August 21, 2010

It was the week before summer ended, and that meant that I was about to tread into some foreign waters in less than 7 days.

I was in my room going through my closet. On all of my white plastic hangers were uniforms that I didn't need any more. I looked at all of them and went through what I would wear during the week at SHPS.

Monday was khakis, a white button-up, and a green sweater with SHPS monogrammed in gold.

Tuesday was green pants, the same white button-up, and a gold sweater with SHPS monogrammed in green.

Wednesday we wore khakis again, with a green button up, and gold sweater-vest.

Thursday we had a choice between the khaki pants and the green pants, a white button-up, and a green and gold argyle sweater.

Friday was free dress. I still wore my uniform, but with jeans.

I then looked down at where I kept my shoes. I had one pair: my black converse that I got in grade 6. I haven't really grown much since then. My mother tells me that I am a late bloomer. Whatever that means.

As I stood there in my closet looking over what I kept in there, I realized: I have nothing to wear to school that wouldn't make me look like I had a stick up my ass. I left my closet and then realized that I had a mission.

I left my room and went down the hall to my sister's room. I stood in her door frame.

"Annah. I don't have any clothes."

She looked up from her book. She was doing her summer reading at the last minute, like she always did. I had finished Lord of the Flies the first week of summer, and had read it again twice already. Once again, my summer was average.

"What do you mean you don't have any clothes?"

"I mean I don't have any real clothes. All I have are sweaters, sweater vests, button-ups, and some terrible green pants."

Annah suddenly realized my problem. "Oh. Right." She then looked down at her book, and back to me, "Let me finish this chapter, and then we'll go shopping. Go ask mom for money."

I left her room and went to go search for my mother. I found her in the living room. It was a Saturday, so my dad and my mom weren't working. My mom was watching Oprah on our TV, and I could see my dad in the pantry.

My mother invited me to sit with her, "Come look at this. This woman is meeting her father for the first time in her entire life."

I looked at the TV and this really large, really unfortunate looking woman was sitting on the couch, and Oprah was sitting opposite her. They were talking about abandonment issues. My dad came back from the pantry with a bag of pretzels. Gluten-free pretzels. I had a severe gluten allergy, and my parents were very accommodating to that.

I loved my parents. My mother had fine shoulder length brown hair, and green eyes. She was a great lawyer in Houston and an even better mother. She made sure that we were always happy, and put our well-being ahead of hers. I think that had aged her a little. She was only 45, but she looked at least 10 years older. Gray hair had staked its calm in her hair and I could tell she wasn't thrilled about that. I always felt as if my mother held something back about her. I think she was reserved within herself, as in she could really tell you something because it would make you look differently at her. I really want her to tell me what she has secret. Then again, I think she felt the same way about me, and rightly so. I didn't tell my parents everything, and if I did, I know they wouldn't look me the same way.

My dad was a red-head. He had a beard and blue eyes. My dad was an attractive man and he had aged well. He had started at a gas company when he graduated, and he was now Senior Vice President by age 48. He was set to take over the company when the President retired, and he was thrilled about that. I was happy for him too. But sometimes, when I looked at my dad I felt as if we had nothing more than a business relationship. I knew nothing about him more than what he did, and he knew little about me other than what he saw in a few glimpses. I had his hair and his eyes though. I think that was one of the few things that we had in common.

"Mom I need money."

She started playing with my hair and didn't stop looking at the giant woman, who was now about to meet her father. "And why is that honey?"

"I have no clothes other than my SHPS stuff. I can't wear that to North Lake."

The editors of Oprah had planned it out perfectly, and they went straight to commercial break right before the mystery man walked out from behind the set. The anticipation is killing me.

My mother then looked at me and said, "Okay. You can take my card. Just don't spend too much okay. Do you need me to take you?"

"No," I responded quickly, "Annah is going to take me."

My mom seemed a little surprised by this but said simply, "okay."