No Flaws When You're Pretending

"Lauren?" I heard my mom call. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," I called back. I heard movement as my mom came towards the front entrance.

"Where have you been?" she asked. "I've been worried si--"

My mom stopped talking, and moving, as soon as she saw me. I couldn't help but notice how her eyes grew wide as she took in what I was wearing.

"Where did you get those clothes?" she asked, finally looking at my face.

"From a friend," I said.

"Oh?" she said. "What friend?"

"Brendon," I said.

"Who?" she said.

"Brendon," I repeated. "I just met him the other day."

"Oh," she said. Her eyes looked at my outfit again and I could see her cringing inwardly. "I'd like you to change your clothes, Lauren. These aren't the clothes that a young lady should be wearing."

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said. "But I'm not changing my clothes. I should be able to decide what I want to wear."

"This is how you want to dress?" my Mom asked. "Like some punk gang member."

I almost laughed. I bit my lip to hold it in, and just nodded. My mom narrowed her eyes at me before turning away quickly, obviously not happy with me. But I was completely happy. I was happy to not be a complete image of 'perfection' to my mother now.