Efforts

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Mother stood in front of the toaster as Ruby walked in. A plastic plate holding a stack of Eggos and syrup sat on the kitchen counter.

"You know, sometimes I just can't tell anymore." Ruby looked at the waffles suspiciously.

"Tell what?"

"If you care. See, today you make me waffles, but yesterday you left me to gorge myself on the manmade monstrosity that is a Poptart. Neither are healthy, but one of them counts as you putting in effort. You see? How am I supposed to tell if your slight-- nearly invisible-- efforts are real, or if they're just for today."

"Of course I care."

"See, another thing that leads me to believe you don't care is that you always have these short answers that give what is expected of the average American mother. Sure, you love me no matter what, but do you really support all my actions and opinions, do you appreciate me for who I am? Are you willing to keep a promise." Rubby took a bit from the Eggo thoughtfully, "The most words I get out of you are criticism for my actions. For the haircut, my clothes, my arrogance. Things that are skin deep for the most part."

The cardboard face of Mother dampened, "Of course I love you--"

"Of course, as if it's obvious."

"I just might not be the most willing to give PDA--"

"Because you're so hip, so hippity hop that you think you understand everything..."

"What do you think I think of you, if it's not that you are my daughter."

"That I'm some rebellious punk, clearly. Some juvenile delinquent. Well I'm not a klepto, I'm not a pyro and I'm not a psycho. I'm just trying to figure out something new, see what I enjoy and what works well for me. I don't think you work so well for me." Ruby bit again into the doughy breakfast, chewed and swallowed. She watched Mother's face, her paperthin lips pursing, trying to find words, but not succeeding. She could see through the rigid facade-- Ruby was viewed as a trouble maker, and not much more. "I'm off to school, and don't worry. You and Father can do paperwork tonight, I'll be with track."

Her backpack which had been hung precariously on the back of a chair was swung over her shoulder and she walked straight out the door, leaving half a waffle behind. Mother turned her stomach into a curdling pot of milk, chunky and bitter. Unsatisfied yet unappetitzed by reality.

The door slammed behind her and she set off speed walking down the sidewalk. Her thoughts shook and rattled against the interior of her skull, fracturing the barrier to her facial features.

Was her mother trying? One second she could say that mother was putting something into the circle, but then she was certain is was a temporary show of emotion and that it was a mask built of more cardboard than usual.

Inside the pale bones that held her head together just barely, that held her mind in, captured the real her, she was screaming. She felt as if her footsteps were pounding against the gravel with an aggressive crunch and her legs were marching roboticalyl to the rhythm of her unhappiness.

Then there were more than just her feet, there was another pair, falling in step beside her.

"Hey Ruby."

"Hi Paula."

"You're walking to school awfully early today. Making up a math quiz for Ms Ruth or somethin'?"

"No."

"Helping with prom tickets or something? That's what I'm doing."

"Ha," Ruby let out bitterly, "I wish that were my reason."

"Oh... I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?" If there was one thing remarkable about Paula, it was that she shared the same level of commitment to the universe as Ruby, but she also had all the manners that Ruby didn't. Paula was always willing to give anyone a shoulder to cry on, always willing to give you a dollar at Dunkin Donuts in case you were five cents short, and involved in every school event that benefited the people around her. She was known to keep a secret, over all trusted, and if she ever decided to spill the beans, to start spreading what she heard, then the entire school would be screwed. For life. There wasn't a rebellious deed done that Paula didn't know about and there wasn't a breakup that she didn't understand.

"It's nothing, just parents being their usual evil selves."

"That sucks." Her blunt two word description somehow set Ruby at ease, in a way she didn't know was possible. The words acknowledged that there wasn't much Ruby could do with the situation, that life was just life. It was a reality, and reality was fact, and you could live with it, or you could die with it, but either way, reality was the last thing you saw, and reality was your end.

"Yeah." They came to the corner of Quince Avenue and Ruby stared up at the mildly green sign, "I think I might take a detour to get an iced coffee or something, I'll see you later."

"Sure, I'll see you later."

Ruby turned down Quince towards the round-lettered sign featuring orange and pink. A handful of upper and lowerclassmen were situated outside and inside of the small coffee shop, and Ruby passed them without a second glance. She was struck by a blast of air conditioning and the heavy aroma of ground coffee beans. The fluorescent lights scratched at her unexpecting pupils, pulling them out, forcing them to dilate and compensate for the lack of natural light. The radio played dimly in the background and Ruby stepped up to the counter, "One small hazelnut iced coffee please." She dug a five from her pocket and let it slip to the synthetic counter top. A middle aged woman with her hair tied back tightly and thick makeup nodded.

After Ruby got her coffee, she started walking back towards school as the film in her mind circulated, from first hearing about her parents divorce to telling them that she knew to their reactions to her haircut. What made it so that anything her mother put effort in was what took Ruby down a notch, and the same happened when she didn't put the effort in? Mother didn't understand her, that was what it was, but at the same time, Mother was putting efforts into the wrong place.

Ruby sipped at the overly sweet beverage, and thought to herself. It wasn't that she wasn't putting in effort either, she herself. It was that she was putting effort into the wrong things. It was that instead of creating her own path, she just kept working on making it through another day, the same as always. She put her efforts into trudging forwards instead of seeing that she could jump to the side and go so much quicker, anywhere she wanted. The haircut had been a baby step to the side, that was what it was.

She tossed her half finished iced coffee into the trash bin that stood permanently beside the schools front doors, gum cemented to where it met at the concrete, metal edges scraped to a rusty brown and with the smell of rotten fruits and subway emanating from it. Ruby grinned to herself for the first time that day at her realization that maybe the most judged object in her proximity was that very trash bin, while despite it's accumulating life, it wasn't judging her or the selfish preps or the druggies that traipsed past all at different times in the morning. she considered briefly joining the schools cleaning committee, but the thought was fleeting. If there was anything she knew, it was that everything had its fleeting moments.

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