~10~ The Curse of Easy Peasy rears its ugly ass head.

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Look into my eyes
But don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide

Demons by Imagine Dragons

👽👽👽

"Next week?" My eyes snap into my mother who looks like a deer caught in headlights. "So this isn't a one and done thing to go back to school, like you said?"

"As I explained earlier this is a process, Sam." Amazonia sighs and looks directly at my mother and nods to me. Like why is this kid suddenly surprised that she is coming back to share more sorrows at a hundred bucks a pop? My mother blinks and like somehow she missed the cue to chime in earlier.

"Samantha." My mom turns to me all motherly, which is a serious departure from her normal let's just be best friends lazzie-fare attitude. "Like we talked about this morning? We think that it might be a good idea for you to have someone that you can talk about things with...other than just me. So you're going to be coming to see Beverly from now on. At least once a week for a while? And talk about whatever issues are bothering you...and get a different ...um ...perspectives?"

These clearly aren't my mother's own words, more like she is reading her lines off the After School Special script again. What the character of the normal overwhelmed mother is supposed to say to the "Troubled Teen", right before the intervention people come in and take her kid away. I swear she sounds like we are one, "you'll see, this is really for the best" away, from a tranquilizer dart in the neck. Followed by a nice yellow Jell-O force-feeding to go with my matching straitjacket.

There are times in life when it becomes really obvious that you have no choice in the matter at hand. So you have to just suck it up embrace the suck, and this is clearly shaping up to be one of those moments. So I no longer see the merit in trying to explain to either of them, I so don't need this sharing is caring crap. Now that I have my necklace back, I just need to take better care of my father's wings. And a doctor's note to get out of PE sounds like just the ticket. So problem solved, easy-peasy.

"Yeah okay, I guess, if we think it's for the best." I intone slowly to make the point.

My mother of course completely misses the wordplay. But it's clearly not lost on Amazonia, as she clicks her infernal pen and makes another scribble in the Saga of Samantha.

"I do Sam, I really do." My mother looks all kinds of relieved that I am not throwing a shit fit over this trick.

Which is sorta weird, because I don't do shit fits. Even as a child I never went in for the whole temper tantrum thing. My normal mode of dealing with her infrequent parenting oversights is the classic freeze out. My mother is the kind of friend that can't take the silent treatment for too long. Probably because she is way too dependent on our 'friendship paradigm' to cope with her own life alone. Or maybe I'm just fooling myself, and now that she has Buddy in her life she doesn't need me to be her best friend anymore?

"Well okay then." Bevy smiles graciously. "It seems like we have a little more time than I thought we would have. So this might be a good opportunity for Sam and I to get to know each other on a personal level."

"Oh...okay." My mother adjusts herself back in her chair and waits for the all healing to happen. And while I love my mother, sadly she is not exactly the best at picking up semi-subtle social clues. Like the obvious implication that "personal level" meant she wasn't invited to this particular pity party.   

"I think she means one on one mom? Like maybe you should go wait in the waiting room? Maybe check your Evil messages or something?" I nod her over to the door.

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