Page 61 of Five Summers

I toss my bag to the side before making my way over to the table. Sitting down, I eagerly unwrap the burger and take a satisfying bite. All at once I get this weird feeling. I lift my eyes to see her watching me.

“What?” I ask.

“Where have you been?”

With my mouth full, I mutter. “Nowhere. Just driving around.” I take another bite.

I watch as she cleans her fingers with a napkin and raises an eyebrow. “So do you want to fillme in on what’s been going on with you lately?”

“There's nothing going on,” I say, getting up to grab a can of Coke from the fridge.

She tidies up the table and swiftly tosses the empty boxes into the recycling bin. I can tell that she wants to ask something more, but she’s hesitant because she’s afraid I’ll snap at her, as I have been doing for the past few days.

I let out a deep breath, knowing that this is going down whether I like it or not. “Just speak your mind so we can get this over with,” I say, opening my can and returning to the table to finish my burger.

“You’ll be wasting your life if you follow in your father’s footsteps.” She comes back to the table and sits across from me.

“Really? We’re back onto this,” I add, pausing mid-bite. “It’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? I wouldn’t say it’s wasting my life.”

Her mouth tightens, showing her anger, and I can sense she’s restraining herself from screaming at me. She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. After a brief pause, she finally speaks up.

“Poppy, I need you to listen to me without becoming defensive or interrupting me.”

“Well, that applies to you too. You can’t always have things your way.”

“See, you’ve just done it again. I don't know how to talk to you anymore.”

“That’s because you only see things from your side. You’re never interested in listening to what I have to say.”

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Without hesitation, I reach for it.

My mother immediately interrupts me. “Don’t even think about grabbing that phone. We haven’t discussed what I need to talk to you about.”

“I’ve heard it all before, Mom,” I respond, rolling my eyes, ignoring the stern look on her face.

Xander: The Rock. Be there at 7.

Poppy: Why?

As I’m about to place my phone face down on the table, I suddenly notice tiny bubbles appearing on the screen.

Xander: Just come the fuck here, Princess.

Poppy: Okay.

I slip my phone back into my pocket and confront my mother’s intense glare.

“Who was that?”

“None of your business. Are we finished yet?”

“No, Poppy, we haven’t even started.”

Releasing a weary breath, I exhale through my cheeks.

“I’m curious about where this idea came from. Why the sudden interest in music?” she asks.

“Oh my god, are you serious? You know, I’ve always loved music. But I guess you don’t really care, since you never listen to me.”

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