Hollywood Hills and Suburban Thrills

It was the beginning of July and my friend Kayla and I were walking around Chicago. It was a typical summer day in the Windy City; partly cloudy skies, a light breeze, and eighty degree weather. My friend and I had been putting around town on foot for the better part of the day. Nothing but an iPod and each other; we tried to do this daily as a way to always have time for each other. A tradition of sorts.

"Danielle, Earth to Danielle," She says, waving a hand in front of my face and ripping me from my thoughts. I do that a lot—doze off and start day dreaming. Usually about nothing, but when I do stray away in my own head, I tend to stop focusing on the real world all together, including anything that is going on at the particular moment.

"Don't call me that," I murmur, looking down at the sidewalk that was passing beneath my feet. Something about the name 'Danielle' made my stomach wrench. I was not very fond of the name, for some reason.

"Well, my apologies, your Crabbiness, but you didn't answer my question," She retorts with an air of nobility.

"I didn't even hear you ask anything," I say, trying to recall what she had asked, but coming up with nothing. I must've been out of it for longer than it had seemed.

"I asked if you were going to Warped Tour this summer," She looked at me, the wind blowing her auburn hair in her face. She didn't even make to move it away from her eyes; there was no use if it was just going to be blown back in a matter of seconds.

"I doubt it; my mom would never let me go," I say sadly. I had wanted to go to Warped Tour for the last three years. I had gone once with my dad before my parents got divorced, but I hadn't spoken to my father in months, if not at least a year. Not that he could have a say in anything anyway; my mother was way too over-protective of me.

"Don't you think that's a little ridiculous?" Kayla asked. We were waiting for the cross-walk to switch from the blinking red hand to the little white walking man. I looked at her. "I mean, you pay for you first year of college, your car, and your cell phone, but your mom won't let you go to Warped?"

She had a point. I had practically been on my own ever since I graduated from high school. With the help of many scholarships, I was able to get through my first year of college with some money to spare. But with gas prices kicking my ass, I had to move back in with my mom for the summer because I couldn't afford the rent for the entire summer by myself.

"Yeah. She's unreasonable sometimes," I sigh, taking a step forward as the cross-walk sign switched and the traffic surged forward parallel to us.

"Sometimes?" Kayla mumbled in sarcastic surprise. I nudged her and we both laughed, continuing forward as the music flowed through the white ear buds we were sharing and into our heads as silence fell between us.

My mind started racing with thoughts of what I would be doing for the rest of the summer. Chances are it wouldn't be like usual summers; staying up late with friends, sleeping in until noon on weekdays, doing whatever I wanted when I wanted. My stomach clenched at the thought of my mother putting me to work. She owned a diner in downtown Chicago called the Hollywood Grill. It was a popular place which only meant she would make me work there. God knows they need as much help as they could get with the up-coming Warped goers.

"Are you going to Warped?" I decided to ask after a while of nothing said. Kayla looked up in surprise.

"Probably," She replies without taking her eyes off the sidewalk. "I was going to when it came here."

"Lucky," I sigh, kicking a rock and watching it go tumbling down the path ahead of us.
"Have you tried convincing your mom?" Kayla asks.

"Not really," I confess, flipping my dark bangs out of my eyes as the wind whipped them around my face.

"Maybe you should," She suggests with a shrug.

I sighed. "But she'll probably grow fangs and claws and scorch me with her fire breath."
Kayla rolled her eyes. "She's not that bad and you know it," I scoffed. "Well she doesn't seem to be whenever I'm around."

"That's because it's an act she puts on," I say and Kayla laughed. We were approaching my block now.

"Well, ask anyway," Kayla stopped walking as I did and looked at me. "What do you have to lose?"

I sighed. "Fine. I'll call you later,"

She nodded and started on her way to her house which was on the next street over as I started down my street. My house was the third one down the block and as I walked up the front steps, I noticed my mom was home.

Fantastic, I thought dryly as I grabbed the doorknob and walked into the foyer. Maybe with luck she won't notice I'm home until I'm asleep.

