Love Is a Serious Mental Disease

After the longest lecture with Scott, he informed me to call my mother. What he didn't know was that my mother didn't have a phone, nor a car. We always used my mom's friend/neighbor, Sarah's belongings, but only because she insisted.

I didn't want my mother finding out that I got fired just yet so I asked to borrow Scott's phone to dial "my mother's" phone.I left the office momentarily to call Sarah. I explained the situation I was in to her, and I pleaded with her to pretend to be my mother. After much begging and convincing, she hesitantly agreed. "And bring me new clothes to change into."

I felt relieved when a curly haired young lady knocked on the office door. "Ah, Mrs.Elizabeth, nice to finally meet you. Have a seat." She sat beside me in a pillowed wooden chair.

Before Scott could continue, I excuse myself to leave. "Are you sure you don't want to hear what I have to say?" Scott asks.

I gave a slight nod."I'm sure." Sarah hands me her key fob and the clean clothes she had gotten out of my room. "Thank you," I mutter before walking to the car.

I hop into the backseat. I slide my dress off of me and had a moment of silence for the stained wrap dress. Too bad, it was the finest item of clothing I owned. My heels were also part of the uniform. The whole uniform is a Diane von Furstenberg. I don't really know what that is, but I hear girls talking about it in my school, so I'm guessing it's expensive. I haul the dress and heels in the passenger seat.

I get dressed in my tie shoulder tank top and my shredded denim skinny jeans. I instantly feel more relaxed in familiar clothing. I switch to the passenger seat and peer through the rearview mirror. A tiny cut is evident under my lip and the skin under my cheeks looks puffy with an odd mixture of blue and purple bruising it. I grab a rubber band laying in the cup holder. It was dusty so I blew on it and tied it on my platinum blonde ringlets. I decide on a high bun and the rubber band pulls at my hair as it rubs against it. I lightly wince and lay back in my seat, kicking my feet up on the dashboard. I'm still fascinated by the new marks on my face, so I glance at the mirror every once in awhile.

Ugh! Judging by my wristwatch, it's been twenty-two minutes since I've been in the car on my own. As I lightly hum a random tune, bleeted noises sound from Sarah's animal print purse laying in the driver's seat. Two buzzes follow.

It must of been her phone. Just as my hand is reaching for the zipper, I stop mid-air. It's not right to be snooping around in people's stuff. But then again, it could an important missed call. Plus, I will only be trying to find out why Sarah's phone was making those noises.

I put her bag in my lap, and take the phone in hand. It was an IPhone. I always got shrill joy when I was able to hold a cell phone the same way a hormonal teenage boy is in joy when he gets his first Victoria's Secret catalog. I always beg my mother for a phone, but the answer is always the same:

"Scarlett Evelyn Marie Elizabeth. There is no need for a cell phone. It's cause is only to afflict your mind with rubbish and distract you from your studies and housework."

"But mom, what if I get lost and need to contact someone?"

"If you're that concerned we'll buy a child locater device."

I turn the screen on with that button on the left top side of the phone. There was one Facebook notification and two texts. I have seen Sarah get into her phone so many times that I knew the password by now. It was the first four digits of her birthday date. 10, and 13. The screen was already on the texting page. I looked over the name. Someone by the name of Callie Lancaster. There were a few texts sent from her but I only read over the two most recent ones.

The first one: Srry. Ths is a lot 2 take in. Everything's been busy w/ college. I'm in Brooklyn currently. Tell Miranda I hope 2 b visiting some time nxt yr.

Miranda? As in my mother? Who was this Callie girl and what did she have to do with my mother?

Questions begin stirring up as I read the next text. Could u pls snd me the address. Oh and btw, do Scarlett and Noah no bout me yet? I dnt wnt to surprise them 2 much.

My heart begins to pound. Now, I have to find out who she is. Maybe I'll just casually bring her up in a conversation with my mother or Sarah.

I spy Sarah walk out the restraunt. I drop the phone in the bag after turning it off, and I fumble with the jammed zipper. She was nearly at her door when I flung the purse back to its original seat. "Sorry that took too long," Sarah apologized as she straps on her seatbelt. I strap mine on too.

