“Beauty and brains,” Mr. Hamilton says. “A heady combination.”
His words coat my skin like slime as I feel him looking in my direction. I don’t turn his way or say a word. I simply stare down at the paper that obviously means nothing to the two people in the world I’ve worked so hard to impress. Before I can stop it, a tear leaks from my eye and plops onto the paper. In a rash move, I scoot back my chair, eliciting a startled gasp from my mother. I snatch the page off the table and make some lame excuse about not feeling well as I hurry out of the room.
Ignoring the call of my name by my mother, I manage to negotiate the stairs as I flee to my room, slamming the door this time and locking it. I don’t throw a tantrum or flop myself on my bed to cry like some silly little girl. Instead, I pace the room, my temper increasing as I swipe away another stupid tear. The paper in my other hand is effectively crushed again and I toss it in the trash can.
What the hell do I need it for? I know what I’ve accomplished. I don’t need some paper telling me what I’ve worked toward. And I don’t need to endure the apathy of my parents who couldn’t seem to care less about those accomplishments.
I continue to march from one end of my room to another but my frustration continues to build. On impulse, I grab my swim bag, knowing what’s in there, and trade my ballet flats for a pair of trusty athletics. Picking up my phone, I clench it in my fist as I sling my bag across my back. I exit my room, slipping down the stairs and to the rear door, knowing I won’t pass by the dining room. As stealthily as I can, I exit the house, locking the door behind me. With plenty of daylight remaining, I’m not worried about being out in the city by myself. I walk several blocks before I stop to text my mom, letting her know I’ve gone for a swim. If she and Dad are really concerned and want me home, they’ll know exactly where I am and will come for me.
I doubt that’ll happen though. Especially with theirguest, Mr. Creepy Hamilton.
I’m sure I’ll hear all about how I embarrassed them with my actions, but right now,Icouldn’t care less. I’m going to go for a swim and forget about my disappointment. I’d rather be at the beach, but since that can’t happen at the moment, I’ll settle for the pool at the club where we have a membership.
Later, I’ll brace myself for the confrontation with my parents and hope that maybe they’ll be the ones apologizing this time.
