It was just before five when Jessica heard the front door slam, meaning her mother was home. She didn't bother moving from her desk, where she was tackling an algebra assignment.
A moment later, there was a knock on her bedroom door, which then swung open.
Jessica tried not to roll her eyes. Her mother wasn't a big believer in personal space.
Personal space also was also hard to find when the two of them shared such a cramped house.
She turned in her desk chair to look at her mother, who was leaning against the doorframe as she removed her high heels.
"How was school today, honey?" Suzanne Heath asked.
"It was fine."
"You've bought your prom ticket already?"
"Yes. I told you, I bought it last week." Jessica said shortly, wishing the conversation could just end. But sadly, she knew it wouldn't. Her mother was just getting warmed up when it came to her favourite subject these days.
"Has any boy asked you to be his date yet?"
"No, Mom. You already asked me that yesterday. And the day before. I don't think you bugging me on the daily is going to change anything."
Suzanne looked up from rubbing the sole of one of her sore feet and gave her daughter a wounded look. "I'm not bugging. I'm simply keeping myself informed about my teenage daughter's life."
"Sure." Jessica was in no mood to challenge her. She had homework to do, which was something her mother never bothered asking her about.
She'd always been a good student. Again not exceptional, but pretty solid. She knew she could've probably landed at least a partial scholarship to a state university. Maybe to even one of the out of state ones if she really threw herself into her grades.
But what would be the point? Even a partial scholarship would never be enough. The Heath household didn't have a single spare dollar. Jessica knew if she wasn't offered a full ride to college, it was as good as being offered nothing at all. She simply couldn't afford to go.
She couldn't afford the tuition or books.
She sure as hell couldn't afford the dormitory fees.
And even if she was willing to accept social suicide and be a student that commuted every day to class instead of living on campus, she had no car to get her there and back.
She avoided talking to anyone about that particular disappointment in her life, but it still stung. Especially now, when there were only a few weeks left of senior year.
Even Clair didn't understand her turmoil, on the very rare occasions they'd mentioned the subject of college. This was despite the two girls being as close as could be and sharing every other thought.
"What's the big deal around college? Apart from campus parties and having the chance to screw varsity football players, why do you care so much about whether you go or not?"
Clair hadn't been trying to be nasty when she'd asked that question. She'd looked genuinely perplexed.
"What do you mean, why? Because I have to plan a future! We all do. Graduation is only a few weeks away and after that, we won't be students anymore. We'll just be unemployed." Jessica winced at the ugly word. "Unless we manage to find jobs."
"You mean like being a shopgirl at some pathetic little store in the mall? Or a waitress? Euwww. No fucking thank you. I'd rather kick a cactus than have to spend the rest of my life here."
"Then what are you going to do to make your escape?"
"You'll see." Clair had winked, looking like she brimmed with her usual bravado. "The day after graduation I'll be out of Abbot Springs faster than you can blink."
The thing is, Jessica pointed out to herself, she probably will be. People like Clair always make their own luck. Because it's a hell of a lot easier to be lucky when you're from a rich family.
Whereas I'm neither rich or lucky, so I'd better hit the books. Even if I have to work for a couple of years and save up enough to go to a community college, that's still better than getting stuck here indefinitely.
She turned her attention back to her textbook, though she couldn't concentrate anymore. All she did was brood about her situation.
I know life isn't supposed to be fair. But why does it have to be this unfair? I probably get better grades than three quarters of the kids in my class who are heading off to various universities in September. I've heard a few of them whining they don't even want to go! Yet they get opportunities I can only dream about.
Throwing her pen down with a frustrated sigh, Jessica eventually stood up and stretched her back. Her stomach gave a hungry rumble as she walked out of her bedroom.
She found her mother in the tiny kitchen, adding vinaigrette to a salad.
Jessica sat down at the kitchen counter and swiped a breadstick.
Suzanne gave her a little frown. "Come on, honey. You know you shouldn't be gorging yourself on starches like that."
"It's one breadstick, not the whole bakery. Besides, I have cheer practice after school tomorrow. I'll burn it off and then some."
Her mother didn't looked convinced but at least seemed willing to drop the subject for the moment. Suzanne served out two plates of food and sat down facing her daughter.
Jessica kept her eyes on her food as she started to eat quietly. She could feel her mother watching her, mentally counting how many bites she was taking. It was making her tense.
She'd long come to dread dinners with her mother. Any shared meal since she'd hit puberty, truthfully. Suzanne was constantly trying to monitor Jessica's weight and diet, under the guise of 'healthy eating'.
This was despite Jessica always having been lithe, especially since she'd taken up cheerleading.
It was yet another thing between mother and daughter that made their relationship such a complicated one.
Suzanne would insist she was only driven by good intentions, just wanting to make sure her daughter was the best she could be.
Jessica however, hated her mother's vapid side. She knew her mother would see having a chubby daughter as being less of a tragedy than an unintelligent one.
I guess it's how you're bound to turn out, when you've spent all your life trying to get by solely on your looks and charm.
Jessica looked up from her plate and critically eyed her mother, who was picking at her food like a bird.
Suzanne Heath was still a strikingly pretty woman. She'd been only eighteen when she'd given birth to Jessica.
And she had the infuriating habit of acting far younger than she actually was.