Red For Rebellious

Bad Timing

The week passed on slowly, and in no time it was the weekend. Colton had failed to show up to school at all, and I was beginning to worry about him. It wasn’t that I was worried about his safety, but worried that I had really hit a nerve by bringing up his brother. Also, he had the video camera and we hadn’t even started our project. The end of the year was nearing, and if I didn’t get it done, my grade would drop dramatically.

Thursday morning I missed my first period class to take my road test, which I passed with only five points off. My mother and father “surprised” me with my grandmother’s old mustang convertible. I knew I would be getting it since I turned sixteen, but I still acted surprised. The red hot paint was still tastefully intact, and I was one happy licensed driver. 

My happy mood only lasted throughout the school day, because when I got home, I found my mother in Melody’s room; eyes puffy and red. I sat by her side for an hour, rubbing her back and letting her cry into my shoulder. I would never let her know that she practically ruined my day; it’s not like she could help it anyway. That night she had asked me to skip school on Friday and come with her to church and then brunch, but I simply couldn’t. I gave her some lame excuse about having an important test, when in reality I couldn’t spend a whole day with her knowing that she was on the verge of breaking.

I was on the verge of breaking.

Every time the thought of Melody popped into my chest I felt like someone was stabbing me in the side. I had never felt completely at peace with her death, I never would, but for some reason when I was with Colton he made me forget. It sounded stupid when I said it in my head, but every time we were together I forgot about the pain for just a little while.

“Earth to Sutton!”

Vee’s strained voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She was standing at the end of her bed holding two ten pound dumbbells while doing some weird arm circles. Vee was always conscious of her body and keeping it in shape. She was always doing some sort of squat, arm training or cardio before any party we went to.

“Can I just stay here tonight? I’m not even dressed for a party?” I asked, peeking over at the clock.

It was six in the afternoon on Saturday, and all Vee could talk about was a party one of Mark’s friends were throwing. That was one of the main reasons I didn’t want to go; it meant possibly having to talk to Mark, and that was off my list of things to do.

Vee rolled her eyes and set down the dumbbells. She had a thin coat of shinny sweat plastered to her forehead, and by the way it scrunched up into a million tiny wrinkles, I was not getting out of this party.

“I’m going to take a shower, look for something of mine to wear,” she instructed before stripping down and heading into the bathroom.

Huffing, I stood from my comfortable spot on her bed and faced the closet. Vee’s closest was almost scary to me, you never knew what you were going to find in it. Once, while we were playing hide and seek when we were little, I found a bowl of old macaroni.

I pulled open the closet doors and peered inside. Clothes were strung everywhere; it looked like a rainbow and puked all over the place. Instead of looking through her things like I was instructed, I laid down on the ground and propped up my head with a pile of her clothes. When Vee finally appeared out of the bathroom, her makeup and hair done, I was practically asleep.

“How did I know this is what I was going to find,” Vee grumbled kicking me in the butt.

She crossed her arms over her white rob and glared at me. “I’m too tired to function,” I complained.

“I don’t care, now since you are unable to pick out your outfit, I will.”

I rolled out of her way. “Nothing too crazy,” I told her, knowing that most of her closest consisted of crazy colors and daring clothes I would never in a million years wear.