"We are leaving you!" My mom calls from the front room of the suite we are staying in.
"I'm coming!" I shout back over the song blasting through my speakers while I straighten my hair in the hotel's huge bathroom mirror.
We have dinner reservations at 8:00 and it is now 7:35.
If I was better at managing my time, I'd have started getting ready over an hour ago. I am fully aware that I can not get fully ready in less than 30 minutes when I hustle, yet I always manage to convince myself every time that I can go faster.
One more chapter, one more episode, five more minutes of sleep, just reply to a few more messages, watch a couple more videos...on and on until I've screwed my self out of all of the extra time I was allowing myself and then am left with less time to do whatever needs to be done with even less time than it takes me on a regular non rushed day.
"We aren't kidding!" My dad calls back. "If you aren't out here in three minutes we will go and we will not bring you leftovers."
"That's cruel and unusual punishment!" I shout back. "I don't like your threats today!"
"Then hurry up!" Mom calls.
Jesus, like I'm not trying.
I can't make my hair straight faster than I already am. I'm sure the back of my head is all wavy and stupid looking.
"The back of my head is none of my business." I say to myself, pointing the hairbrush at my reflection in the mirror.
I finish my hair, throwing the straightener and the brush all back into the drawer and look at myself again.
"You're killing me, kid." I whisper.
I still need to brush my teeth, do my eye makeup, and let's not forget the fact I'm still standing here in a oversized tshirt I'd taken a nap in earlier.
"Hayden Marie Maxwell, if you are not in this room in 60 seconds you aren't going!" Mom calls again, pulling out the big guns with the full government name to let me know she means business.
I run into the adjoining bedroom and flip open my suitcase, digging through it to find anything that isn't a monstrosity of wrinkles.
If I'd been smart and unpacked when we got here, I wouldn't have this problem. Instead, I've been living out of the suitcase all week. I seriously did consider doing it yesterday, but we leave tomorrow so what was really the point?
"We are going to the car!" Dad calls. "For the love of god, Hayden, please hurry up!"
"I'll be right down!" I call back, snagging the only dress I have left that I haven't worn.
I strip in the bathroom and throw it on as I hear the front door of the suite close.
I rush to finish up.
I know damn well their threats aren't empty. They left me and my sister at a grocery store one time when we wouldn't come out of the magazine section when they told us to. They went all the way home and put away the groceries before they came back to pick us up.
We'd been convinced we would have to start working in the store to earn our keep since we were now homeless.
After that we always came when called or told it was time to leave.
I do the best I can with the rest of my makeup. My eyeliner doesn't look even and my eyebrows aren't sisters or cousins or even showing up at the same family reunion at this point but it's the best I've got.
I brush my teeth, singing happy birthday in my head while wondering if it's happy birthday for brushing your teeth or your ABCs. Just for safety, I sing both.
