Magnolia

I knew better. I knew that letting Presley meet me at my school after the student council meeting wasn't a good idea. But I'd spent the whole day thinking about him. I wanted to see him, especially after seeing that my mother had apparently found time in her busy day to email me back her "concerns" with my application essay.

   She'd suggested about twenty changes and what she didn't want me to change, she basically insulted. I had worked hard on it, poured my heart and soul into an essay for the college advisors to read. But her once-over made me regret it all.  She always made me doubt myself, which had been normal, before. I was used to it. But now? Now I just felt rage.

   So when Presley asked to meet me at my school, I agreed. I had to do something for me. It turned out he'd had a crappy day, too. It broke my heart that some douche bag had punched him, over some other girl. Some girl he didn't care about, at all. And as I sat there beside him in his car, all I wanted was to make him feel better.

   Kissing Presley made me forget about my mother. It made me have no cares in the world, and that was exactly how I needed to feel. Staring into his eyes, I wanted to tell him that. I wanted to tell him everything I was feeling. But then my phone was ringing.

   "Shit. My mom."

   He sat back in his seat and looked away, but I saw the look on his face. He was horrified.

   "Hello?" I answered the call, my heart racing.

   "Maggie, why aren't you home? I thought you said the meeting would go until 4:30pm?" Her voice was so sharp and stern. She never said hello. She never even acted like she was happy to hear my voice.

   "Yes, it just went a bit long," I said, easily.

   Glancing at Presley, I saw that he was practically holding his breath.

   "Well, you should have texted me. If it ended at 4:30 I expected you to be home by now. It's almost 5."

   "Yeah, I know. I'm walking," I lied. "Five minutes away."

   She sighed, like I was such a problem child. "Did you see my email?"

   "Yes." I didn't want to talk about the email, especially not when Presley could hear. He already knew enough about how horrible she was.

   "Well, you obviously have a lot of work to do tonight, so hurry home." She hung up immediately after her own words.

   I slowly put my phone down into my lap and let out a deep breath, shutting my eyes. Presley reached over for my hand immediately, and I let him take it.

   "You are practically shaking, Magnolia," he spoke quietly.

   "She just really gets to me," I said, not looking at him.

   "You should stick up for yourself," he said, then looked away when I opened my eyes and looked right at him.

   He didn't understand. I didn't expect him to. His parents were loving and would never treat him like mine treated me. I knew it wasn't okay. But I knew they would tighten my leash even more if I tried to change it. It was better this way. 

   "I can't," I told him, waiting for him to look at me again. He was tense, and I turned towards him and reached up to slide my hand over his face again. He looked at me but didn't speak. "Thank you for caring. Really. But I know my parents."

   "Okay," he said, then leaned in to kiss me. I opened my mouth for him again and closed my eyes, wishing things were different. "I'll get you home."

   Without me asking, he stopped all the way down the street, near the corner. He shut off the car, then turned to me as I undid my seat belt. He knew better than to drive all the way to my house. He didn't like it, but he knew what had to be done.

   "See you tomorrow?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "I have until 5:30P.M."

   He nodded, then shifted to get closer to me. "I'll text you the address tonight. I'm there 4 to 8pm."

   "Okay," I finished, but suddenly remembered about homecoming. He'd talked about his, but I hadn't told him my plan for mine. "Oh, can I call you tonight?"

   He grinned, so big that I almost forgot that this whole situation was messed up. "Of course. Always."

   "Okay," I said again, then leaned in and pressed my mouth against his cheek.

   Why was it always so hard to leave him? Would it always be this way? I had tears in my eyes that I had to deal with before I walked down the sidewalk and turned down my driveway towards my house.

   My mother had just worked a ten hour day. She'd left the house while I was still asleep and had been in the busy E.R. all day. But now she was watching out that front window, her eyes narrowed in on me as I appeared.

