“Not really, I told her I was gonna stay over here,” she says. “She’s mad about you though.”
I nod and get my stuff together quickly.
“She’ll be here in like five minutes,” she says, straightening the couch.
“Yeah, I’m just gonna go. I’ll get the bus,” I say, throwing my jacket over my arm. “Call you later.” I wipe the sleep off my face and run out the door before Desiree can protest.
The bus pulls up just as I make it to the stop. I blend in withthe other students on their way to school. The driver calls out the next stop, which is mine, and I hesitate to ring the bell. It’s weird to get off where I should get on, and I wonder for a second if everyone on the bus knows I stayed out all night. I could just keep going to school, but I’d actually rather my mom yell at me in the house.
The hallway seems a lot longer than usual as I walk down it toward my apartment, and I imagine myself already inside. When I open the door, the chain stops it so aggressively that it yanks my keys from my hand. I look around to see if it was loud enough for my nosy neighbor to come out. I’m not in the mood to explain anything.
“Phone. Now,” my mother demands through the crack in the doorway.
“Seriously, Mom?” I hear a door open down the hall. “Can I come in first?”
She hears it too and lets me slip through. “Phone,” she says again before I can make a dash for my room.
I hesitate, mentally running through the last messages I can remember, then drop it in her hand. “So that’s it?” I ask.
“Not a chance.” She gestures toward the kitchen table. “Go sit.”
My mom being home on a Tuesday morning is enough for me to know she’s serious about whatever she’s going to say. She works all the time, spending most nights at the local hospital and most days at a nursing home in the next town.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say as she throws my phone in her work bag and takes the seat across from me.
“Aren’t you tired, Jasmine?” she asks, putting both hands firmly on the table in front of her.
“Of what?”
“Oh, of what? How about these conversations?”
“I don’t ask to have them,” I say.
“I can’t believe you’re this ungrateful,” she says.
“I’m not.”
“That’s not what your behavior suggests, Jasmine. You scared me!”
“You weren’t even home,” I say. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“Yeah, because I was at work, making sure you have a home to disrespect,” she says.
“I really didn’t think it would be a big deal.”
“Then why was your phone off? Why not just tell me?”
I don’t have anything to say that won’t sound stupid, so I say nothing. Sometimes I think she’s ashamed she had to give up her dreams to take care of me and is trying to make sure I don’t enjoy my life, either. It’s not my fault she and my dad had me young. And like, how can she be this strict when she’s never around? I almost want to scream it at her so she knows I think it’s stupid. But I’ve learned my lesson about trying to be honest. The older I get, the more rules pop up. At this point, if I’m going to get in trouble anyway, I’d rather make it worth it.
“You know what, Jasmine? Fine,” she says, taking a deep breath. “You don’t want to be treated like a child but then you won’t stop acting like one. So FINE.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“It’s time for me to…” Her phone pings on the counter. She pushes herself from the table and sighs at whatever is on the screen. “Shoot,” she says as she turns to me. “I have to get to work. We’ll continue this later. You are not to leave this house.”
“Mom, what?! But what about school?” I watch her pack her things into the bag my phone is in.
“So, you care about school now? It’s fine, I’ve already contacted them.”
