Mark My Words

29 | Training For Glory

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Joanna called shotgun, and so Rosalie hopped into the backseat of a black Taurus. The seats were sleek leather, and so Rosalie slid on her silky Adidas sweatpants and tipped a bit too far for comfort. There was a duffle sitting on the seat beside her. She weaseled herself up into a sitting position, and realized that Joanna's father was staring right at her.

    And that Joanna's father... looked a lot like a woman.

    Lieutenant Colonel Spencer had a sharp-looking crewcut and perfectly manicured, thick brows that arched in Joanna's direction as she lowered her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose. Her eyes were the same caramel brown as Joanna's.

    "What?" Joanna said.

    "You gonna introduce me or do I have to do all the work myself?" Lieutenant Spencer said. Yes, definitely a woman, Rosalie said, sinking in her chair. She wondered why Joanna never bothered to correct her.

    "Lieutenant, Rosalie Mason. Rosie, this is my mom," Joanna said with a vague gesture between them. She snapped her seatbelt out and buckled it.

    "How was the dance?" Lieutenant asked, putting the car back in drive. She pulled out onto the boulevard.

    "It was good. I was Homecoming King," Joanna said.

    Her mom barked out a laugh, sunglasses back in place. "Nice one, Killer."

    "I'm serious. Rosie, back me up," Joanna said.

    "Oh! Um, yeah, she danced to Waterloo down the auditorium aisle," she said. Her mom laughed again, and so Joanna twisted around in her seat to look at Rosalie with a dull stare.

    "Ya see? She doesn't believe half the shit I spew even when I have evidence," she said. Rosalie laughed. Joanna slumped back in her seat and said, "Makes parent teacher conferences interesting 'cause you don't believe them either."

    "I've only ever trusted one man, and that man's dead, so you know what?" her mom said. Rosalie stared wide-eyed out the window.

    "Jesus Christ here we go," Joanna said, crossing her arms.

    Lieutenant Spencer looked at Rosalie through the rearview mirror. "His name was Sir Harold and I loved him very much. He was a bright orange tomcat. He could open doors and all that shit," her mom said, gesturing sharply with one hand and driving with the other.

    "Get another cat if you love them so much," Joanna said.

    "You're allergic."

    "I like to suffer," Joanna said, nose in the air. "Rosalie's got a demon cat."

    "No shit? What's its name?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at Rosalie.

    "Khoshekh," she answered. "He has a white patch on his forehead that makes it look like he has three eyes."

    "That's stunning," Lieutenant Spencer said, turning back to the windshield. "I've never heard of such a gorgeous cat before. Sir Harold doesn't even compare."

    They arrived at the gym parking lot before long, but not until after Joanna hooked up her phone and started playing ABBA in low volumes. Her mother shook her head with a sigh and said, quietly, "That's so nice. I love that." Rosalie grinned from the backseat and looked between Joanna's headrest and the doorframe where she could see Joanna wiggling her eyebrows at her through the side mirror.

    Once the car was in park, Lieutenant Spencer swiped her keys up along with her phone, and tossed a plastic bag at Joanna as Joanna was leaving. "Clothes, missy," she said.