Emily walked through the door, shrugging off her backpack and putting it in her cubby. As she did, her eyes drifted up as they always did to the many trophies, medals, ribbons, and pictures that lined the top to the point where if even a button was added to the pile, it would all fall off.
She sighed looking at it all. In every single picture, she could make out her mom there as well. It might have just been an arm or a hand but more often than not her mom managed to squeeze her face into the frame, making sure her moment was eternally captured alongside her daughter's.
"Mrrroooww?"
Emily started, nearly knocking herself into the cubby. She turned and saw Champion, her tortoiseshell cat, peering up at her, licking her lips. "Jeez, Champ, you scared me," Emily muttered.
"Mrrooowww?" she said again, her eyes wide and pleading.
"Yeah, you're probably hungry I'm guessing," Emily nodded. "Alright, come on then."
She walked towards the kitchen with Champion following behind her eagerly, every now and then throwing in an extra "mrroooww," just to remind her. She stepped into the kitchen and then paused, looking over at the tin against the wall. Her mom was out a lot so their maid Zelda sometimes secretly made cookies that practically melted in Emily's mouth. She didn't know how Zelda made them so good, but they were heavenly. She opened up the tin, smiled at the sight, and grabbed one.
"Mrrrooooowwwww!"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Emily said. "I'm getting it." On her way to the fridge, she quickly placed the cookie in the microwave before pulling out the wet cat food, shaking it a little as she grinned down at Champion who was now winding through her legs, constantly meowing.
"Is this what you want?" she asked, holding out the can. "Yeah, I think it is. Alright, here we go." She started pouring some of it in. "Not too much, alright. Or you'll start getting a little plump." She then winced, her mom's voice in her head. She took a quick breath before standing up straight.
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
"Gah!" Emily shrieked, dropping the can onto the floor where all the cat food spilled out. Champion instantly abandoned her bowl and made for the mess, chowing down as much as she could. Emily jumped again a second later when the microwave dinged, the cookie ready. "Mom," Emily muttered, grabbing some paper towels. "You scared the hell out of me."
"Language dear," her mom said, patting her curled, blonde hair. "And I am sorry, I thought you heard me. Just arrived myself. I actually pulled up just as you came in. How funny is that?"
"Hilarious," Emily replied as she started cleaning up the cat food despite Champion's protests.
"Emily, you shouldn't do that. It's bad for your posture," her mom scolded. "You should let Zelda clean up that mess."
Emily frowned up at her. "Zelda doesn't work Wednesdays, mom, remember?"
"She doesn't?" her mom asked, scrunching her whisper-thin eyebrows together. "Hmmm, maybe we should hire a maid to work Wednesdays."
"Yes, that's the answer, hire another maid to do all the work," Emily muttered under her breath, picking up the last of the cat food and throwing it away. She then pushed a complaining Champion over to her bowl where there was still plenty of wet food left. "Enjoy it while you can. No more for a while. So where were you anyway?" she asked her mom.
"Oh you know, just went to the salon with some of the gals, got a touch done up there," her mom replied. She went to the salon at least once a week to get some part of her body done and, naturally, she dragged Emily down there as often as she could which Emily did her best to avoid.
Her mom tilted her head, her hand on her chin with a familiar look. "Emily, it would do you some good to go there as well, you know," she said. "Your hair's looking a little…much right now."
"I just came back from practice," Emily replied, patting her sweaty, flat mass. "I'd be surprised if it didn't look like this." She moved to the doorway, hoping she could have some uninterrupted alone time in her room, when the microwave dinged again, reminding her. And then her plans went out the window as she unthinkingly grabbed her cookie, ready to devour it.
"Uh uh," her mom said, snatching the treat from Emily's hands before she could put it in its new home. "You know how many calories those add, I tell you often enough. Here, eat this instead." She then shoved a green apple into Emily's hands.
"Mom!" Emily complained. "A cookie once in a while won't kill me. And really, a green apple? You know I hate these. Why don't you ever get the golden ones?"
"Green apples have been scientifically proven to help with weight loss," her mom said. "Now eat that or nothing. We have a photo shoot later today."
Emily gagged. If she'd eaten anything, it would have come back up. "What?"
"Oh I know, isn't it exciting?" her mom said gleefully, misunderstanding Emily's reaction. "Who knows, maybe you'll even make the cover this time."
"Mom, why would you book something for today?"
"Well, it's the only time they had available. I had to pull a lot of strings to get this gig, you know. It is sort of last minute, but they did love your previous work and so we should do this."
"Mom, we don't have time," Emily protested. "I mean, I just got home like two seconds ago. I also have homework to do."
"Oh, that doesn't matter," her mom waved that aside with an eye-roll as if it was just a minor irritation. "I'm sure your teachers will give you a break. This is very important for your future."
"Have you met my teachers?" Emily asked, though she already knew the answer to that.
"Look, honey, this is a golden opportunity for us," her mom said and Emily tried not to grimace at the word 'us.' "This is for Teen Vogue!"
Emily had to blink at that. "Wait, seriously? This is Teen Vogue?"
Her mom hesitated for a second. "Well, no," she admitted. "But it can lead to Teen Vogue. This will grab their attention, I'm sure. That's what matters. This is Teen Aura."
Emily paused at that. That actually was a good magazine, pretty popular with teen girls. And if she did make the front cover, that could likely lead to better opportunities. So maybe her mom was right. But did it have to happen now? Emily was exhausted after a long day at school and a long cheer practice. A modeling gig right after that might kill her. She just wanted to curl up on her bed and maybe binge some Grey's Anatomy. And sneak in some Doritos from her secret stash if she could.
"I think we will stop at the salon after all," her mom said, looking her up and down. "And we'll have to change your clothes, obviously. Can't show up to the shoot like that."
"This is my cheerleader uniform, Mom. I wasn't planning on staying in this all day."
"Hmm, and that hair will have to be fixed of course," her mom continued on. "Hopefully they can pick it up enough before we go. They are masters, so should work. And do we have time for a quick manicure," she said, analyzing Emily's nails. "No, I guess these will have to do."
"Why thank you mom," Emily told her, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Watch that sass, young lady," her mom said sharply. "You know I'm doing this for you, right?"
And for you, Emily thought, pursing her lips. Instead, she asked resignedly, "when is the shoot?"
"In an hour," her mom said. "So we'd better get a move on." She tilted her head again. "Maybe you should eat an apple now. Don't know what food they have there. But no cookies!" She said firmly. "You know the camera adds ten pounds."
"I don't think it happens right away."
"You don't know it doesn't either," her mom wagged her finger. "Now go change. Maybe that blue skirt Mabel got you. Yes, I think that will do nicely."
Emily knew her mom always won in the arguments in the end but she was so tired of all this right now. She was tempted to just tell her mom off, snatch a cookie, and walk away. But then her eyes drifted back to the cubby, to all the pictures that lined it, her mom scooching into every shot.
And the person who wasn't. The person who didn't care.
Emily felt that age-old anger boil up inside her but she quickly pushed it down, not ready to deal with that now. Or ever. "Ok," she said instead. "I'll go get ready."