Chapter 31 "Chicken Wings & Red Flags"
So Mom's been coming home with expensive gifts—bracelets, handbags, perfumes that scream "not on a teacher's salary." And sometimes, she's getting fancy deliveries too, all neatly wrapped and dripping of "Paul money." Hum. I'm not dumb. She definitely touched some stacks, but instead of comforting me, it just makes me more uncomfortable. The hum slithers whenever I look at her smiling with those packages. Like warning static under my skin.
Well, what can I say? Mother be in love. Bluh. I fake a barf every time she giggles at her phone like she's sixteen again. Hum gets sharper then, like it wants to scream but I mute it.
I thought I could turn a blind eye to all this… until Paul started gifting me things too. Shoes. A phone. Even jewelry. I didn't want his shit. He ain't bribing me, and he damn sure can't buy me loving. He can keep his "compensation packages." But whatever. Mom thinks it's sweet. I think it's suspicious. And the hum? It won't shut up.
I still don't trust this guy. Not one bit.
Then one night, the front door slams open, and I hear her shouting:
"Ella! … Ella!"
I roll my eyes so hard I swear I saw my brain. Great. She's about to ruin my peace again. Or maybe she wants something that'll definitely piss me off. Taking a huge breath, I yell back, "Coming!" My voice drips with boredom.
She's standing there, all smiles. "Sweetie… how are you?"
"I'm fine," I lie. I already know this isn't a random 'mom check-in.' This is the setup before the punchline. She's practically glowing. She wants something. I can smell it.
But I keep my mouth shut, waiting for her to hit me with the bomb.
Instead, she gestures to the kitchen table. "I made your favorite—chicken wings and fries."
I blink. Chicken wings? Dad's recipe. My chest tightens. Hum turns into a sharp buzz, like it remembers too. Without questioning it, I sit down and take a bite. The crispy skin cracks, smoky spice filling my mouth. Tears sting my eyes before I can stop them. I take a shaky breath, hide my emotions, and keep chewing like it's nothing.
"Oh sweetie, it's okay… you don't have to hold it in," Mom whispers.
"What do you want, Mom?" I ask calmly, ignoring her attempt to get emotional. I keep eating, slow and deliberate, like silence could keep me from snapping.
She sighs dramatically, clutching her chest. "Ohhhh… so a mother can't just have a special moment with her favorite kid?"
"I'm your only kid," I deadpan. "Unless you're pregnant?"
Her eyes widen. "Ella!" she gasps. "I am not pregnant!"
I smirk. "Good. 'Cause the last thing I need is a crying sibling messing with my sleep schedule."
She shakes her head, but the hum deepens, vibrating through my skull. She's stalling. There's something else.
Finally, she drops it. "I did call you for a reason…"
I put down my fork slowly.
"Paul and I got you enrolled in a school," she blurts. "He's one of the big dogs there—like a pillar that basically owns the place. He pulled some strings and managed to get you in."
The world tilts. My fingers loosen. My fries slip from my hand and hit the floor, scattering.
The hum screams so loud it feels like it's rattling my teeth.
Mom keeps smiling like she just handed me a gift-wrapped future.
I sit frozen, trying to gasp her words. Trying to breathe past the warning storm ripping through my head.