Page 42 of 10 Things I Hate About Prom
Mami holds up a warning finger before I can finish. She crosses over to Nurse Oatmeal, scooping her into her arms and petting her head until she finally stops her tirade in favor of licking Mami’s fingers.
“Where have you been?” Mami snaps as soon as the barking subsides.
I’d called and attempted to explain myself during the car ride over, promising that I was safe and heading home, but I guess I’ll have to start over again. “I’m sorry, Mami. Our rehearsal schedule got switched up and I forgot to tell Tío Tony.”
“What has gotten into you lately?” She plows right past my explanation. “You don’t answer my calls, you’re replying with one-word answers to my texts. Then your tío tells me you havethree weeksof detention? You’ve never had detention before,Ive!”
So much for keeping that from her. Annoyance surges through me like an electric current, my fingers clenching into fists, my teeth grinding together as I use every ounce of my energy not to unload. Telling her that this is only the second time she’s been around when I got home in a month isn’t going to help my case. Though the fact that she might only be here because she thought I’d disappeared does hurt enough to make my eyes start to burn with unshed tears.
“I’m calling your tío,” she says before setting down the dog and grabbing her phone. “I can’t have you working until ten o’clock at night when you’re distracted like this. School comes first.”
The threat of losing my only source of income creates the first crack. “Mami, please, I need this job,” I plead, rushing to stand in front of her, anger cooled now that I have to beg her for mercy. I’m not above getting onto my knees if I have to. “The detention thing was just a misunderstanding, I swear.”
She raises a micro-bladed brow. “Oh, so they’re giving out detentions for misunderstandings now?”
“It’s not…” I exhale sharply, willing my voice not to crack despite the tightness in my throat. “I took the fall for a friend so they wouldn’t get an even harsher punishment.”
The explanation softens her expression slightly, but her mouth is still pressed into a tight line. “You shouldn’t be putting yourself in those types of situations in the first place, Ivelisse.”
How the hell was I supposed to know Joaquin’s innocent promposal was gonna catch on fire?
“You can’t start getting into trouble this close to the finish line,” Mami continues. “What if Rutgers heard about this? You don’t just have a free ticket to act up; there can still be consequences.”
“I don’t want to go to Rutgers.”
The words slip out without me even realizing I’ve said them, so quiet I wonder if I just imagined them. But Mami’s expression is definitely real.
“What?”
Immediately, I regret saying anything. Especially now. This is a conversation I knew we’d have at some point, but did I really have to blurt it out while she’s already pissed as hell?
“I…I don’t want to go to Rutgers,” I choke out. I urge myself to calm down before continuing, my voice surer this time. “Because I got into Sarah Lawrence.”
Days of confusion and guilt fall away when I say the words out loud. I don’t want to go to Rutgers. I’ve known that since the day I got in, but I was too afraid to face it. For once, I want to take a risk. It could be lonely, and hard, and not at all what I pictured, but I’m willing to try. Because I’m tired of fading into the background.
Mami appears completely perplexed. Which, fair. I definitely threw a curveball at her. “That’s great, Ive, but why are you just telling me about this now?” She rubs her temples. “Isn’t the deposit due next week?”
“I tried to tell you, but…” I can’t find the right words to soften the blow.
“But what?” Mami snaps when I take too long to respond.
“But you’re never here!” I finally say, the words pouring out of me like water through cracks in a dam. “You’ve been blowing me off to go on dates formonths,and then when you’re actually home you spring this Rutgers merch on me, so I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to get into a fight the one night I had with you!”
Mami takes a step back, as if I pushed her, her face a mixture of shock and anger. Nurse Oatmeal attempts to keep the peace, standing directly between us.
“You don’t understand how hard I work,” Mami spits out, voice low and hard and bitter. “To pay for this house, for food, for you to be able to even go to college. I havealwaysput you first in everything that I do.”
“I never said you don’t work hard,” I reply quickly. And I never would. Mami has always been the hardest-working person I know but that doesn’t change what the real problem is. “If you weren’t home because of work, that’d be one thing, but I’ve been eating dinner by myself for weeks because you’re meeting Doug or Paul or whoever the hell it is this month. I’m not distracted. I’mtired,Mom. I’m tired of running around every day, trying to make everyone happy, and feeling like I’m failing instead. I’m tired of wondering if I’m ever going to see you.And I’m really effing tired of coming home to an empty house.That’swhy I don’t want to answer when you call. Because you’re just gonna tell me you’re not coming home. Again.” She opens her mouth, probably to scold me, but I plow through to my next thought. “And even if Iwasdistracted, how would you know? It’s not like you’re ever here to find out anyway!”
My body heaves, loaded with all the things I haven’t said yet and the weight of the things I have. I half expect her to whip a chancla out of thin air and throw it at me like every Latina matriarch, but Mami stays quiet, stunned. Staring down at me with something in her eyes that I can’t read. Something far worse than disappointment.
“Don’t ever speak to me that way again. I’m yourmother,” she spits, literally, and points a pink fingernail at me.
Common sense tells me to play nice and beg for forgiveness. I can’t take back what I’ve already said, but I can stop myself from saying anything else I regret. But I don’t, I just let out another bitter, hollow laugh. “Yeah, well, it definitely doesn’t feel like you are anymore.”
I regret it the second the words leave my mouth, my shoulders hunching forward as if to snatch them back and swallow them down. But it’s too late, they’ve left their mark on Mami like a slap across the cheek.
And the worst part is, a part of me likes it.
