Page 6 of Masked in Deception
“Nope, Margot, no kissing for me. Not until I’m eighteen,” I say.
“Well, when I’m eighteen, someone has to kiss me, and it’s going to be you, obviously! Like inSleeping Beauty!” She’s happy again now, and it’s impossible to deny her anything.
“Yeah, Princess, I’ll kiss you when you’re eighteen,” I say, pecking her on the forehead and tucking her in with her fuzzy blanket before leaving her watching cartoons instead of MTV.She’s gonna be so much trouble.
Chapter eight
12 years old
My favorite pop star singing about heartache finishes her song, and I immediately press replay. She’s the only one who understands what I’m feeling right now.
“Margot! Margot Sinclair, what on earth are you doing blaring music that loud? It’s past your bedtime, and you’ve got school tomorrow!” my mom says, opening the door to my bedroom and looking around in horror at what I’ve done with the place.
I think it’s a reasonable expression of my feelings. Everythingsucks.I’m not supposed to say that word, but it’s only in my head, and it’s true.Sucks, sucks, sucks.
“Sweetie, really. What’s wrong?” Mom looks concerned now, and I think maybe the song lyrics written in bold print taped up all around my room might look a little like I’m having a breakdown, which I’m not. At least I don’t think so.
“I’m fine, Mom. Just sad today,” I say, hoping she’ll leave so I can get back to looking for my scissors. Bangs will fix this. I’ve watched two tutorials, so I’m ready to give it a go.
“Is it a problem with a boy? At school?” she asks, stepping into my room and closing the door behind her. I sigh, turning my music down since this clearly won’t be a short conversation.
Actually, this might be a chance to get some of my feelings out. My mom is super cool, and I’ve never had a problem going to her with anything before. Boy problems shouldn’t be any different.
“Um, yeah, it is. About a boy, I mean. Just. A boy I like doesn’t know I exist, basically,” I say, giving the simplest, kinda true version of the situation to Mom. I can’t really say “I’ve been in kid-love with my adoptive brother since I was a toddler and now I’m almost a teenager and I think I love-love him but you showed me pictures of him at college yesterday and he was hugging and kissing a beautiful girl with pink highlights and now I want to cry until I can’t cry anymore.”
Even thinking this factual summary is too much, and I burst into tears.
“Oh, honey,” Mom says, coming to sit beside me on my bed. “This is the worst part of growing up, you know. It’s hard to feel something for someone and not have them feel the same way back. But Margot, Princess, sometimes it’s just not the right time for two people to feel a certain way about one another. Sometimes you just have to live your life and know the right person will come along at the right time.”
I breathe in on a sob and wipe some tears away, thinking about what Mom’s saying. I mean, she’s for sure the smartest person ever, but it really sounds like she knows who I’m talking about.Nah, there’s no way.She’s just being generally wise. That’s it. It doesn’t really make me feel better, and I kinda want her to leave so I can cut my bangs and write some more lyrics out. Maybe with some glitter this time.
“You know,” she says, glancing around my room, “I’ve been meaning to ask you if you wanted to help me with a project.”
“I’m pretty busy, Mom,” I say, gesturing to my unfinished boy band collage and some jean shorts I’m bedazzling.
“Well, yes, I can see that, Margot,” Mom says with a smile, “but this would be a chance for your creative side to shine. I was thinking it might be time to revamp your room. It’s been ages since we’ve done anything to it, and since you’re starting middle school soon, I thought you might even want one of the rooms with a nicer closet and room for a bigger piano area and maybe less pink zebra print.”
“I want Jack’s old room!” I yell before she’s even finished her thought. Her raised eyebrow makes me note the volume of my voice, and I continue quietly, “I would love a new room, Mom. Maybe Jack’s old room? That shower and closet are bigger, and the view is better.”It’s not.But she doesn’t have to know that I’m hoping his scent will still be at least a little embedded in the mattress. Or the carpet fibers.
Mom gives me a wide smile. “You can have whichever room you want, sweetheart. We’ll go this weekend and pick out wallpaper samples and some fabrics. We'll also get someone in there to build bookshelves for all these books you’ve been inhaling lately. It’ll be perfect.”
I lean on her shoulder and smile. It will be perfect. She’s right. Everything will be fine. I have the right person. I just need the right time.
Chapter nine
21 years old
“Two glasses of the best scotch you’ve got, neat,”I say, placing the same drink order Ledger and I have had since freshman year.
We’ve always looked a few years older. That and a good fake ID made it easy to get around the drinking age, but I have to admit, it’s nice not to have to fuss with that anymore. We attended our fair share of parties in high school, but they pale in comparison to the wild nights we’ve had since college. Hanging out in a bar long enough to pick up a couple of girls is actually a pretty calm Friday night for us.
As soon as we get our drinks, my phone vibrates, and I see the text from Blanche.
Mama B:
I know you couldn’t make it to Margot’s recital tonight, so I recorded a few clips for you to watch when you get a chance. We miss you!
Fuck.I completely forgot about her big piano recital tonight. We never missed one when we were still living at home, but we haven’t been to any since we left for school. I’m filled with guilt as I watch the video. It’s too loud to hear the audio, but my little princess looks regal and beautiful as she owns the stage.
