I had, perhaps, a bit of pep in my step when I walked through the front door of my house.
"First day that good?"
"My, my aren't we perceptive?"
"Well, when your daughter is such a complete trouble maker you kind of have to be. Honestly, Nicole, stop causing so much mischief. You've been there one day and your principal called me up saying he's going to kick your ass right back to the big city."
"How many hours into the day?" I replied, wagging my eyebrows.
"Three or four. What do you expect I have my eyes on the clock constantly?"
"Oh, well, that's so many hours in! I should try harder for tomorrow. Whatever shall I do? I know! I could flash the entire football team. I could slash the tires of a really stuck up girl's car. There's this asshole named Champ Hardy…Mom! I could, I don't know, throw him in the outhouse and lock him in? Maybe see if I could tip it while he's 's where he belongs."
"There's my girl. Just don't get caught—won't look so great on your application to university or to the Police Academy. Nicole Haught: Life skills – stuffing assholes into toilets, slashing tires, public indecency."
"Well, I'd hire me. I sound like a gem."
"You're a gem to me."
"Ugh. Mother. Get a hold of yourself. Get a life. You need a hobby...I know, try knitting! I hear knitting needles can be valuable weapons if you need them. We could get attacked by Big Foot out here after all. Or the Sasquatch! It's dangerous out there in the wilds."
I wink at her as I put my bag down on the stool that's pushed up against the island.
"What the hell am I going to do with knitting needles against Big Foot?"
"Throw them at its eye. How is your aim?"
I smile at her, because I already know the answer. My mother could not hit the broad side of a barn with a wrecking ball.
"Make sure it's a nice funeral service, honey."
"For sure. I'll get you one of those pine boxes and then cremate you myself. It will cost me $10 and I'll use the insurance money to go to strip clubs and casinos in Vegas."
"I'd expect absolutely nothing less. Now, tell me about your first day? Do you have tons of homework? Meet anyone cool? Make any teachers want to throw you through the school windows? If so, I'll just dye my hair and pretend I adopted you at parent/teacher conferences."
"My first day was fine. I only have homework from my English class because that teacher is insane. She was wearing a bandana. Around her head. Like a biker. If the devil has disguised him or herself in Purgatory I am certain it is the form of my Advanced Placement English teacher."
I could not help the half smile that was creeping across my face as I thought about that English class. Obviously not because of Martin the Martian, but because of the girl I was fortunate enough to be seated next to and the gorgeous smile she tossed my way on more then one occasion during the course of that class and the two others I was fortunate enough to have with her.
"If she's so demonic, daughter, why are you smiling like an idiot? Did you meet your future husband? Does he come from money?! Honey, please tell me he comes from money so you can set me up for the life I so deserve."
My smile faded a bit. I know I need to tell my mother. I also know that she will never love me any less. For some reason, though, I am worried. She has been through so much already in her life. What if having a gay daughter isn't her ideal situation? Would I be placing one more hardship upon her shoulders? It's the question that always tugs at me when I consider telling her. I've opted to tell her when I finally have a good reason, like someone to tell her about. I always convince myself it is so I don't worry her too soon. Or I don't get questions like, "Are you sure?" "How can you know?" The truth is, though, I know she'd never ask these questions regardless. I know she'll love me for who I am. The idea I can't shake is that it might make her life harder. Sometimes having a lesbian kid is harder than being the lesbian kid. While people in my generation can be cruel and intolerant of such things—people in her generation can be far worse. While I know she'll defend me to the end of the world if it came down to it, I cannot fathom her having to do so, even if it will be a reality eventually. Hiding such a big part of me from my mother, however, is something I cannot do forever. I contemplate telling her about the smile that lit up my day—that made me think this move wouldn't be so bad and perhaps my year is looking better than the last three had. That would be preposterous, though, wouldn't it? Basing all my happiness on a girl just because she was nice to me and smiled at me (no matter how that smile made me squirm). I push down the urge to tell my mother, it's far too soon. I'll stick to the plan. I'll tell her when I have a good reason.
"Sadly, mother, you'll have to live in squalor for a while longer. I have not yet procured our Sugar Daddy."
"Well, damn, I thought I trained you better. My failed protégée. We'll need to work harder. Clearly you're not smooth enough yet. Lessons to begin again at once!"
She declared this with a grin upon her face. I couldn't help but recall how my confidence and swagger failed me today with Waverly. Perhaps I did need those lessons. I toss an over exaggerated exasperated sigh at my mother.
"Fineeeeeeee.. I'm all yours after I finish this paper for SheDevil."
"What could you possibly have to write about after one lesson?"
"About who I am as a person and as a learner."
I shrug and toss my mother a completely flummoxed look.
"Maybe you can write that you only learn if you're allowed to play with toys like in preschool. Tell her you can only memorize poetry whilst yo-yoing. I am sure she'll take you very seriously as a scholar."
"Well, I am definitely not a serious scholar, mother. You saw my last report card. I am an utter failure of a human being. If only you hadn't dropped me so often as a baby."
