When I was younger, I remembered how much I hated the rain. How much I hated the way it soaked me from top to bottom, the way it made my hair stick up after it dried, the way it felt somewhat disgusting on my skin.
It had especially made it harder to be outside.
Not to mention I was one who loved to be outside. Anything to get away from my family, despite the fact they never wanted to be near me anyways. Who could blame them anyways?
I licked the roof of my mouth, suddenly dry at the feeling of the humid weather being stolen from me and replaced with what seemed like snow-storm weather.
"Mom," I grumbled through gritted teeth, "Can we stop? I have to go to the bathroom."
She was peeved before, but judging by the smile that was now spreading across her face, she had gotten over it. And she knew I had gotten over it too.
"Now you're talking to me, huh?" She smirked.
"Yeah." I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms; watching the rain fall violently on the window.
We didn't talk for a moment; I was still trying to think of another way to say sorry. But I still felt betrayed and I felt as if it were her fault.
"We'll be at a stop in a minute. Can you hold it?" She finally broke the tension, watching me twirl my thin, fine brunette hair through my fingers through the rearview mirror.
I had made it painfully obvious before I hadn't wanted to talk to her.
"Yeah." I said in the same tone I had said it before, moving my eyes towards the small booklet on the ground with scribbles all over it.
She noticed, and sighed, "You're gonna love this place, honey. I swear."
I didn't answer this time, tucking my unusually long hair behind my ear and stared at the cover with angry, pained eyes.
OCD.
Octavian Country
OCD?
I burrowed my eyebrows in confusion like I had done before; when my mom smiled nervously as she gabbed with the Principal.
"OCD," I grumbled, "And isn't the public school near them ADD?" I snickered- but as the Principal shown no amusement or discomfort, she nodded slowly, "Yes, ADD is the public school in Westchester."
I shifted in my seat, "Mom, I really gotta go." I winced and shook in my skinny jeans that practically cut off the circulation in my hips.
"I can only drive so fast in the rain, Hero." She said, her hands gripping on the wheel with her slightly dirty fingernails.
I hated my name. I hated it with a passion.
Hero.
Let's just say, my father had been reading a little too much Shakespeare.
And I couldn't even switch it around and say my name was something else. Like, if someone was named something like Angelica, you could call them Angie or Angela.
Hero. Um, no.
Heronia? Too weird.
Hera? Too Greek.
Helga?
Let's just say, when I pictured Helga, I pictured some 500 lb woman with braids in her hair and a unibrow.
And when you looked at her, you didn't even think she was a woman.
I don't even mean to brag at all, but I looked far from that description. For one, I was rail thin. Which, in someone's case, would be okay but the fact that people ask me if I have some eating disorder, or if I'm 9 years old, it just doesn't seem so great?
I have no, uh, how do I put this...Boobs?
I swear, I just wish my mom would let me get surgery or SOMETHING.
But I really wouldn't know what to do with them, honestly. Boys made my knees quake and my stomach drop. I was a babbling baboon with a flat chest when it came to boys.
I had great teeth, probably the best thing I thought I had. That, and my thin eyebrows, which my mom tells me girls get ripped off to look like mine.
Yeah mom. That still doesn't help my chest situation.
I wrapped my arms around my thin stomach and let out a heavy sigh, watching my mom seethe silently and turn up the radio to blast whatever random talk radio she liked.
I turned towards the rest of the open-three seats in the back and let my legs spread across it.
Needless to say, it was just me and my mom.
My dad had died a couple of years ago; I had been 9 at the time so I took it pretty hard. And my mom had too. Sad, but it didn't change the fact that she would act like it never happened and expect me to do the same.
But I did. Or at least, I tried.
"How do you know I'll like it?" I said softly, and I had to repeat it over the radio. It came out a little harsh and rude, but my mother didn't seem too phased.
"Well, you adapt. And I am jealous of that one, for sure." She chuckled to herself, ignoring the fact I was boiling.
"Adapting?"
"Like
blending in easily."
"Like invisible?" I said angrily.
"Hero Juliet Heights, I never said that!" She scolded.
I told you. Shakespeare addict.
"I was doing fine before." I mumbled.
"Honey,"
She said, although it felt like she was just trying to calm herself
down, "I guarantee this will be better than Woods, okay?"
"Nothing
was better than Woods." I said stubbornly.
"That's it!" She yelled as she pulled into the space at the rest stop, "Get out of the car. Now. Go take your damn break and come back when you have a better attitude." She hollered, but I knew she was holding back, her hands trembling as she brought her cigarette took her lips.
I was furious. I couldn't let her win.
"Fine! Don't expect me back unless you say we're not leaving!" I screamed back, watching as she chuckled- but not in a happy or humored way- and lit her cigarette; inhaling violently.
I jerked open the door, listening as it cracked as it swung open. I kicked my way out, the fresh scent of rain greeting me and soothing me.
"Close the door!" My mom said; although I knew she was yelling so her voice could be heard. Not because she was still angry.
I slammed it and let the rain pour even harder down on me; letting it soak my Dark Side of the Moon shirt.
I wandered aimlessly into the bathroom, letting out a small smile as it was empty; hugging my body and leaning against the wall until I dropped to my bottom.
I didn't want to go to stupid OCD with a bunch of stuck-up pre-teens with their own Visa's and maids and celebrity parents.
I don't even know how my mom was affording all of this. It was unbelievable.
I managed to muster up to courage to go back to the car and apologize to my mother. It was hard being her.
I opened the door and took a seat next to her, almost appalled as she wrapped a towel around my drenched body.
"I didn't want you to freeze to death," She offered me a smile, and I gave her one back.
"You're going to do fine, sweetie," She cooed and started the car and drove off.
Goodbye California, Hello Westchester.