Status: This is nothing really. Don't get too attached. I'm not even sure what it will be.
La La Lie
Ugly duckling
“Mom, please. You can’t make me go back there!”
My mother yanked our front door open as I followed closely and after I shut the door behind us, she exhaled loudly.
“Ra—“
“Mom, it was all Max. I swear!”
All Max, my butt! Race honey, after all you put that poor woman through—“
“Poor woman? Mom, she chased me with a broom!”
“Horace Tate, that’s enough! You were spying on her dancers; you consider yourself lucky—“
“You can’t be serious, Mo—“
“I’m not bailing you out this time! I’ve agreed for you to help around that studio and you are doing just that!” She strode to the kitchen and I screeched in frustration.
“Fucking hell!”
She peeked back in, “…and now you’re grounded. Go to your room.”
I huffed loudly and flew up the stair and upon entering my room; I collapsed on my unmade bed.
“Stupid lady…stupid Max, stupid mom, stupid dancers, stupid…” I grumbled.
Suddenly, I shot up from my spot on the mattress and sat upright as I thought of the shitty haircut girl. Yeah, she was hard to look at with her annoying cherub face and poorly layered hair, but her reactions were the best. I guess the way she scrunched up her cute nose wasn’t that bad either…
Quit it, Race! She’s younger than you. Max would tease you for centuries for liking a younger girl. It was all about the older girls. There was no denying she was fun to annoy, though.
“RT, dinner’s ready!” My mom yelled.
Maybe the next three weeks of helping around that studio wouldn’t be as bad as originally anticipated. After all, she was the daughter of the owner of that place so she definitely had a reason to come around often.
When I went in the first three days, it had just been me and the grouch. I had figured out she never went a day without reeking of a type of intoxicating flower and that she swept everything, meaning I too, swept everything. A vacuum was a foreign device for her.
The first day I walked into those glass doors and didn’t see the girl anywhere, my mood turned bitter. This actually went on for the next two weeks, until my 18th day there. If I thought her hair was ugly, I had no idea what I thought of her dressing. She stumbled into the studio with knee socks covered in dirt stains, large jean shorts that bunched at the waist, and some hideous plaid collared shirt. I was regretting getting hung up on such an ugly duckling.
“Miriam, go get changed! Madame’s already waiting.” Ah, Miriam.
“Mama…” She huffed. She lifted her eyes and spotted me. I watched as her lips form a grim line.
“What’d you do, roll in the dirt?” I gesture to her clothes and she scoffed, left for a few seconds but poked back in.
“What’d you do, get hit with the ugly stick?” I felt a heat rush to my cheeks as my anger rose. I lunged at her threateningly, trying to scare her.
“Boy!” The grouch warned and I retreated. The last thing I saw of her that day was her sticking her tongue out at me as her button nose scrunched up teasingly. I resumed sweeping and wondered why I was smirking like a doofus.
My mother yanked our front door open as I followed closely and after I shut the door behind us, she exhaled loudly.
“Ra—“
“Mom, it was all Max. I swear!”
All Max, my butt! Race honey, after all you put that poor woman through—“
“Poor woman? Mom, she chased me with a broom!”
“Horace Tate, that’s enough! You were spying on her dancers; you consider yourself lucky—“
“You can’t be serious, Mo—“
“I’m not bailing you out this time! I’ve agreed for you to help around that studio and you are doing just that!” She strode to the kitchen and I screeched in frustration.
“Fucking hell!”
She peeked back in, “…and now you’re grounded. Go to your room.”
I huffed loudly and flew up the stair and upon entering my room; I collapsed on my unmade bed.
“Stupid lady…stupid Max, stupid mom, stupid dancers, stupid…” I grumbled.
Suddenly, I shot up from my spot on the mattress and sat upright as I thought of the shitty haircut girl. Yeah, she was hard to look at with her annoying cherub face and poorly layered hair, but her reactions were the best. I guess the way she scrunched up her cute nose wasn’t that bad either…
Quit it, Race! She’s younger than you. Max would tease you for centuries for liking a younger girl. It was all about the older girls. There was no denying she was fun to annoy, though.
“RT, dinner’s ready!” My mom yelled.
Maybe the next three weeks of helping around that studio wouldn’t be as bad as originally anticipated. After all, she was the daughter of the owner of that place so she definitely had a reason to come around often.
When I went in the first three days, it had just been me and the grouch. I had figured out she never went a day without reeking of a type of intoxicating flower and that she swept everything, meaning I too, swept everything. A vacuum was a foreign device for her.
The first day I walked into those glass doors and didn’t see the girl anywhere, my mood turned bitter. This actually went on for the next two weeks, until my 18th day there. If I thought her hair was ugly, I had no idea what I thought of her dressing. She stumbled into the studio with knee socks covered in dirt stains, large jean shorts that bunched at the waist, and some hideous plaid collared shirt. I was regretting getting hung up on such an ugly duckling.
“Miriam, go get changed! Madame’s already waiting.” Ah, Miriam.
“Mama…” She huffed. She lifted her eyes and spotted me. I watched as her lips form a grim line.
“What’d you do, roll in the dirt?” I gesture to her clothes and she scoffed, left for a few seconds but poked back in.
“What’d you do, get hit with the ugly stick?” I felt a heat rush to my cheeks as my anger rose. I lunged at her threateningly, trying to scare her.
“Boy!” The grouch warned and I retreated. The last thing I saw of her that day was her sticking her tongue out at me as her button nose scrunched up teasingly. I resumed sweeping and wondered why I was smirking like a doofus.
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