The War Between Us : Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

The breeze was really cool in my face as I walk on the sidewalk towards my new house – yet, I knew things would not be ‘cool’ there. At home, that is.
Especially with my Mom steaming in it about what I’ve done.

Being suspended is no laughing matter; let me tell you that, straight out.

I sigh, pushing open the gate – and oh, joy – my mother was already standing there in the open doorway, with her hands on her hips.
I falsely smile – no one can resist smiling back, if I do – and walking across the garden, I say, “Hi, Mom!”

She glares at me. Why can’t she just smile – like anyone else would?
I guess it’s because she’s my mother, and she knows every characteristic behavior of mine, even the sneaky ones. Aw, what a bummer.

My mom steps back slightly, hands still on hips, as I (smile faltering) walk past her to enter the living room.

The living room, convenient for early morning or late evening reading (which is what me and my mother love doing), contains lots of carved furniture, and the décor is wonderfully neat.
Throughout the house, there are deep colored moldings and dark wood floors accented with Oriental rugs – so the place is really rather beautiful.
Although we don’t have a man in the family to take care of the finance and stuff, my Mom handles it all finely in my opinion – working as a professor in the Felicity University, in NYC.

But we actually moved since she got a better paying job here – at Albert Einstein University.

I’m glad for my Mom, of course, but I still wish we hadn’t moved.
If we hadn’t moved I wouldn’t have joined Chelsea Heights School and I wouldn’t have had the frog incident and gone to the Acorn’s office and – well, you get the picture.

I would probably be chatting with Danielle on the phone, right now – not facing my mother, ready for a huge lecture.

“Well, young lady?” my Mom’s hands are not on her hips any more, but folded across her chest.
She gazes at me with that steely look of hers.

I laugh weakly.
She continuously glares at me – and I give up all pretence. “Oh, fine”, I roll my eyes, throwing myself onto a cream-colored sofa.

“Fine? That’s all?”, Mom stares at me angrily. She continues, shooting death glares at me, “You’re principal called me today, Cinderelle Marigold Varde. She told me you were not allowed to come to school tomorrow – because you supposedly let a frog free in the Biology laboratory causing chaos”.

I roll my eyes again – does she have to rub it in? I know all the facts.
Hello- I was there.

When Mom’s eyes obviously show disapproval at me rolling my eyes at her, I sigh.

“Oh, come on, Mom, it’s not like that”, I say, rubbing my temples.

I’ve had enough of this day already.
“Look –“, I launch into telling her all that happened in the Bio class. Exactly what happened.

Without leaving out any part. Just like I told Principal Acron.

However, Mom’s reaction was different from Acorn’s.

When I finally finished my tale – Mom was not standing in front of me – she was sitting down beside me, listening to everything deeply.
That’s one thing I like about my mother.
She listens to me.
And tells me what’s right and what’s wrong…

See, I like to have things handed straight to me in a platter.
I understand better.

Ms. Varde looks at me.
She just looks at me.
“That is seriously, one long story”, she says, a slight smile emerging along her lips.

And then I realize that I won’t be grounded or anything – because when my mother makes a pointless joke – I know everything’s going to get better.

I lean back into the sofa and my mother says, “It’s okay, hon. I know how you feel- it’s okay”.

Okay, so I know most of you teens out there would probably scream, “No- you don’t know how I feel- so stop browbeating me, Mom!” or something like, “Whatever, I just wanna go into my room” or something like that – right?
Well, I don’t say anything of the sort.
I love my mother, very, very much – I’d never scream at her in the first place.

I mean – hello – this is the woman that brought you onto this Earth and fed you and cared for you – you should at least have some respect for this lady you call your mother, people!

“It’s not okay. The Acorn is so horrid”, I groan.

My mother stifls a laugh at that one and I couldn’t help grinning either.

‘The Acorn’… pshaw, what a name.

My Mom goes, “Don’t worry about it anymore, okay? After all, what have we always reminded each other?”

She smiles playfully at me and I laugh, saying, “Men and boys are equal to trouble with a capital ‘T’”.

With that, we both laugh – it’s our trademark words, it’s what we say to each other, whenever a man (or boy) causes us problems.
Like when Alex tried to get with me.
And like when my Mom tried out dating (she got fed up of it after the first four tries) and a guy dumped her or something.

Guys always seem to be the problem, doesn’t it?

“Right”, Mom smiles. “You know, I wish I could call ‘The Acorn’ and fix this thing up properly – demanding the rights of my poor daughter – but I know you’d mind me doing that, wouldn’t you?” she says, jokingly, nodding her blond head at me.

See- see? This is why she’s such an awesome mother.
She totally understands me.
Totally.

I smile, nodding back – I wouldn’t want to be on bad terms with the principal of my new school during the first week itself. Heck, what am I saying? - The first day itself!

Mom stands up – and she goes, “Want me to make something for you?”, looking down at me.

I shake my head. “Just a coke – I’ll go get it myself, it’s okay. I wanna go out now, to the beach. Is that okay?”
I raise my dark brows at her and she nods, rather reluctantly, I see – but she still nods.

“Okay, you can go. Let my go get some shut eye, okay, darling?” she stifles a yawn and I smile, “Sure”.

My mother heads to her room and I stand up wearily, heading towards the kitchen.
The kitchenette is complete with pub-style table and bar stools, a huge, white refrigerator, microwave, sink and coffee maker.
It’s too much, actually.
But I don’t bother much. I pull open the door of the fridge – icy air blowing immediately into my face, stinging my eyes a little.
I reach for a Coca Cola can – steaming up at my warm touch – and I head towards the front door.

I needed some fresh air, right now, and that’s all I need to refresh myself.

And boy, do I need refreshing, after this hell of a day.