MIA
IF THERE’S ONE THING I’m grateful for in my life, it’s that arranged marriages aren’t common anymore. At least not in Hempstead, Texas.
I mean, yeah, I’m also glad that I’m alive and that my mom is happy and healthy and all that stuff. Oh, and my hair has finally stopped doing that frizzy thing in the morning that usually takes at least twenty minutes to straighten.
And for the absence of Meatloaf Mondays at school. Or rather Mystery Mondays because I’m not sure what they did to make the meat harden like a can of Play-Doh that had been left out in the sun for a week. One of life’s biggest mysteries. Whatever it was, it finally got taken off the menu for good. Sometimes it sucks that I can’t leave school grounds until I’m a senior next year.
But today, I was definitely most grateful about the whole arranged-marriage thing. Especially as my mom tugged on my shirt for the tenth time while I tried to usher her out the door.
“Seriously, Mom, if we don’t leave right this second, I’m going to miss first period, which will result in me failing calculus. Then I’ll have to drop out of school and end up living here with you forever.” Clasping my fingers around her wrist, I dragged her across the porch. Well, attempted to. It was like trying to move a boulder. Or me out of bed on a Sunday morning. “Just you, me, and a dozen dogs I’m going to adopt. Big, drooling, fluffy ones.”
My threats did nothing to faze her. “We have time. Why are you wearing this shirt again?” Her fingers rubbed on my left sleeve as though she were trying to make the violet color fade. “I swear, Mia, I always buy you such pretty outfits, and you never wear any of them.”
“You mean you always buy me pretty blue outfits. You know I hate the color blue.”
“Nonsense. No one could hate the color blue. It’s the color of the sky. Do you hate the sky?”
Rolling my eyes, I let go of her and crossed my arms. “Yes, I hate the sky. It’s on the list of top five things I hate along with ice cream, freshly cut grass, and puppies. Especially cute round corgis that like to roll around and frolic in grassy green meadows. So. Annoying.”
Her left eyebrow rose. “You shouldn’t be so sarcastic this early in the morning. It’s bad for your indigestion.”
“It’s okay. Walmart has a two-for-one sale for Tums this week. I’ll pick them up along with some Red Bull and batteries to give you some energy.”
Instead of responding, she just let out a heavy sigh as if the weight of the world’s problems was on her shoulders. Or maybe it was. It certainly wasn’t easy having me for a daughter. Something she told me weekly.
Basking in my triumph of getting the last word in, I reached out and grabbed the keys from her hand. “If you’re not in the car in two minutes, I’m leaving without you.”
She gaped at me, both hands on her hips. “Excuse me, who exactly is the parent around here?”
“Something I wonder all the time,” I muttered under my breath.
To be honest, I didn’t hate the sky. Or ice cream and corgis. You’d have to be some sort of psycho to hate corgis. Although freshly cut grass did stir up my allergies like crazy, so I wasn’t exactly fond of that. But I especially didn’t hate the color blue. In fact, I loved it, but I could never wear it. The problem was the reason my mom insisted on me wearing blue all the time—from scrunchies and earrings to socks and underwear. And that was because blue was Jake’s favorite color.
Damn Jake Adler. Number one on my hate list. He’s the real reason I would rather wear a dress of fresh grass than wear blue. Ever.
Speaking of Mr. Number One …
Across the street, Mrs. Adler dragged him toward us with a determined look on her face. Suddenly Mom’s reluctance to leave made sense. I quickened my pace.
The pain of having to go to school was only shadowed when our moms made us go together. Always together. No matter what. Family vacations, Sunday brunches, heck, even dentist appointments with Jake weren’t enough. No, they schemed for us to go to school together every chance they got.
Last week, we avoided this by waking up at different times, but Jake’s mom and my mom caught on pretty quickly. Now they were our own personal alarm clocks. And sometimes Mom’s way of waking me up included cold water that she flicked on my face until I woke up. Harsh but effective. I’m glad she didn’t just dump it on me. Probably didn’t want the extra laundry.
Jake’s feet shuffled against the asphalt so hard that I expected the rubber to be scraped off his navy sneakers by the time he reached our house.
As soon as Mom spotted them, she let out a little squeal that she immediately tried to cover up with a cough. “Oh my God, I completely forgot that I had plans with Jake’s mom today. I don’t think I could drive you to school after all.”
I gave her a blank stare and leaned against the hood of my car. “Gee, isn’t that funny how things worked out? And on the day that your car is in the shop.”
“It’s not my fault that my car needed to have the brakes replaced.” Her hand fluttered dramatically against her chest as she gasped. “You think I wanted my brakes to be faulty and be recalled at the factory? We’re just lucky we didn’t get into an accident beforehand. You could be at my funeral right now.”
It’s easy to see where I got my flair for theatrics. And I wasn’t buying any of it. Still, I surrendered my car keys to her. “Yeah … and when did you say you were going to get your car back again?”
She brushed a strand of hair off of her face. Slowly. Delicately. “Oh, it may take all day. They’re probably going to check the car for other stuff. Just in case. It’s better to be thorough.”
“If you need a ride, Mia, Jake would be happy to drive you,” Mrs. Adler announced as she strolled up our sidewalk with Jake in tow. Both his hands were shoved into his jeans pockets. His dark hair was still damp and curled slightly around the nape of his neck and forehead. She must have dragged him out of the shower or something to get over here so quickly. “And he could drive you home, too.”
Jake sighed. “Happy isn’t exactly the word I would choose.”
“Plus, if that was the case, I’d rather walk,” I muttered under my breath.
But Mom’s superhuman ears heard me. “If that’s what you want. You could use the exercise after lying around the house all weekend.”
Ouch. That was low. Especially because I’m pretty sure my extra baby fat and slightly round cheeks came from her side of the family. Everyone always said we were spitting images of each other. Something that delighted her to no end.
Copyright © 2019 by Jenn P. Nguyen
