Lacie.
Part One.
Dinner.
I hastily followed Amanda to her side of the room. I wanted to know what she thought about my room, what she's going to do with her side of the room. I can't help it, nosy it a pet peeve of mine. With one extravagant flip of her hair, she looked back at me.
"I'm totally loving your white look, so I'm going to have white and splashes of pink." She went on to describe what exactly would be pink, and what shade each pink would be, and how much it would cost.
"But I shouldn't worry," she smirked at me. "Daddy's got plenty money."
I was taken aback by her blatantly calling my father daddy. Yes, I was very understanding about my father's decisions and what exactly he wanted to do but I'm not going to let this girl use him for his money.
"Well, actually, Amanda--"
"Dinner's ready, girls!" Sharlene's shrill voice echoed throughout the house. I looked at the small intercom by my desk and sighed. Will she ever use it? As I started to leave, I snuck another peek at Amanda. She was staring back at me expectantly.
"Well?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips. I licked my suddenly dry lips. How do I politely tell someone that I was about to tell them off? I mimicked her position, and thought fast.
"I was going to say that I hope you're planning to redecorate my side, too!" I giggled, and Amanda came up and hooked her arm around mine.
"I like you already, Maggie."
___________________________________
All you could hear at the table were forks scraping against plates, and quiet munching. me, on the other hand, was picking at hastily prepared salad. Sharlene didn't know I was a vegetarian, and my father never bothered to tell her.
"Oh, well." I remembered her say, while looking at my father pointedly. He just shrugged.
I look now over at my new family. Sharlene was sipping a glass of wine quietly. My father was drinking a glass of water. I could see him staring hard at Amanda's and Sharlene's drinks. I could practically hear what he was thinking to himself.
'Do you know what wine does to your teeth, hun?' 'Amanda, you know better than to drink more than one cup of soda.'
I smirked to myself, and ate another forkful of salad.
After a little while longer of silent eating, my father wiped his mouth off and cleared his throat. We all looked at him expectantly.
"How about we do something fun, eh?" He gestured, and I raised my eyebrows in interest. My father, and fun? I mean seriously. he's a dentist.
"What, Babe?"Sharlene batted her eyelashes at him. the use of the petname made both me and Amanda shiver.
"Every year, at the end of the school year, Maggie and I make a promise about what we want to accomplish over the summer. And we strive our best to accomplish it." He said, and I nodded with him. it sounds stupid, but that is one thing that we both take seriously. My father knows that you just can't keep yourself to rot over the summer.
Do I feel the same way?
I do. I mean I did. But wouldn't it be alright to spend half of a summer wasting away? What Is so wrong with that?
"Okay. I'll go first!" Sharlene's chirpy voice said. She looked as if to be thinking. We all seemed to lean in, waiting for what she was going to say. She looked around the big dining room one last time.
"My goal for this summer is to redecorate this whole house," she started, and I looked at my father. His eyes were wide. "This place needs a little...flair." She said, waving her hands around for emphasis.
No one messes with the way this house looks.
At least, that's what mother told father and I. She loved the simplicity, the niceness of it. And after she left us for the guy that fixes our cars, Father and I never bothered to change it. It was simple.
"Amanda, it's your turn." Was my father's only reply. It seemed that Sharlene got the hint, and paused from telling us her ideas. Amanda looked determined on what she was going to say.
"I'm not sure this really has to do work the summer Alone, but I want to get into a good college. I could take summer courses,or private tutoring. " I couldn't help it; when she said 'private tutoring', all I thought of was her making of with some guy. I stayed to wonder what it would be like top be popular. To have extravagant, expensive clothes, hottest boys. I always looked at them from afar; I wondered how I would fit in.
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Then it finally hit me.
This is what I want to be. I actually want to be in the spotlight! I want to go to school hungover. I want to party with college guys because they think I'm hot.
Is that too wrong?
"Maggie Alacia!" my father bellowed. I was knocked out of my thoughts. They were waiting for me. I jumped inwardly and stared down at my salad. I didn't want to tell them what I want to be.
"I just want to start painting again," I said slowly. My father smiled wildly and clapped his hands together. I smiled softly. I know that if I voiced what I actually want that I would get scolded. I would be told to focus even more on school; no no, no happiness for you.
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A few hours later, Amanda and I are sitting on our beds. While my bedspread is a dazzling white, hers is an even more extraordinary red. I think she had sparkles on it, the way it shimmered when she moved. I tried not to stare at her hard. She was texting, really fast. I, on the other hand, was reading a book. I tried not to focus on her light giggle when she would get a message, and more on the pages of my book.
With a huff, she stopped texting and looked at me.
"Yes, Maggie." She said, looking over at me. I slowly closed my book, feigning surprise. Did she know I was thinking about her?
"W-what?" I stumbled over my words. She turned around to face me full-on.
"Something must be eating you alive," She started, fishing through her purse for something. "I've never saw someone look so adoringly at their salad like you did." I blushed a deep crimson. She was watching me at dinner? I started to play with the ruffle of my nightgown.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I shook my head. She didn't back down. Why does she care so much?
"Look me in the eyes and say it then."
I looked up at her. I stared at a beauty mark that was by her eye.
"I don't have anything to hide."
She walked up to my bed; slowly. She sat across from me. I got a whiff of strawberries, apparently her shampoo.
"Now. Say it again." She dared, and I gulped. She would know if I wasn't looking straight into her eyes from this proximity. I looked into her blue-gray eyes.
"I'm not." Why does this matter to her so much? Does she think I'm a murderer? Why can't I just tell her of what I truly want? She might actually be able to help me. I looked at her again.
"Actually... I uhm.... I want to be popular," I started, and saw her eyes widen a little. "Not, like, popular popular but more like out there having fun and stuff and I--"
"Stop it right there." She said, lifting a finger. My mouth seemed to halt on its own. She stared at me critically for a moment.
"You have the looks. Plus, I've always wanted a popular sister like me! C'mon." She said, pulling me along to the vanity that was in the corner of my room. She slowly started to take out my night braid, and my dirty blonde hair fell to the top of my waist.
"Okay, first, we need to do something cool to your hair." She started, eyes aflame with ideas.
"Like what?" I asked.
"Highlights, duh!" She started to roam around the room some more, blabbering about clothes and accessories.
"Maggie." She said to herself. I turned to look at her.
"Yes?" I asked, and she stopped in place.
"I don't like your name. Do you have any nick-names?" She asked, walking up to me. I was about to shake my head 'no', but then I remembered what my mother used to call me.
"My mom... when I was little, she used to call me by my middle name," I started, thinking about the time in my head. That was before I became a teenage adult.
"What, what is it?"
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"Lacie," I said, tasting it on my tongue. "The name was Lacie."
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