Okay, as this says, this is a Duckie/OC fic. I don't think it'll be overly long. I'm looking at about 10 chapters before ending it. But it might be more. You never know.
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"Margaret Claire Myre, I have had enough!" My mom screams at me. She always uses my given name when she's upset with me. And her voice gets that strain in it, like she's on the verge of tears but won't let them fall; it breaks my heart to her that in her usually bright voice.
"Mom." I try to pacify her. She pushes away my hands, "Mom."
"No, Maggie! You aren't talking your way out of this." She says throwing her hands up and down, just to do something with them.
"Mom, I don't even know what I did." I sigh. She makes this tragic little sound, "What then?"
"Oh you know very well what." She says, giving me the look. I get irritated.
"What?"
"Do I have to say it?"
"Yeah, I think you do." I spit, giving in to anger from my mom's withering gaze.
"Scott." She just says to me. Now I roll my eyes, "Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady."
"What about Scott?" I demand.
"Your sister told me he stayed the night when I was away last week." She dropped the bomb. I purse my lips, trying not to give anything away. But I know I'm caught.
"Nothing happened-"
"Oh Maggie."
"Mom!" I say, "Nothing happened." My voice is desperate, because it's the truth. How do I tell her I'd never do anything with that scumwad? How do I explain my reasons for being with someone I hate?
"Regardless." Mom hasn't picked up on my sincerity, "I've had enough of your disrespect. It's time you learn to listen." And then something comes over her face as she thinks of something.
"Respect?" Where did that come from? But she wasn't listening to me, "Mom?"
"You're going away this year." She says more to herself, still sketching it out apparently.
"You're kicking me out?" I cry as she rushes to the phone, but she ignores me again as she punches in a number, "Mom?" I whine.
"Hello? Iona! This is your sister." She pauses and smiles, "So I guess I'll just come out and say it. Will you take Maggie for her senior year?"
"This isn't happening." I say as I pack my suitcases. I turn to look in the mirror. I tug at my short, dark brown hair, which is a bob at it's best, "This isn't happening." I repeat to my reflection. But then my small, pixie face breaks and my eyes, the same shade of brown as my hair, squeeze shut, "Ohhh. This is happening."
I really don't know why my mom wanted to send me off to Chicago to live my senior year of high school with my Aunt. Because, honestly, my Aunt Iona is insane; she wasn't going to be a role model for me, and this certainly wouldn't be a punishment. I don't know what my mom was getting at here. Maybe she just ed wanted to get me away from the volatile nature of a small, cliquey town; and Scott. As if I'd miss him; we broke up over the phone as soon as the plans were finalized.
Or maybe she knew something I didn't.
"Maggie, get your ass down here before I beat you." She yells up to me from the bottom of the stairs. Then again, maybe not.
Whatever her reason, I was going to the airport today. I would be in Chicago by nightfall. And Aunt Iona swore I'd be starting my new school tomorrow morning, working shifts at her store whenever not in school.
I didn't have time to think about how I felt. I'd just have to adapt. And hope that I liked my new home.
