“Bye,” we both say as we head back over to the coffee shop.
Holy shit! I cannot believe I just got a tattoo. My act of rebellion is thrilling, and I like the energy that flows through me. I could get used to this excitement.
Chapter Three
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“I still can’t believe you got a tattoo, and I’m still pissed that you did it without me,” Kimber says.
“Honestly, it was a spur of the moment thing,” I say as I sit on the floor and unpack my dance bag. I have been living in the studio for the past few days. Classes are about to start, and I want to make sure I’m prepared and on top of my game. Kimber had been upset when I told her about my rare act of rebellion, but she’s since calmed down.
“I am so excited that you are coming out with us tomorrow. I’m not sure what has gotten into you, but I like it,” she says as she sits on my bed and watches me as I rub baby powder into my pointe shoes and hang them on a hook in my closet to air dry.
I start stripping off my sweaty clothes. “I don’t know. Roxy just finally got through to me, I guess. She’s right; it’s time to start having a little bit of fun.”
I hear my phone chime, and I walk over to my desk to read a new text.
“Who’s that?” Kimber asks.
“It’s from Jack. I haven’t heard from him since we went out last Friday.”
Kimber jumps off the bed and is quickly hanging over my shoulder to read his message.
Got plans tomorrow night?
For some reason Thursday nights are big nights to go out around here. The bars and clubs are always packed.
“You should ask him to come with us,” she says as she smacks my bottom and walks out of my room.
I sit down at my desk and text him back.
Going dancing at Remedy with some friends. You should come!
Remedy huh? What time?
Around 10:30.
Meet you there?
Yeah. See you then.
I hop up from my chair, excited about seeing him tomorrow, and throw on some clothes. I make my way to the kitchen to fix a salad. While I’m chopping some veggies, my phone begins to ring. I pick it up to see that it’s my mother. Crap.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, darling. Look, there is a banquet this Saturday, and I am being recognized for my contributions to the Children’s Foundation. I need you to be there,” she demands.
I know she only wants me to attend for appearance’s sake. One supportive, happy family. It’s such a lie.
“I can’t, Mom. I have to work that night.”
“Well, take off,” she says as if it’s no big deal.
“I can’t ask off work three days in advance. It doesn’t work that way.” I get so annoyed by her lack of consideration.
“Christ, Candace,” she barks at me. “This is important. I don’t even know why you have that little job.”
“I like working, Mom. I’m sorry, but I just can’t go,” I say in the softest tone I can manage because I know she’s about to flip. This is so typical of her.
“I swear, I don’t know how to deal with you. You are such a selfish little girl. Here you are, playing around in college on your father’s dime, and you can’t even choose a respectable major. It’s quite embarrassing. Then, when I ask you to do something to support me, you blow me off for some trivial job you don’t even need. Where is your loyalty to this family?”
My face heats and I slam the knife down on the hard granite countertop. “Support you? You always want me to support you, Mother. What about supporting me? Shit, Mom, you have never once attended any of my shows. I work my ass off. You have no clue what it is I am doing here. I’m sick of this shit. I’m never going to be good enough, am I? What do you want from me? Please, just tell me so I know exactly what I need to do to make you fuckin’ like me!” Disconnecting the call, I throw the phone across the counter. I am beyond pissed. My heart is racing, and I try to slow my breathing so I can calm down.
“What’s with the screaming?” Kimber asks softly, knowing I rarely ever lose my temper.
My eyes begin to sting, and when I turn around to look at her, the tears start to fall. I feel so hopeless. I’ve fought with my mother my whole life, and I have no idea why she is the way that she is. She knows exactly what to say to me to set me off. I know it’s only a matter of time before my dad calls to smooth things over and make excuses for her.
Kimber walks over and wraps her arms around me. “What happened?”
I let go of Kimber and wipe my face with the backs of my hands. “My mother. She went on another one of her tirades and thought it would be fun to belittle me. She just set me off, and I couldn’t hold it in.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
“Not really. I think I’ll just take a quick shower and call it a night.”
“You sure?” she questions me with concern.