so I pulled out the paper with the teeth marks. She said it was a first.
Joker also keeps me company before Mom comes home from work. Mom works really hard doing marketing and advertising. She said she does a lot of writing and saying how good a product is, highlighting the advantages and sending the presentations to clients. Sounds boring, but she seems to enjoy it.
My smart phone rings and I see it is one of my friends from school. Tasha has a birthday coming up and I know the invite to her party is coming soon. I answer the phone and get the news. “Maggie, my party is this Saturday. Do you think you can come?”
“I think so,” I said excitedly. “Where will it be?”
“At my house, with a DJ and it will be a makeup party!”
A makeup party. My wildest dream come true for a party. When I am a designer or stylist, makeup will be a big part of my life and I better learn the ropes now. Besides, what’s not to love? I was nearly 100 percent positive I’d be cleared for the party. I told Tasha I couldn’t wait to help her with the details. I wondered who would be there though. For the most part, Tasha and I have the same friends but a couple of the girls have become not as nice as they used to be. It’s sad too, because just last year they were fun and some of my best friends. My mom says that friendships are more complicated as we get older. She also said middle school is fun, but hard sometimes.
“I could sure use some help with planning Saturday,” she said. “Would you like to come?”
“Most definitely!” I said. “Is Carly going to be there?” I asked tentatively. “I think so,” Tasha said. My heart sank a little, but I was determined to not let it get to me. “I can’t wait,” I said. “See you tomorrow at school.”
Carly and I have had a “tempestuous” relationship as they might say on TV. Last year, we were together all the time. We decorated lockers together, sewed clothes after school and ate frozen yogurt at this cool place that lets you make your own sundae with several choices of toppings. Yum. We walked our dogs together and did sleepovers, but this year, Carly developed some “different interests” and by that I mean she’s a bully and makes people miserable. She started hanging out with other girls too. I miss her but I have some other pretty cool friends too.
I got off the bus and headed for home. My alone time after school is too awesome. I turn the lights off, lay on my bed for a little while and just close my eyes until Mom comes home. It allows me to process what happened during the day.
I hear Mom come in and jump up. Joker beat me to it though. He jumps three feet off the ground at any sound, he can’t relax!
I rush down to see her and give her a hug and kiss. “Hey sweetie,” Mom says. “How was your day?” This is our daily ritual. She then wants to know my homework status before getting to the most important question of all, that being dinner.
It is me and my mom and we call ourselves single mom and daughter in the city. My dad lives close by so I see him too but he works a lot and is very busy. He does the same kind of work as my mom.
As we talk about our day, my mom tells me about this new marketing job that she’s been working on. She looks tired, but says she’s happy to be home. My mom works with government clients a lot. We live near Washington, D.C., and we have lived here for a few years. Before living here, my mom worked in Japan, Hawaii and California and I lived there with her.
We lit a strawberry-scented candle and begin cooking and talking. Joker and his flammable self likes to freak us out by coming painfully close to the candle, but he’s easily distracted by his squeaky rubber ball toy. We lure him away from the potential danger and continue with cooking.
I told her about how today was a music day at school and how Jason, the boy sitting next to me, got kicked out of class for hitting the girl in front of him over the head with a tin lunch box. I also told her about how Pam, who sits behind me in science, got sick on the floor and left early. All in all, it was a typical middle school day.
Mom always seems to enjoy my stories no matter how ridiculous.
As we tick off the events that happened in our days, I was thinking about the earlier conversation with Tasha. I was excited to tell Mom about the upcoming party. “Mom, Tasha is having a birthday party and I want to go,” I said.
Mom raised her eyebrows at me. I hadn’t been excited about a party in a while and I could see that she was wondering why I was bursting at the seams for this one. But she didn’t ask any further questions, just told me I could go.
I was excited for school the next day. Party planning is my specialty. Well, one of them. I also like to sketch designs and draw and put together makeup videos to post online. I want to take guitar lessons too, but my mom said she has to save money for that one. For now, I play a mean trombone.
I consider myself to be a girl’s girl, but I mean, I just love all kinds of music. I like hip hop, classic rock and current poppy stuff. Last year, I went to this awesome concert and I couldn’t believe that my idol and I were in the same arena! I mean I was so excited. My friend was there too, in a different row, and we texted each other during the concert. I love this singer. She has six pack abs and killer clothes. She is most definitely an influence on me.
As I lay in my bed that night, I said my prayers and thought about everything that had happened in the last year, scratch that, the last few years. There’s been a new school, new friends, the stuff with my mom and dad and some of the other stuff. I know these are supposed to be great years, but I think the people who say that are adults who haven’t been this age in like a million years. Things just seem so complicated.
As I drift off to sleep, I hear the comforting sounds of Joker nearby. He’s quite something and so cute. I’m excited for tomorrow and just have a feeling that this eighth grade year is going to be the best ever.
Chapter 4
As I carried my trombone to the bus stop, I was feeling excited for the day ahead. I think what I wear really reflects how I’m feeling during a particular day. I had my blonde hair braided, I was wearing my favorite sweater with my dark blue skinny jeans and black sneakers. I was so ready for the day and the little pink flower I had drawn on my hand was giving me some quiet inspiration.
The usual suspects were at the bus stop. Pretty tame generally unless someone decided to start something. I mean, things could get a little rough should someone be so inclined. One time, a kid fell into another by accident – by accident! – and before you know it, people are on the ground throwing blows. I try to lay low at the bus stop. My mom says places like the bus stop are good life lessons. Nice advice, but she doesn’t have to wait there. Overall, the bus stop sucks but it beats walking.
As the bus pulls up, I see Mr. Knickerbocker has been replaced by Ms. Greely for the day. Jeesh, this should be good. She smells like garlic morning noon and night and is a real witch and also the word that rhymes with that last word I just said. Her idea of patience is telling kids to hurry up and get the hell on the bus and that’s if she’s in a good mood. And there lies the other reason to lie low this morning.
As kids begin climbing the steps into the bus, one kid shoves another jokingly. I cringe as I anticipate the yelling and other things that will soon follow. I am not disappointed and the kids walk sheepishly to their seats in the back.
This is so ridiculous. Every morning that is a trombone-carrying morning is. I mean, fitting the case through the narrow bus door is a lesson in space management, no doubt about it. Already I’m frustrated. Much