"All those Cs! Nicole. You can do better. The only good C to have is a C-cup."
"There was one C. The rest were As. I'm a freaking genius."
"Yes, but the C was in a women's studies elective, Nicole. You're a woman. It shouldn't be that hard."
"Well…that class wasn't exactly what I thought it would be about…Plus, I am a girl not yet a woman."
"Okay, Britney. Simmer down. Now, let us get down to the nitty-gritty here. Since you've failed to hook a Sugar Daddy to make all our dreams come true, at least tell me you made a friend? Although, who could put up with you? I honestly do not know."
I gently punch her shoulder and she smiles at me. I love moments like this with my mother.
"Well, there was a girl who threw her books violently against her locker and I thought to myself, 'Damn, that's the friend for me!' so I went over and helped her pick them up. Woah Nelly was she aggressive. It's like those books personally offended her. Turns out she's in three of my classes, because she's smarter than Einstein, so she's in all the AP classes. I made a great connection, someone I can cheat off of to maintain those impossibly high grades you expect from me."
"I am maybe rethinking the idea that all my hard work and training was lost on you. Good job, giraffe."
It's as if Waverly knew that she was being spoken about because just as my mother and I finished discussing her my phone pinged with a message from her.
"Guess who?"
"The Schwann's Man? I sure hope so. I really want some cookie dough; to bake cookies, of course, not to eat the dough. Salmonella is bad."
"Absolutely the Schwann's Man. I'll see about getting you that cookie dough, Salmonella Sally."
"Waverly, it's really rude to forget someone's name mere hours after meeting them."
"How did you know it was me?"
"You gave me your number, nerd."
"Oh! Right. That…makes sense. That makes a lot of sense. For some reason I remember asking for your number but not trading numbers. But of course I would trade numbers so you would know it was me when I texted instead of being confused…like you probably are trying to follow this word vomit."
"I think I can keep up with you and your word vomit, Waverly Earp. (;"
"….cole. Nicole. Snap out of it!"
"Wha-what? Oh! Sorry. Were you saying something?"
"Only that I am planning on becoming a stripper for some extra cash. No big deal."
"Sounds good. Should make birthday shopping for you quite easy this year. A nice sparkly g-string should do the trick."
" Daughter. You know me so well! How do you know my underwear preference? Have you been snooping through the top drawer again?"
I must have taken too long to respond, wrapped up in the thought of Waverly's musical voice and how I was looking forward to school in the morning.
"Well, since you're off in LaLaLand, mind telling me what you want for dinner so I can get to it?"
"Pizza."
"Dodged a bullet there, I thought you were going to make me cook. I was very worried about it."
"Oh, never after the last time. You almost set the house on fire."
"Correction, the oven almost set the house on fire. I had nothing to do with that evil robot appliance's plans for world domination through arson. I'll go order the pizza."
With that my mother left the kitchen, leaving me to check my phone again which, thankfully, already had a reply from Waverly.
"I am not too worried about it. You seem smart enough. Anyways, any interest in proof reading my paper for Martin? I'll return the favour."
"Proof reading? As in you've already finished it? Are you a machine?"
"Yes, yes I am. I am a lean-mean writing machine. I wrote it during those "get to know you games" in History. I mean, I already know all our classmates, I don't really need games to learn more about them."
"You don't know me."
"I listened to yours, but all you said was 'Hi, I'm Nicole. I like scarves, couches, pretty smiles, sandwiches without the crusts, and wet t-shirt competitions."
"I thought it was a very deep and thorough assessment of my character."
"You could have gotten detention on your first day!"
"Right. You obviously didn't catch that Boreman (fitting name, by the way) was asleep. I could have said anything. Your concern for my detention status is endearing, though."
"Time to stop texting me and work on your paper, I need something to proofread. Tomorrow after school work for you? We could maybe go to your house?"
"Already inviting yourself to my house, Waverly Earp? Don't you think you're moving a little fast?"
After several minutes without a reply from Waverly I was beginning to worry I had come on too strong. I was joking, after all, but I guess it could be seen in another manner. A slight panic set in and I shot Waverly another message.
"I'm kidding! Of course, I can drive you over from school if that works for you?"
"Sounds perfect, goodnight Haughtstuff."
Never have I enjoyed my name being used in some ridiculous pun more. When my Mom walked back into the kitchen I had a full-blown idiotic dimpled grin plastered on my face.
"Good, Nicole, good. Show those dimples. I worked really hard chiseling those out. 8 months of work went just into those dimples. Appreciate them and use them to vanquish your enemies."
"Well, I did just use them to convince the aforementioned very smart girl to proof read a paper I've not even written yet. So, guess I'd better hop to it. Holler when the pizza arrives?"
"Like a Mandrake Root."
"I'd like to live to see my graduation so maybe you could tone it down?"
"You drive a hard bargain."
She ruffles my hair, like she always does, and leaves to go watch some television in the living room. There's no denying it, my first day in Purgatory was a great one. Tomorrow will probably be even better.