Page 1 of Hot Mess

1

KAYLA

“Ican’t believe you are leaving me,” Amber said. She sat cross-legged on my bed, my giant stuffed cow-thing in her lap. Cow-thing, it was basically round and fluffy, with ears and spots and an utter. It was soft and squishy and crazy cute. I called it Leonard— I know cows are girls and Leonard is not a female name. The naming had more to do with my favorite movie at the time I was gifted with Leonard, and the name stuck. Amber buried her elbows into Leonard misshaping it as she pouted.

“Give me that.” I reached out and tried to pull it away from her. After a momentary struggle, I had Leonard in my arms and was patting it. I didn’t think the foam inside could really be damaged or take on any other shape than round. But the crux of the matter was that she was abusing Leonard.

Amber lifted up on her knees and jerked Leonard back out of my grip. “You can’t take Leonard to California, Kayla. He won’t fit in your luggage.”

It was my turn to pout. Taking Leonard might make the whole trip not seem so scary. Maybe scary wasn’t the right word. Exciting, definitely; intimidating, probably; nerve-wracking, completely. I still couldn’t believe Mom was letting me go. She never let me do anything or go anywhere.

There were no band trips for me in high school. College had been completed on the little desk in the corner of my room through a distance learning program. Mom was overprotective, and then some. I couldn’t believe it when she actually said yes to letting me travel alone to California.

My uncle had been in town for the high school reunion. I don’t know which one this was for him, but the high school did homecoming week a bit differently, at least different from the movies. We had the big football game, but we also had a class reunion for everyone once they hit that ten-year mark.

Neither Amber nor I were welcome, having only graduated from Middletown High six years earlier. In four years, I knew exactly what my life was going to be like. I’d make a casserole, or an ambrosia salad and I’d go down to the gymnasium with Mom. It would be decorated with paper streamers in the school’s colors. We would dress up and talk to the same people we talked to every day and exclaim how exciting this reunion was.

No one from this town went anywhere. Well, except for the few exciting people, like my uncle, everyone here settled down with some kid they had known since the first grade. Half of my graduating class was already married, and half of them had at least one kid. Except for me, and Amber.

Amber was trying to find ways of getting out of town. And had plans on dragging me with her. I wanted to, but Mom needed me. At least that's what she was constantly telling me. Sure, she needed me to do things like weed the garden, take out the garbage, clean the cat’s litter box. She got so nervous if I even went to the store without telling her where I was going and when I’d be back.

So, when Uncle Dave somehow convinced Mom to let me go visit my cousins in Los Angeles I was stunned. I hadn’t seen my cousins Gabe or Jessie since we were children. I never knew the details, but I remembered having an Aunt Jenny, and then there was never any mention of her again. After that Uncle Dave packed up and moved to California. That had been the last time I saw my cousins.

“I’ll be gone for three weeks,” I folded a pair of cut-off jeans and tucked them in before Mom saw I was taking shorts. I had plenty of skirts packed, but I was going to southern California where they had beaches and surfers. I didn’t want to wear my boring skirts to everything. I had mostly packed my denim skirts. Those were borderline disreputable clothing as far as Mom was concerned. Too much like jeans.

I wasn’t allowed to wear pants. Men would see my shape, and at my size, Mom said that would be disastrous. I had to dress modestly in skirts below my knee, the longer the better. Nothing too form-fitting, and sleeves from the elbows up. If the neckline of whatever I had was too low, and with my ample bosom, everything was too low, I had to wear a high-necked half tee underneath.

I packed a few of the sun dresses I liked. They were okay in Mom’s eyes as long as I wore the half-tee shirt underneath. I packed the half-shirt but seriously considered not wearing them once I made it to Los Angeles.

“Stay there,” Amber said suddenly.

“I thought you wanted me to come back?”

“Stay, that will give me an excuse to go out there. We can get an apartment together. Get the hell out of this pit of a town. I don’t want to look back in a few years and regret that my best choices were Tommy Fredricks, or Dylan Tate, and that I missed out and am left with Ned Nielsen as the only eligible man in town.”

I snorted. Ned was easily eighty and didn’t have a natural tooth left in his head. Had a memory like a steel trap and would talk your ear off as soon as he thought you were listening.

“Well, he does own all that land out past the creek. You could inherit all of it as his wife.”

“Oh,” Amber mocked. “Acres and acres of nothing. That land is nothing but scrub and rocks.”

“And it could all be yours!” I giggled. I paused and grimaced at a terrible thought. “He might actually survive the wedding night.”

“That man is a walking mummy; he’d probably outlive me.” She shuddered in disgust.

“Kayla, honey,” Mom said as she walked into my room. She held out a heavy barn jacket, the one with the button-on hood for when the weather got wet. “You’ll want to take this.”

“Mom,” I whined. “I’m going to Los Angeles. It’s going to be warm, in the seventies. I’m not going to need my fall coat.”

“Nonsense, you are going to need something for when it gets cold. Especially at night.”

“Uncle Dave said I could get away with a sweatshirt or a hoodie.”

Mom made a scoffing noise and wrinkled up her nose. I didn’t own sweatshirts or hoodies. I was a good girl; I wore cardigans and homemade sweaters.

“I think that’s what Gabe and Jessie wear. I’ve packed two cardigans, that should be enough.”

Mom stared at me and started shaking. It was barely a visible tremor, but I noticed it. I had argued.

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