Ethel 'n Opal

six

e t h e l   d i x o n

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What is the structural formula for propanone (acetone)?

I stare down at the question, urging the answer to come out of thin air, but I honestly don't know at this point. It also doesn't help that mummy chooses now to blast her gospel, preparing breakfast while I do my chem homework at the kitchen island. Having just came from work this morning, she hasn't had a chance to change out of her green scrubs or adjust the the lace that's starting to lift. Her disheveled appearance only softens my previous irritation. 

Popi listens to the radio while doing a crossword, sipping on plain black coffee, his weird self. Out of boredom, my eyes wander and happen to land on Sebastion who's getting ready to leave. He fixes his twists with the hallway mirror while rubbing his chin like he even that cute.

I try to concentrate again so I can finish this newer assignment because me and Opal didn't have enough time in class on friday. We'd split the work and agreed on swapping answers in class on monday. But I'm at my last nerve and  seriously about to say fuck it, and just google the answers. I should've done that from the very beginning, but I don't want to admit to myself the reason that I'm actually trying. Opal just seems like one of those super smart brainiacs and ion know. I guess I want her to think I'm smart too. Even though if she didn't, I honestly wouldn't give a fuck.

Still, I muster my last brain cells, tryna recall what 'Jackson discussed about the stuff she went over, so I can maybe answer the last five questions left. "She better not tell me that it's actually fucking 'd' because of the three-carbon-OH-bonds or some shit like that," I find myself mumbling this under my breath, imitating Opal's annoying voice.

"Ethel, doudou it's the weekend, what you so angry about already?" I look across from me and find mummy frying eggs while snacking on some fruit. I laugh at the tired look she gives me. I really be feeling bad sometimes 'cause I be stressing mummy out. But if I don't, who will?

"This stupid chem assignment," I wave the three-page-packet in her face, "I'm telling you mummy, if my lab partner tells me all this work I wasted time on is wrong, we throwing hands. And when the principal calls, you and popi gotta come to my defense 'cause yall see me working hard right?"

I hear popi smack his lips loudly behind me in the corner where the small table is at. "Ethel, ret nan wol ou okay." (Translation: stay in your place)

"Ethel, all day you come from school and talk about this lab girl. Maybe you like her with the way you talk about her so much, eh?" Mummy waves us both off, handing popi his plate of eggs and waffles with fruit on the side.

I'm caught off  guard and my pulse spikes, an uncomfortable feeling settling in my stomach. "Don't insult me like that mummy. You know good and well I just got out of a break up so don't be starti- "She makes her way back around, feeding me a cantaloupe she took from popi's bowl so shut me up, and sets down my own plate of breakfast. 

I chew then thank her, before heading to the fridge for the orange juice, mind lost in thought. Though the pitter-patter of my heartbeat doesn't stop, nor does this irritating urge I feel to defend my actions more to mummy.

"Doudou?"

"Hm?" I continue pouring, chancing a quick glace to see mummy heading out the kitchen with a mug of coffee.