I didn’t even acknowledge Thomas’s comment. He wasn’t my father. He was just the guy my mom was sleeping with.
“Thomas and I are not putting up with this attitude anymore, young lady. We’re concerned about you.”
I shook my head and stared at the ceiling while my mom continued to lecture me on my behavior that seemed to be so concerning to them.
“Your grades have slipped for two quarters now. You don’t want to participate in school activities—”
“What? That’s not true! I take part in the genealogy club!” My mom rolled her eyes, which pissed me off. “Why do you do that? It makes me so mad!”
“Salem, that club is a waste of time. You should be doing something worthwhile, like the cheer and pep squad, or even choir. You love music and singing,” she suggested.
“Those would be fine if I didn’t hate them!” I yelled.
“All you do is go to school and come home to lock yourself in your room. You’re obviously not studying since your grades are barely above average. This is not Chula Vista anymore, Salem. You’re a senior now, and you need to start thinking about your future. We don’t even see you texting anyone anymore. You should have some friends, sweetheart.”
“Well, I don’t! Happy? I’m not welcome here! I don’t fit in to any of the cliques!”
“It’s probably the way you dress, sweetheart. Why don’t you let Thomas and me take you shopping for some new clothes? Maybe having the right clothes will help you fit in.”
“Do you even hear yourself? I don’t want some stupid rich kids smiling or waving at me because I’m wearing the right logo or carrying the right bag!”
“Salem, maybe you should put forth some effort to be sociable and try to make friends. I hate seeing you spend all your time alone in your room.”
“Mom, I like being alone. I’m fine with that. Besides, I see kids in the genealogy club.”
“But you never mention any of them. We never hear you talking on the phone to anyone. I hardly ever see you texting. Aren’t you concerned that you won’t have a boyfriend to take you to prom?”
I laughed hysterically while I covered my face with my hands.
“Believe it or not, Mom, but I don’t give a damn about prom.”
“Baby, it’s a rite of passage. The parties around here during prom weekend are off the hook. Trust me—you don’t want to miss any of that.” Thomas threw in his two cents worth about the dumbass parties, and again, I managed to ignore his comments.
“What happened to you and Selena? You guys used to be best friends?” Mom asked.
Tears quickly formed in my eyes at the mention of Selena. I’d concentrated on my happiest moments in my genealogy club rather than on my former best friend. We’d simply grown apart after I’d moved.
“You guys used to be such good friends.” My mom continued to push until the tears fell from my eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry.”
“I’m not!” I yelled, as if they couldn’t see the tears running down my face.
“Did you guys have a fight?”
“No! What happened was that we moved away!”
“Baby, there are lots of kids around here. I’ll talk to some people at work, and I’ll get you in with the best crowd,” Thomas promised.
“No! Oh my God! Don’t you guys understand that I don’t want money or power or clout to influence anything for me?”
“Salem, we’re very worried about you. We want you to talk to a therapist,” she reiterated.
We had now come full circle to the fucked-up topic that started this whole argument. I wasn’t talking to some dipshit therapist.
“I’m not doing that! Mom, that’s a waste of money because there’s nothing wrong with me! If you’re looking for a way to make me more of an outcast, having a therapist will do it.”
“Salem, that’s not true. I bet most of the kids who go to your school have their own therapist,” Thomas said. “Think of them as non-judgmental sounding boards.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve never seen other kids at the school with streaks of purple hair color,” Mom mocked my choice of expressing myself.