Her face turns serious. "Scar, your mother would not be proud. You have to tell her the truth about what happened, okay?"She looks warily into my eyes.

I sigh. "I know," is all I say.

"I don't know what's been going on in your life but you can tell me anything. Being a teenager is hard, I know. But, life will get better." I couldn't help thinking that she sounded like one of those cheesy inspirational posters my school litters the walls with."I'm always here to help you. You know that right?"

I simply nod. "You can tell me anything,"she repeats. Right now, there's something she hasn't been telling me.

"You're cellphone was buzzing," I say in hopes of changing the subject and to see how she would react. Was she expecting a text from this Callie girl?

"I'll look at it later." Her main focus was the road. I usually rode my bike home. I asked Scott if he'd be willing to let me keep my bike at the restraunt and I would get it tommorrow since it was too big to fit in my "mom's" car. He agreed, so that was taken care of.

My eyes kept drifting towards the bag which was now lying on the floor by Sarah's feet. "Oh, by the way, you might want to put an ice pack on those bruises."

"My mom's going to get suspicious if she sees them though. What should I do?" I bury my face in my hands. There's a twinge of pain when my hands touch the bruises but I don't remove them. Instead, I push on my cheeks even harder, flooding more pain into my face.

"It wouldn't matter if you're going to tell her the truth, right?" She quickly takes her eyes off the road to glance at me.

"I know. I just want to find the right words to say that I got fired without her exploding."

"You could apply my make-up, if you'd like. I have makeup I could give to you. If you want, you could keep it."

The closest thing to makeup that my mother applies is chapstick. She doesn't like it on herself, so I'm sure she doesn't want it on her daughter. Though, I'm sure she wouldn't mind a little makeup now and then.

"Could you put it on me, since I don't know how." I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be embarrassed by that fact. It doesn't bother me though.

"Sure. I'll do it when we get home,"she replies.

The rest of the car ride was quiet. When we finally get out of the car, I stretch and take my high heels off. The mini pebbles poke at my feet and I'm careful not to step on anything that could cut at my feet as I near my apartment building.

I breath in the familiar mysterious stench the apartment corridors have to offer. When I first moved here three years ago, I would have to plug my nose and gag uncontrabbly just walking to my door. Now, as odd as it sounds, the stench grew on me.

After unlocking the door, I kick my heels off and head to the kitchen. The fridge contains a Sprite can, a few scattered water bottles, and Jiff peanut butter. I have no choice but to go into the cupboard and find one of the many varieties of Yuni-ku ramen instant noodle cups. I eat instant noodles about fifteen times per week.

As I'm about to heat up the noodles, Sarah walks in the kitchen. I can't help but notice the sympathetic face she's trying so hard to hide. "Do you want me to take you to the grocery store? I have money that I was going to waste on useless stuff anyway." I hate it when people feel sorry for me. It reminds me of how unfortunate I am.

"You don't have to waste your money. I have a few dollars I earned. Could you just drop me off at the store?" We both knew the money was to pay rent. Maybe I could just buy a few snacks that could fill me up for at least today.

"Are you sure?" Sarah asks worryingly. I nod. "Okay. But I'm staying with you. I'm not gonna drop you off." I willingly agree.

At the supermarket, I buy a bag of potato chips for 50¢, a Kraft mac and cheese box for $3, whole wheat bread for $2.50, Kellogg's Frosted Flakes for $4.50,and a dozen eggs for $2.00.

When I reach home with grocery bags in hand, I find my mother by the kitchen with more groceries. She looks up from her work and smiles at us. "Hey guys."

"Mom, we brought more groceries," I say, slightly lifting up the bags in my grasp.

"That's good. Set them over here." She pats the kitchen counter. I lift them up and set them up on the counter.

As I near her, her eyes widen. She puts her hand to her mouth and gasps. "What happened to your face?"

I freeze. My heartbeat speeds up. I slip my hands in my jean pockets and turn my head to glance at Sarah. She looks as nervous as I do. She nods indicating me to tell my mom the truth.

"Mom, I...I got fired."

"Wait,what? I don't, I don't understand."

"Well..." I drew out a deep breath, "I got in a fight with this girl in the restaurant and my mana--."

