" she says, clearly in tears, "where are you?"
"I went to a friend's house, is that so bad?" I answer.
She scoffs, "and you left Cam home alone?! What if something happened? What if--"
"What if what, mom? What if someone broke in? That suburban area we live in? Nothing happens. You never even lock the door!" I snap.
"Please don't talk to me that way, I am your mother," she tells me, bringing an innocent tone.
I bite my lip to refrain from bursting out, "so you know I've struggled with friendships in the past and I've struggled in general in the past. So for the first time when I tell you that I'm with friends, you don't even care. You're not even happy for me. All you care about is yourself, Phil and Cam. And as your daughter, it hurts to think that you don't even care. You aren't even happy."
Tears well up in my eyes but I force them back. She sighs and I can envision her rubbing at her temples, "sweetie, of course I care. I'm just worried."
"Well I'm fine. Is that what you wanted to hear?" I hang up before I can hear her reply and toss my phone onto the countertop.
I don't remember the last time I had a civil conversation with my mom. It always ends up in a fight just like the last time. It always ends with me crying and staying in my room. Well I'm not in my room this time, I'm out with people so I shouldn't be crying in front of them. The tears fade away as my reflection stares back at me. I place my hands on the benchtop to steady my sudden dizzy spell.
My sixth sense tells me that there is a figure hovering outside of the door, so I make sure to not walk out straight away and instead, slightly open the door.
Peter.
Of course it is. Who else would it be?
"Are you okay?" he asks, concerned.
I let out a long breath, "I'm fine. What is there to be unhappy about?"
Shoving past him, I head towards the living room again but he grips my arm and pulls me back towards him. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he reassures me, "even if it's at four in the morning. You can call me and I'll listen."
This boy really knows his way to a girl's heart. I offer him a small smile and to my surprise, he pulls me into his arms, hugging me. If I'm honest, I hate hugs. I hate the idea of them; how you have your arms around someone and how it's like a form of protection. Besides, I'm just not a hugger compared to others. But this time, it's... different. It feels right. I let him hold me and I wrap my arms around his back. I stand on my tip toes and whisper into his ear, "you're going to be trouble for me, aren't you?"
With that, I walk off, leaving him with a faint pink hue in his cheeks.
We watch the rest of the movie and pick it apart. MJ apparently isn't thrilled and falls asleep halfway through it. Ned, Peter and I continue to discuss it in hushed voices, being careful not to wake her. She's scary enough when she's fully awake let alone if we woke her up during a nap.
Twister finishes and I let out a large sigh and lean against the chair, "I forgot how crappy it was."
"What made them think this movie was a good idea?" Ned adds.
"It was okay," Peter shrugs.
My eyes practically bulge out of my head, "okay?! Peter, that sucked!"
"I know but I've seen worse," he shakes his head, "we should've just watched Star Wars."
I stand up and brush bits of popcorn off of my shirt, "I haven't seen it and--"
"--you haven't seen Star Wars?!" the both of them exclaim in unison. I press my finger to my lips and tell them to shush, gesturing wildly to MJ in the process.
"If you would let me finish, I am not planning on watching it you geeks!"
Ned follows suit and stands up, "next time, we will force you to watch the entire series. Even if we need to drag you here and tie you to a chair, we will do it."
I scoff, "even if the world relied on me watching Star Wars, I wouldn't."
Peter tilts his head, "in what circumstance would the world rely on you to watch Star Wars."
"In a sarcastic world," I laugh softly, "you are really clueless, Peter."
He nods acknowledgedly, "I know, I know."
Ned pulls out his phone and his face falls as he checks the time. "I have to go, my mom is going to kill me if I'm even a minute late. I'll see you guys on Monday," he apologizes and then runs out the door before we can even get in a goodbye.
I pull my jacket over my shoulders, "are you going to take MJ home?"
"I just thought that I'd let her stay the night," Peter says, taking the throw over blanket on the arm of the couch and throwing it over her. I keep my eyes on her, her brown eyes covered by her eyelids and a soft, but beautiful snore escaping from her nose. She looks so peaceful and perfect even as she sleeps in contrast to how I look like even as I'm awake.
"Oh, right. Well I should be going now," my voice is quieter now and can barely be heard over my footsteps.
"Wait," he calls out from behind me. I turn around, hopeful. Hopeful for what? Only God knows. But I'm hopeful nonetheless. "How are you getting home?"
I was not hopeful for this, that's for sure. "I'll just walk or something," of course I'm not going to tell him the truth.
"Do you want me to drive you? It's a long walk and it's late," he offers.
But I shoot him down straight away, "stay with MJ." I turn on my heel and flee his apartment before he can get another word in.
I enter the house quietly that night, avoiding my mom at all costs. We do fight, but if we give eachother twenty-four hours or so to cool off, we will go back to normal. What exactly is normal though? For us, it's only having a conversation if we need to and only exchanging a few sentences between us. The last in-depth conversation I remember having with her was the night she told us that she was getting divorced. The night dad, Cam and I walked in on her and Tony.
Sunday is our cool-off day. She goes out to work and much to my relief, Phil and Cam decide to go mini-golfing, which enables me to have the house to myself for an entire day.
But Monday comes quicker than I could have ever hoped for. Not only is it Monday, but it's careers day. We just spend the whole day being lectured by random professionals and exploring brochures from different colleges because it's junior year and you need to start preparing to go to college!
Most people are pretty intent on what they want to do and where they want to go. Me on the other hand? I have no idea. I can't see me in any workplace and I'll probably end up opening a bodega like Delmar's... not that it's a bad thing necessarily. Everyone loves Mr Delmar and his shop is a great part of the community.
I spot Peter, Ned and MJ instantly, huddled around a table displaying brochures to ivy league colleges like Harvard and Yale. If one thing is certain about my future, I am not going to go to Yale or Harvard. Brown, maybe. But not Harvard or Yale. I hesitate going to them and stop dead in my tracks.
All they're going to be talking about all day is college and the future and like I said, I don't know what the hell is going to happen in the future. None of us do. One minute, everything is planned out and the next... one small thing falls apart and ruins the whole plan. Before the divorce, I was going to go to Yale and become a writer, any kind of writer. But then the cancer came and with the cancer came the divorce and it made me realize that the world doesn't need writers. We need doctors and we need scientists to take away diseases like cancer that ruin people's lives.
They don't see me so I turn back around and run towards a secluded area outside of the school where anyone who smokes does their smoking. I sit on the abandoned bench that seems to be falling apart and set my bag aside me. The pack of cigarettes is still full excluding the one that I smoked last time. I pull it out and let my stress blow away with each puff.
My phone vibrates on my leg and I open it with one hand. A text from dad. My mood immediately lightens up.
Happy Monday, Mariposa! I was just out and what do you want for your birthday? It's coming up in two months or so!
I grin mischievously as I text back.
If you get me a motorbike, I will owe you everything.
Jesus, as if your mother won't kill me if I got you a motorbike.
The sheer thought of me on a motorbike, black leather jacket and helmet brings a smile to my face. My mom would be absolutely appalled... it would be great. I chuckle lightly to myself and type back one more time before putting my phone away.
It was worth a try, at least. I guess I could settle for some books or something.
My phone slips from my fingers and into my bag. I let the cigarette dangle from my lips and use both of my hands to zip it up. The next thing I know, it is snatched from my mouth and into someone's hands. My head snaps towards them anxiously. If this is Pinell, the principal or any kind of teacher, I am toast... and if they don't kill me, they will tell my mom and she indefinitely will.
But it's not a staff member and it's not my mom.
"You smoke?!" Peter exclaims.