Page 37 of Grease Monkey
Ana:You don’t have to be jealous; it’s my brothers. Not some random guy.
Teddy:No girlfriend of mine will wear another dude’s clothes. I don’t care if he is your bro.
Ana:Girlfriend*smiley emoji*I like that.
Teddy:Good. Now let’s try this again. What are you wearing?*wink emoji”
“Morgana, what is this?”
I jump, the grin hurting my cheeks dropping as I place my phone face down on my desk and turn to look at Mom holding my vintage Pink Floyd t-shirt between two fingers like it personally offended her.
“Erm, a shirt?” I say, trying to act unaffected, as my heart jackhammers in my chest. Taking a breath, I twist back to the Econ textbook I’d been reading to cram in some final studying before school starts, something that completely slipped my mind while staying up past midnight texting Teddy. I wanted to ask him to sneak over, but almost being caught last week has me paranoid.
“Morgana,” Mom snaps, storming across the room to stop at the side of my desk. “Don’t play smart with me, young lady. I know what it is. What I want to know is, where did you get it?”
I side-eye her and try to see the edge of my bed. I’m sure I’d done a better job of hiding that, made sure it was hidden away under my mattress, along with some other things, where she’d never find them. But the bed is tucked in neatly, with no ruffled edges or anything, which means…
“Did you search my room?” I ask, my eyes narrowing. She pouts her lips, a muscle in her jaw ticking. “Mom? Why were you looking around my room?”
She takes a harsh breath. “My daughter has been acting strange for months. I had to check that thatgirlyou call a best friend hadn’t gotten you involved in drugs or something.”
I scoff and shake my head in disbelief. The audacity of her to accuse Shay of something like that.
“But if my suspicions are correct, Shay might not be the one I have to worry about. Now, I’ll ask you again. Where did you get the shirt?”
“At a concert.”
“And who were you at thisconcertwith?”
“Shay,” I reply quickly. Mom grabs my biceps tight with her bony fingers, forcing me to face her.
“Never would I have imagined my daughter lying to me.” Her Botox must be wearing off because I can see she is mad, practically spitting fire bolts from her emerald eyes. “Tell me the truth.”
I want to lie again. Tell her she’s delusional, completely lost the plot, but she knows. She just wants me to say it out loud.
“Teddy,” I whisper.
“And I assume the other clothes I also found stashed away with this are Teddy’s?” She glowers, shaking the shirt for emphasis. I nod and drop my gaze from hers. “And he’s the one who has been running you to and from school? And the one who you let out of the house the other day too?”
I nod again.
She’s silent, but I can feel her hot gaze on the top of my head, a scalding weight I can’t bring myself to look at.
“Are you fucking thatboy?” she asks, her voice cold and disconnected.
“Mom!” I gasp, my head flying upward so quickly I could get whiplash. “Wha—”
“I will not let you embarrass our family by dating beneath you.”
“He’s not beneath me,” I say, my throat growing thick with a surge of tears that I need to keep in. I will not satisfy her with tears.Women don’t show their emotions, Morgana.“What is your problem with him? With his whole family? I see the looks of disdain every time you have to leave the house and they’re outside. Or what about how unbelievably rude you are whenever one of them tries to interact with you.”
“He’s not good enough for you, Morgana,” she yells, and I rear back. She’s never yelled at me… ever. She swallows hard. “What do you expect? To fall madly in love and for him to support you? To be able to give you this life?” She gestures around my large bedroom. “Wake up, Morgana. Women like us don’t get a happily ever after. We get convenience, wealth, and, if you’re lucky, a man who’s not an adulterer.” Her voice softens, and she reaches out to stroke my cheek, the sudden change making my head spin. “Sweetheart, that boy is not worth the air he breathes. And the day you wake up and realize it, it will be too late. I’m only trying to do what’s best before you’re trapped in a life you hate.”
A rogue tear escapes and trickles down my cheek as pain fissures through my heart. She wipes it away with her thumb and steps back.
“Now, get your things together for school. We’re leaving in five minutes.”
“What?” I ask, my voice thick and croaky.
