There is nothing I would love more than to punch Lexi Kane square in the nose. Maybe I was hallucinating when we agreed today right after practice we would work on the playlist fort the pep rally next week, but not only did she bail out on me, but she basically told me to do everything myself, which I already do. But there is really nothing I can do about it, I'll just have to suck it up like always, and just take one for the team. One of the most annoying and ungrateful teams in the entire school, but one I still decide to join every year against my better judgement.
"What are you thinking about?" my mom asks. I look up from my computer to see she hasn't looked up from her's. It's scary how mom's have a sixth sense when it comes to knowing everything their child is doing, thinking and feeling.
"My frustration" I answer. How do you remix songs together? How do you blur out the fucks, and the bitches out so our stupid principal will approve of the remix? No fucking clue. No YouTube tutorial is making any sense and I'm ready to tear all my hair out.
"What about? Can I help?" I sigh and take a deep breath. I love my mom to death, but sometimes parents don't understand that they can't fix everything.
"I don't think so. I have to remix these songs and I'm so confused on how to piece everything together" I tell her, hoping it will put her off as the most technologically advanced thing my Mom can do is having Siri text one of us.
"Have you asked Marcus?" I hadn't even thought of that. I don't think he'd know, but maybe he knows someone who can.
I text him right away.
Me: Do you know someone who can make a remix by next week?
Not more than three minutes later, I get a text back.
Marcus: Jon really likes that stuff. I'm not sure if he'd do it, but you could text him
I groan in even more frustration. Not just because he might not do it, but because I don't want to have to ask Jon for help. He's one of Marcus's really good friends, but he's also the really shitty boyfriend of my best friend, and he knows my feelings towards him. I've said them to his face without regret.
Me: thanks
I find his contact and stare at the screen in front of me. I hesitate, my fingers floating over the keyboard to text him. I really don't want to do this. I guess I'm taking two for the team, so I suck up my pride and text him.
Me: could you help me with remixing a few songs?
I press send and I'm fidgeting like no other. I hate asking for help, and it makes it ten times worse that I have to ask a person I despise for assistence. Why couldn't have Peter been the expert? He seems to know everything about anything else.
The tone signals me he's texted back.
Jonathan Conners: for what?
What does he mean for what? Does it really matter that much? I hold back even more frustration and type back.
Me: pep rally routine
This time the message comes in a few seconds.
Jonathan Conners: Sure. Just send me the songs and I'll get it to you
Me: thank you
As painful as that was, I'm glad he agreed to do it. I've said horrible things to him, not that he didn't deserve to hear them at the time, but he could have easily been an asshole back and said no.
I quickly email him all the songs, hoping he can get it done as soon as possible. I'd ask him, but I already feel like I'm stepping over the line by texting him more than once.
I sigh and rest my head in my palms, massaging my temples, trying to relieve some of the pressure I feel. There is too much to do at one time. Between the team, school, applications and trying to fit in Sofia and Marcus here and there I'm stretching myself thin. I need a break from my life, but unfortunately there's no way to do that.
"Did you find someone to help you?" Mom asks. She's gone from typing on her computer to flipping through the thickest stack of papers I've ever seen. It's crazy how long some of these contracts are now. I hear she and my dad complain to each other nearly every day about it when they're cleaning up dinner.
"Yeah, one of Marcus's friends is doing it for me."
"Good, good. How is Marcus? I haven't seen a lot of him this week" she comments. I could never tell her the real reason for that. As much as I love my family, the last time he was over here, they embarrassed him and me to no end. Well, maybe Marcus didnt' feel too shy, but after the dinner with my family, I don't know if I want to bring him to our house.
"Yeah, we normally go to his house. It's just easier since he lives closer to the school" I tell her, which isn't a lie. His neighborhood is just around the corner from our school, and was the main reason we agreed to meet there after practice for most of the week. The embarrassment I feel with him around my house is just a hidden motive.
"He should come over for Sunday dinner. Your grandparents still haven't met him, and your grandmother is constantly asking about him and I have nothing to tell her. I should be able to gossip about my daughter's relationship" she says and the uncomfortable feeling comes back. I know Marcus would be okay coming over, but I'm still worried. I've seen how my grandparents have acted around Christopher, and I would crawl into a hole and suffer if they were the same way around him.
"I don't know, Mom" I say, but she looks at me with her Mom look, the one that tells you she can read your mind and there's nothing she doesn't know. I gulp, this is dangerous territory with my mother. My dad is clueless, but my mom isn't an idiot. She knows what's going on.
"Amanda, if I tell your grandparents to take it down a notch, will you invite him? I mean my goodness, it's been almost two months and you've brought him around our family once. Could you do this for me?" she asks in the tone that says 'I'm not asking, I'm telling you'. The tone that leaves no room for discussion.
"Fine. I'll ask him tomorrow, okay? But if he says no, I'm not going to make him" I warn. Sometimes Mom doesn't understand that no means no sometimes, and not a maybe.
"I'm sure he won't, Sweetheart. Now, would you please bring your laundry upstairs? Your shirts have been down here for three days now."