"Are you serious?!" her voice raised. "That is no way to behave in a restaurant. To behave ANYWHERE!" She begins to rub her temples. "No. You know what?I'm not going to argue with you right now. Today is a good day. Go to your room and don't come out until I call you." I just stood there. "NOW!"

I descend to my room. My brother, Noah was seated on his side of the oak bed we shared. We used to have two beds until a few months ago when Noah was carelessly jumping on his bed and he broke the wood. Now he either sleeps opposite of me, or in Mom's room.

"Did Mom pick you up from the sleepover?" I ask.

"Yeah." He lays the comic book he was reading down on his bed. "Why was mom screaming?"

"Oh." I plop down beside him. "That, uh...she's mad me because I got fired."

"Why?"

"Because I got in a fight." He looks intrigued. I know I shouldn't be filling his head with rubbish but I don't want him thinking I'm this vulnerable, impotent girl he always views me as. Most of the time, all Noah sees me do is read, write furiously in my notebook, or cry myself to sleep. For once, I want someone to think I am as strong as I feel.

As I finish off my story by fabricating it a little here and there, I see Noah's face harden. "What?"I ask.

"I forgot to tell you that Mom's having someone over. A guy."

So that explains why Mom bought more food than usual. How could she even afford it?

"Doesn't that bother you?" Noah asks uneasily.

"Why should it? It's her life. And it's just a guy. So what? If she ends up dating him, she might just find the happiness she used to."

Noah pouts. "How could you say that?" God, were nine year-olds always this dramatic?

I get off the bed, listening to the bed creak as I do so. I sit down in my rocking chair and examine my room. It was diminutive, but comfortable. The few objects in this room are a rocking chair, a bed, and a small shelf holding my plethora of books. I had left my Free Hearts in a Trapped World book on my shelf before I had left to go grocery shopping, so now I pick it up and continue from the page I was on. Slowly but surely, I am sucked into a fantasy.



Two hours have passed when I hear my mother call me. Just as I'm getting up, she strides into my room. She's classily dressed in a blazer and dress pants.

"I went shopping for clothes. Wear these." She hands me a ruffled blue blouse, coral springs tulip track shorts, and Bellini float sandals. How could Mom afford all this?

"Why do you want me to change?" I inquire.

"We have a guest coming over so be respectful. Don't ask too many questions."

"Who is it? A special guy?" I push.

I swear I saw Mom's face blush. "Enough, Scarlett. We'll talk about your punishment later." She hands Noah his new clothes and walks out the room. She hastily closes the door, making a burning smell from the other room waft into this bedroom. I smile in amusement. Was mom actually trying to cook?

I try on the clothes. "What do you think?" I playfully bat my eyelashes and put my hands on my hips.

Noah jokingly gags. "Ditch the blouse."

"See, I knew it was the blouse." I pull the blouse over my head and get the shoulder tank I originally had on. "You know, I was wondering," I stop to cough,"how did Mom afford all this?"

Noah shrugs. "She must've finally gotten a job."

"The guest is coming! Hurry up guys!" My mother wails. I open the door for my brother and I.

The burning smell is stronger now. It's definitely coming from the kitchen.

Noah plugs his nose. "What is that?"

"Well," Mom sighs, "I tried cooking. But we can eat out tonight, I guess." Her hair's perfectly pinned up and for the first time in years, she's wearing makeup. It was just mascara and lipstick but that's a big upgrade from the cherry chapstick.

"Mom, look at you." I clap. "He must be hot for you to be dressing up so nice."

"Scarlett, behave." She sounds more like she's pleading me to stop instead of scolding me.

A knock at the door gives my mother a little jolt but she regains her tranquility and straightens her back. Mom pats her hair before opening the door.

My mouth moves slightly open and my face pales. For a moment, I'm just standing there, as if time stops. The man behind the door can't be older than twenty-one or twenty-two. I know him too well from the countless visits to his house. He has curly black hair, a slope-like nose, and thin pink lips. The only trait he shares with his brother is the same warm brown puppy-dog eyes.

I can tell he is in shock too. "Scarlett?"

I gulp. "Hello Nick," I raspily say.

My Mom's eyebrows knit together. "Do you guys know each other?"

"Uh...Mom? Your date is my boyfriend's brother."