   I approached the front door with caution, as always. On a good day, I didn't know what to expect with her mood, or her demands. Today, she was already mad at me for being late. She'd already emailed me about how horrible my essay was.

   "Maggie, come in here," she called from the living room, as soon as I stepped in the door.

   I slipped out of my shoes and dropped my bag before continuing on to meet her. She was standing, so I stayed in the doorway, keeping my distance. It wasn't like she ever wanted me close to her, anyway.

   "I have ordered dinner, it should be here soon," she began, which was not what I was expecting. "I have to catch up on emails and some work, so I want you to be working on your essay for the evening. Email me back the new version before 8P.M."

   There it was. Her demands. Her plan for my evening.

   I wanted to argue, but there was no sense in that. I knew being sassy wouldn't help me out, either, but I didn't care. "Sure."

   "Sure?" she questioned, shaking her head in disbelief. "I didn't have a lot of free time today, and I spent it correcting your essay. Getting it edited and sent back to me tonight before I go to bed should not be too much to ask." Her hand was on her hip, her pointed look staring me down.

   "Fine, I'll be in my bedroom," I said, turning already.

   "A thank you would be nice," she called after me, but I didn't respond.

   Can you drive me to the music store... Bob's... tomorrow after school? I texted Yasmin, a little while later.

   I'd made the changes to my essay and was happy with it, but I wasn't about to send it back to my mom this soon. I knew better. She'd criticize it and say I didn't put enough effort in. So I was waiting. My stomach was rumbling, but I didn't feel like going back downstairs to eat whatever she had ordered.

   Yasmin: Of course. Are you going to tell me why?

   Me: Presley works there. I told my mom I have STEM after school

   Yasmin: So the lying begins...

   Me: I need you to help me out here, Yas.

   Yasmin: I already said yes.  I'm on board.

   Me: Okay. Thanks. I have 2 be home by 530

   Yasmin: Am I your personal driver now?

   Me: I can't tell if ur joking Yas

   Yasmin: Yes. I'm kidding. Haha

   Me: Okay good. Love you

   Yasmin: Luv u 2. See u tomorrow

   I waited another thirty minutes before I emailed my mother, because it was the only thing I could control. It was only ten minutes before 8P.M., but I knew she'd be annoyed with me anyway.

   Ten minutes later my phone dinged and I had a new email from her. I opened it on my laptop, holding my breath. Everything felt like a near explosion when it came to her. As if I was always on the edge of a cliff and if I said the wrong thing or didn't completely obey, I'd be falling.

   That looks better. Save that copy to submit with your application.

   That was it. No 'good job'. No 'I'm proud of you'. Definitely no 'love mom'. I knew none of that was her style. I knew she didn't have it in her. But somehow I still expected more.

   With tears in my eyes, I called Presley.

   "Hey," he answered after a few rings.

   I was sobbing, but tried to hold it back. "Hi."

   "Mag, what's wrong?" He'd never called me Mag before. I didn't hate it. He sounded so concerned, so I swallowed hard.

   "Just my mom..." I sniffled. "It's nothing."

   "It's something if you're crying."

   "On Thursday... she thinks I'm going to my homecoming," I said quickly, wiping my face.

   "Okay? My homecoming is Thursday, too."

   Wait, how had I not known that?

   "I have to be home at ten," I said realizing that I wasn't making any sense. "Pick me up from my school parking lot? At 630?"

   "I most definitely can, but-" he answered, but I cut him off.

   "If you want to go to yours, we can. I'll dress up and we can go show people at your school that you have a girlfriend," I said, trying to smile.

   "Do you want to do that?" he asked, curious. "I mean, I would love to."

   "Okay, it's settled. 630P.M. The parking lot," I repeated.

   "Okay. You sure you're okay, tonight?" He had another question, his voice a bit quieter.

   "I am now," I told him.

   "You're my girlfriend?" he asked, cutely.

   "I would hope so," I whispered. "See you tomorrow."

   "Okay. Tomorrow."