Chapter 6

School's exhausting. Whew! This is why I kind of hate senior year. The higher you go, the tougher it becomes. Although, there's a part of me that wouldn't go back to where school assignments were just colouring a colour book and tracing drawings in drawing books.

Senior year, yaaayyy!

Total crap!

I can't wait for Graduation Day, when I walk out those doors and never come back. I think.

I twist the door handles to my house and I'm immediately greeted by the beautiful scent of canoils and cinnamon rolls.

"Hey fam" I greet my mom and dad in a chirpy manner.

"Hey sweetheart" they chorus and I cringe at their twin spirit. Sometimes is scary.

"Whatcha cooking momma?"

"What you can smell" she replies, finishing up the last roll of cinnamon rolls and adding it to the many on the tray. She cracks eggs and adds olive oil, before glazing it over the rolls to give it that golden brown look when it's baked. Ah! My mom is good.

Mhm, someone is sassy today.

"Can I have a bite please?"

"No"

Of course.

"Why?" I tuck my bottom lip out "Mom you're being unfair" I turn to dad "Dad tell mom I'm a growing woman and I have to eat"

"Honey tell you daughter she shouldn't come into my kitchen without changing her clothes and washing her hands" she retorts

"You heard your mom darling, just go upstairs and do what you need to, you'll be done in a minute" he says with a smile.

I look over at my mom one last time thinking she'll change her mind and let me have a canoil or a roll, but she gives me the 'Touch it and I'll break your hand with my wooden spoon' look.

I sigh and roll my eyes, glaring at her playfully being running up the stairs.

I change out of my clothes and turn it over to the outside, before placing it in the laundry basket, which is almost full. I change into a baggy t-shirt and shorts before taking the basket down the stairs straight to the laundry room.

I separate the blacks from the white and start the laundry by putting on the washing machine.

I can't believe I'm doing this, my mom does this most of the time, but I can't go and be like 'mom can you do my laundry cause I don't give a damn if you're pregnant, you'll still have to do it anyway'.

I won't even finish my sentence before I'm slapped. I snort at my foolishness. Although there's something nice about doing laundry, while you smell the sweat in your old clothes and cringe up your nose, thinking about certain things in life.

Like how my mom said "... your daughter" earlier to my dad, felt weird. It's as though she's saying it and she means it. I shrug the thought away, I'm just over thinking again.

"Umm, I have my list, my car keys and my calculator. Where's my calculator?" My mom questions herself.

"Oh there she is" she murmurs when she sees me

"Your calculator is a she now?" I ask

"Of course, you're always doing my calculations" she smirks

"Anyway, can you calculate this for - "

"$4,500" I say, looking at the list of numbers

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah" I mutter

I kind of have a weird memory when it comes to numbers, I think that's what makes me great at maths.

"Anyway, why so much?" I ask

"For my baby shower"

"So late?"I ask

Cause I know the baby shower is like when you're 5 to 6 months in.

"Doesn't matter, can be done anytime, even the minute you to find out you're pregnant"

Oh, I didn't know that.

"So you're going to go shopping I presume?"

I ask, stuffing a cinnamon roll in my mouth.

"Exactly! You could come if you want to, your dad wants to have some football time with some friends, I've hired someone to clean the place, since it's been long because of my condition" she says.

"What if I didn't want to go?"

I aks, wiping my hand with a tissue after having my second roll leaving me stuffed.

I get satisfied quite early ya know.

"The person would have cleaned anyways" she says

"Look mom, I understand you want the place cleaned but the idea of letting someone invade our home to do something that I can do just doesn't feel right" I say, upset

"So what do you want me to do? Leave the house dirty? I have a baby shower coming up this weekend and you want me to leave this place like this, you've got to be kidding me" she says, her voice slightly rising.

"Kidding is when we don't have any one at home with valuable things in the house and allowing a stranger to come here in the name if cleaning, something I can do if you'll only allow me, I'm not going to let anyone come clean this place whilst I'm here, it's either you let me clean this place or do it by yourself or have the programme in the dirt. But letting someone come clean our house, is not an option" I say and storm off to my room. I just want to help her, but sometimes she can be a bit too much.

"Oh and yeah, have the pleasure of doing your shopping alone. Have a goodnight" I say half way up the stairs and storm off. Crap!

•••

I wake up to the sound of my blaring alarm. Sometimes I wish I could just ditch school and have some sleep but I know it's not an option. In order to succeed, you have to kill yourself to survive. Does that make sense? Yes. Not kill yourself literally, but push yourself beyond your limits and can do's, so you get a victorious last laugh.

After the unnecessary argument I had with my mom, I came to my room and never went down for dinner. No one also came to call me, not even dad.

He just sat there and watch mom and I argue. He didn't say anything, and if he wanted to, I didn't give him the chance.

I just don't find that idea outgoing.

It degrades me, as if I can't even clean my own home, who can clean this place better than me, besides, I have a bad feeling about this whole rental cleaning thing.

And. I'm. Not. Changing. My. Mind!

Enough with my thoughts, I get and grab a towel and head for the bathroom. I do my morning routine and comeback out within fifteen minutes.

What to wear?

I grab a pair of blue jeans and match it with a grey Havard t-shirt with a black Nike backpack and some beckingstocks. I pull my hair into a simple ponytail and smoosh my lips with a lip balm.

I grab my glasses with my phone and car keys and head out the door.

I jog down the stairs and see my parents having breakfast.

"Good morning dad" I cheerfully greet

"Good Morning honey, how did you sleep?" He asks

"Like a baby, I slept perfect, my bed does most of the job" I say with a soft chuckle

My mom is sitting staring at me expecting me to tell her something.

But I'm done with her. I've said all I wanted to. And I stand my ground.

I grab an apple, kiss my dad's cheeks, say good bye to him and head out the door.

That was quite a silent treatment.

Well that's a first!

I hope into my car and drive off to school.