I tried to sneak to the stairs to get to my room without detection but the moment my foot contacted the first step, my mom's shrill voice rang from the living room. "Dani, come in here!" she said.

I groaned. So close. I thought as I turned and headed towards the room from which my mom's voice had come. She was sitting on the couch, her legs crossed formally and her face set as trying to seem pleasant. "Hey, sweetie," She says, her voice cloy and very high pitched.

I flinched at the sudden outburst. "Hi," I say in a low tone, staying put in the archway between the foyer and the living room. She swung her feet off the coffee table and onto the floor, patting the cushion on the couch beside her, signaling she wanted me to sit down. I inwardly cringed, not wanting to go any closer to her than I already was, but obeyed anyway to avoid argument.

"How was your day, sweetie," She asks at a lower volume as I sank into the couch beside her, making sure that there was space between us. I guess you could say that I wasn't very close to my mother. Not at all, actually.

"It was alright," I reply in a level voice. I didn't want to expose any emotion, to let her have any idea of how my day really was, because she usually had one of two effects if I did; if I had a good day, she'll make it seem bad, and if I had a bad day, she'll make it seem worse. It was how she functioned, whether she meant to or not.

"How's Kayla? She hasn't been over in a while," Her electric blue eyes were glued to me, making my insides squirm. I crossed my legs and folded my arms across my chest—nervous habit—and kept my eyes on my flip flops.

"She's good," I answer, but apparently it wasn't a good enough answer because my mother countered with a throat clearing and she slid towards me on the couch, causing me to retreat farther into the arm of the couch that was already jutting into my side painfully. "She says she wants to go to Warped Tour." I added on a whim but as soon as the words had left my mouth, I regretted it.

My mother sighed, irritation as obvious as the clear blue sky, and gave me a cross look. I tried to keep my face straight, but I felt that my eyes weren't as emotionless as I would've wanted, because then my mom said, "I don't think that's a great idea for her."

I resisted the urge to get up and walk out of the room. She was always doing that; so quick to judge my friends by the simplest and most unimportant of traits. Clothing, music, even their other friends. It was something that I tried to ignore, but each time she did it, it made me disdain her more and more.

"Well you can tell her that because honestly, I think it's fine," I say monotonously, shrugging one shoulder, knowing I had probably just walked into the lion's den.

"It is not fine," She squeaks, her eyes piercing mine when I looked at her suddenly. "You have no idea what goes on at those tours. Those rock stars and their inability for experience any sort of emotion. It's vulgar, that's what it is."

I looked at her, my upper lip curling slightly. Another habit, although involuntary, that happened when I was furious.

"Mom, do you even know what you're talking about?" I sneer condescendingly. My mom's face went from one of pure disgust to one that looked like she had been slapped.
"Yes, I do Danielle," she says and my temper rose at the name, "I've had my share of rock stars."

That did it. Here she was, lying to me again to "protect me". I was done with it and I let it show by standing up and turning toward the stairs, mumbling under my breath. "I really doubt that," I say.

"What was that, young lady?" she asks, now putting on the responsible adult voice.
I froze, turning on my heel to face her and lacing my hands beside my face and fluttering my eyes innocently. "Nothing, Mother." I say in a girly voice before letting my hands drop to my sides ungracefully and rolling my eyes plainly. With that, I turned and flew up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me and landing on my bed hard.

I honestly didn't have a reason behind my negative feelings for my mother. She had those days that she was actually a good parent; loving, caring, truthful, and there for me. But those moments only came around when the stars were in the right position, and this clearly wasn't one such day.

My room darkened as the sun disappeared behind a cloud and I allowed my eyes to drift to my window which faced our backyard. There wasn't much back there other than my golden retriever puppy Jude who was scurrying about the lawn after the leaves that were blowing about. I smiled in spite of my bad mood and returned to staring at the ceiling. It was only a little after six but since I was in no way interested in facing my mother again, I fell asleep about an hour later without supper to the sound of the wind whipping against the house.