Seventy Times Seven

"So, whats been going on?" Mom stood in the middle of the livingroom, slightly in shock of the excessive Christmas decorations. I was on a minor high, trying to keep myself a little normal, for some reason I didn't feel like saying 'Guess what?! You know that guy that I used to complain about? And used to call me names and make me cry when I was little?! He's my boyfriend!!'

I played it off as being happy that she was home.

"I've just been hanging out with a few people. Annnd they have pretty creative personalities."

She went off to the bathroom, unpacking her bag. "So who've you been hanging out with?"

"Umm.. Gerard and Mikey mainly.. And their friend Ray..and Frank." I mumbled the last part, hoping she wouldn't ask questions.

Not my mom though. "Frank? Frank who?"

"Iero.."

She stopped and looked out the bathroom. "Frank Iero? Like, the Frank Iero that used to talk trash to you all the time?"

"Yea..he apologized.. He's..a pretty good friend now." I couldn't help but smile. If only she knew!

Her eyes got wide. "Chelsea.. You're talking about Frank? The Frank that you'd come home and punch walls about? The Frank you were going to kill not too long ago?!"

I laughed a little, "Yea he's actually pretty cool when he's not being an ass.."

She looked at me for a second, then shook her head with a small smirk. "Language," she mumbled as she finished emptying her bag. "Cool. Do you wanna go to Napoli's and do dinner?"

She always asked this as soon as she got home from a long business trip. Thats her favourite place to eat. "Sure. I'll drive."

"Great. I'm freaking tired of driving."

Ok. This is the part where you learn all about the physical features of me, my mom, and my dad.

First. My mom is tiny, and has grey eyes. Which is where I get it from. Shes five nine-ish, and extremely skinny. She has a small nose, perfect for her black rimmed, rectangular glasses, and has long shiny black hair.

Picture that, with all of her hair tied up in a tight bun stuck at the back of her head, a tiny grey suit jacket, knee length skirt, black heels, and a Wilsons Leather suitcase? You have my mom. Perfect body for a business woman.

My dad. He's about five eleven. Back when I knew him, he had kinda shortish brown hair (brown hair, like me) and has brown eyes (not like me). The rest, like, his personality, style, music taste, ecetera? All me.

Today, my mom was dressed in casual attire. Her definition of casual, is her hair pulled back in a not-as-tight-as-normal bun (a single strand falling down, but I bet as soon as she realizes it she'll try as much as possible to pin it back), a white three quarter sleeve button up shirt, with a navy blue tanktop underneath. And nice jeans.

Me? My normal, naturally messy hair, a Leftover Crack shirt, an oversized thin jacket with a tear in the side, and jeans with the knees ripped out.

What was that? Why, yes, we're related.

We pulled into Napolis and took our normal booth at the window. And I just knew she was waiting for me to ask her 'the question'.

"So, how was your trip?"

She put her elbows on the table and rubbed her temples, "Oh god.. you have no idea."

Then, she proceeded to tell me ever single detail about her trip. About the funny smelling guy she sat next to on the plane. How the flight attendants always seem to be rude, slutty chicks with too much eye makeup. How horrible some of the problems a few of the familys had (but she 'couldn't say much more, do to privacy laws'). How bad the traffic was, and how angry she was when she couldn't come home yesterday because of the snow.

She only paused once, to order a long island ice tea.

"I have to leave in three days now. Three! I hate working so much. Especially over Christmas! Of all times! Do these people not realize I have a life? Agh!"

She found that hair I was telling you about. She furrowed her perfect eyebrows, dipping a finger in her drink, and patting the hair back on her head.

Viola. Perfect hair yet again.

I nodded and took a drink of my coke. You know, if my mom had the bitchy attitude to go along with her style, I'd probably hate her. I have to give her some credit though. She wasnt like this until after I was born.

She took a long drink, then put her attention back to me. "So have you gotten the money I sent you?"

"Yup. Thanks." She mailed me cash every two weeks or so. It was normally like, four hundred dollars. She paid the bills online, then sent me a ton of cash for grocery money and stuff since she wasnt there. I hardly use it though. I'm pretty sure its pity money.

She shrugged, "I may be busy, but you're still my daughter. Have to support you. Unlike some parents.."

I knew she was talking about dad. I hate it when she does that. The hair fell back in her face again, and she patted it back.

"So what colleges are you thinking of Chels?" she asked, before taking another drink.

This time I shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just a junior. Wasnt gonna worry about that much until next year. But I'm no genius. Probably just some state one or something, if I even go.."

She looked at me confused. "Why wouldn't you go?"

"School isnt that great for me. I don't see a point in learning a lot. I'd rather go off and learn my own thing, then do what everyone else is doing." I shifted in my seat. "I mean, how am I going to do anything for the world, if I'm just like everyone else?"

She smiled, "I thought the same thing as you when I was your age hun. You'll realize that everyone else is doing the same thing because it's right. And in order to do anything for the world, you do what everyone else is doing, but better."

You're about to punch her, right?

Don't blame her. I've learned to solve this with peace.

"Not true. Look at John Lennon? He changed the world, and he didn't do what everyone else did. He fought to stop war. Give peace a chance."

She gave me a look that said 'Good point', and replied, "Yea, but with that, you dont know if you're just going to look stupid and get arrested, or change the world. It's like scratching lottery tickets your whole life, or getting a decent job and earning your money." She took yet another long sip of tea, her straw making funny noises from the absence of liquid at the end. "Besides. Didn't he get himself killed not that long after?"

She waved to our waiter and pointed to her glass. "Yea, but I'd rather die because I changed the world than just trying. And I can't belive you just compared it to scratching lottery tickets.."

Smiling, she said, "Face it Chels, the worlds getting harder and harder to save."

A few drinks later, we finally decided to head home. When we got there, she went straight to her room and went to bed. I went to bed too, but just laid there, staring at the ceiling. It's hard to sleep when mom says stuff like that. I bet thats why dad loved her.