“Honey, where’s my slip?”
I swear my mother couldn’t find a needle in a needle stack.
“You’re holding it.”
“Oh, right, thank you,” she lifts up her only black business skirt to slip it on underneath.
“Oh God, mom! A thong? Do you think that’s appropriate?” I move back into our little apartment kitchen to remove the Eggo waffles from the toaster. I pull out plastic plates from the cabinet above and put two waffles on each. I dash them with some cinnamon for extra flavor and finish up with butter maple syrup.
“Shut up, Colin, all my other undies are dirty,” she walks into the kitchen and gives me a tight hug from behind.
“Gross, I’ll be sure to do laundry today,” I sigh rolling my eyes. I hand her a plate and she grins before plopping down at the small kitchen table. Our tabby cat Mabel hops onto the table with a little mew and my mom scratches her head and rubs noses with her. We found her in the alley next to our apartment building when she was a kitten. Actually mom found her and brought her home, though I thought it a bad idea to have a pet at first. Mabel won me over.
I take my plate to the table too with a pair of forks. Shortly after, we’re digging in and my mother chats animatedly about last night’s episode of True Blood. We only have basic cable obviously so we go across the hall to Aunt Rosie’s place to watch because she has HBO. She also isn’t really my aunt but we just call her that because she’s been so kind to us since we first moved into Avalon Apartments. Surprisingly she loves the show too and she’s nearly seventy-five.
I glance at the clock on our little stove. “You better go, mom, you don’t want to be late on your first day,” I remind her.
“Oh shit, you’re right. Thanks, sweetheart, breakfast was delicious.” She stands up immediately and scurries like a mouse into the cramped living area. I follow her. “Is Mrs. Cunningham coming?” she asks while she throws her golden blonde hair up into a bun in front of a framed mirror beside the apartment door.
“Yeah, she’ll be here around noon,” I say while I help her into her jacket and offer her purse to her. Mrs. Cunningham is my home school teacher. I did go to public school for a while but it never suited well with me. Especially when the bullying got real bad that I had to go to the emergency room.
“Great. Wish me luck,” she smiles and turns to me to plant a big kiss on my forehead. I frown at her and rub at the spot. I glance in the mirror to see a smeared pink mark. I groan but go to the door and shout down the hall where she stands by the elevator already.
“Luck!” She waves then steps into the elevator car.
I stare where she had once stood. I often feel like I am the adult, but I don’t mind so much. We are all each other has. I think we have a good relationship.
I am about to go back inside and close the door when I get a chill down my spine. It is the kind that for sure some creeper is eyeing you like a succulent steak. I look behind me in the opposite direction of the elevator to see a pale bare foot and the end of a pant leg disappear around the corner at the end of the hall. That is the direction of the stairs.
Okay, that was really weird.
I brush it off and finally go back inside.
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