"May, you'll be homeschooled for just about, the rest of your school years," my mom said. At the time when I was 12, I thought it was the end of the world. Little did I know that it would just lead to puppy love.
"WHAT?!" I yelled. My mother became stern.
"Maybelle Carilynn, you will be homeschooled and that's that."
"Mom! What about my friends? Plus, you're too busy to be homeschooling me."
"Oh, but I won't be homeschooling you."
"Then that means--"
"That means, you know Mrs. Jonas right?"
"Yeah, what of her?"
"She'll be homeschooling you. The school accepts it. They see that it's okay for the fact that I'm just way too busy. So Mrs. Jonas is a stay-at-home mom and has agreed to take you in and the tutors that teach her boys will teach you."
"Mom!"
"What May?! Just get over it. You can make friends with the boys."
"Whoa, whoa, wait! Ever since Dad died, I have vowed not to make any more friends. His death has hurt me too much to let anyone into my life. I don't want anymore friends. I don't want a boyfriend. Now stop trying to push that in my life!" See, about a year before I was 12, my dad died in a suicide bombing while on duty in Iraq. After we learned of his death, I decided I wouldn't make any friends, and I'd decided that I didn't want a boyfriend either. But things started to change.
My mother grew silent of my mentioning of my father's death. In a quiet tone she said, "You're starting tomorrow." I grew silent also and marched off to my room.
The next morning, my alarm went off, but at 6:30 in the morning. Usually, I woke up at 5:45.
Mom came into my room, attempting to wake me up.
"C'mon, we need to go to the Jonases, and I have to catch a flight to get to Russia. Big business meeting that I can not miss."
"Seems like you can't miss any of 'em." I mumbled to myself. Serves her right, I thought. I hopped out of bed and grabbed some clothes out of my dresser in the dark. I tranced into the bathroom groggily and angry. I got dressed and applied some perfume and deodorant. I washed my face and grabbed my Vera Bradley bag and headed downstairs. My mom was standing at the front door, suticases in hand, ready to go.
"You look nice. Now get your coat, grab a pack of mini-muffins or something and let's go!" I rolled my eyes. It seemed like her way of buying my affection was treating me with money and presents, and I am NO material girl.
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