Perfect Pet

Ch. 2: The Talk

Mom and I stared at each other across the table as we waited for the waiter to bring us our food. To occupy my hands, I picked up my glass of lemonade, the ice clinking against the sides with the motion. I'd avoided bringing up the letter for as long as possible but with only a month left, until I had to leave, it was time to get it all out there. That didn't mean I was looking forward to the conversation or the ensuing argument afterward.

Truth be told, I would rather have my fingernails ripped off. That would be less painful.

"You seem nervous," Mother commented, causing me to pause mid-sip. She was daintily placing her napkin onto her lap, her keen eyes focused squarely on me. It was unnerving, to say the least.

Shaking my head, I quickly swallowed my mouthful before answering vocally. "I'm fine. Just a little hot is all."

Not a total lie. August in Texas still saw blazing temperatures and the little cafe we were at had an airy design so the patrons could look out on the Riverwalk and see the passing boats. The slow rotation of the ceiling fans did little to combat the humid air that only seemed to weigh a person down.

"Hmph." Mother left it at that, choosing to instead look outside. I'd brought her here because I knew this was one of her favorite places to eat, the atmosphere somehow exuding an upscale vibe while still being down to earth. One thing Mother loved was high society and this was as close as San Antonio could get.

The silence was broken by our waiter stopping by and passing around our food. With a promise to be back with refills, he left us alone once again. Mother chose to go with a light shrimp salad and I watched her delicately cut it into manageable bites. As if sensing my gaze, her sable eyes looked up and met my seafoam green.

To many people, being compared to their parents was a compliment. For me, it was my biggest nightmare. Physically we didn't appear much alike, thank God, but there were other ways. I prayed that people didn't see the same underlying maliciousness when they looked at me that my mother could never completely hide. Her contempt practically oozed from her pores, almost as a warning sign to run far away. I'd fought hard not to let her ruin me and I hoped it was reflected in my interactions with other people.

Embarrassed, I looked down at my lunch and begin to pick at it, my appetite nonexistent in the face of what was about to happen. I didn't have to wait long before Mother brought it up. She wasn't one to beat around the bush.

"If you have something to say, just spit it out already."

"Um." I'd rehearsed what I wanted to say in front of the mirror for hours, trying to find the best way to phrase it. All that practice flew out the window in the presence of my mother's stern glare and I was left choking like a fish out of water.

Just breathe and let it all out.

Forcing air into my lungs, it was released in a gush as scattered thoughts were collected again. This was not the time to panic and lose control. Heartbeat settling back to a normal rhythm, I set my fork down and gave her my full attention.

"I've been accepted to Rigryce Academy," I told her, hiding my trembling hands under the table. "I'm going to attend." Simple, to the point. My brain couldn't cough up anything better.

There wasn't a reaction for a few moments, Mother having trouble processing what I told her. I didn't say anything, letting her work it out as my hands fiddled with each other, nails digging into flesh in an attempt to stay calm. This was the calm before the storm.

"Rigryce?" She repeated, perfectly manicured brows furrowed. It was a surprise she let them, always trying to stave off wrinkles. "Isn't that school for what do you call them? Pets?"