Becoming the Luna

"I don't know." I say for the umpteenth time to my mom who's staring at me with a suspicious look in her narrow grey eyes.

"So a bruise just fell from the sky and appeared on your neck, huh? Huh?" She questions me.

I avert my face, I'm a very bad liar and it gets even worse when I have to lie to my mom but I'd rather chew my favorite pair of jeans than tell her how I got the bruise.

"No mom, I just woke up, I don't know about bruises falling from the sky." Luckily my scary ability to bruise easily had distorted the tiny hickey into a neck wide bruise so it saved me from her guessing the true reason for my bruise.

She hums and inspects my neck closer and I stiffen, hoping she doesn't see teeth marks if they are still there. "Come closer baby." She says, sounding worried.

I do as she says. "What's wrong mom?"

Luckily the three crazy people in my life had left by the time I woke up and I came out to see my mom eating popcorn and watching TV because I wasn't interested in them worrying about me too.

"I don't know love."  She pulls me even closer. "Come on, sit in my lap." She urges, grabbing the hem of the sweater I have on to pull it over my head.

I have no idea how she even saw the bruise, I mean I wore a turtle neck but apparently, moms have x-ray vision.

"I'm starting to get worried now." She hums gently. "Wait, let me try something." She says, wrapping a palm around my arm and applying pressure.

"Mom? What are you doing?" I ask curiously.

"Just wait." After she applies pressure for a while, she takes her hand away and we both watch the skin underneath slowly redden then darken into a bruise.

"Whoa!" I whisper, gaping. That is definitely not normal.

"Is something wrong with me?" I look up at my mother's worried eyes and feel my heart sink, even newborn babies don't bruise this easily.

I know I've always been an easy bruiser but recently it drastically worsened, a rough grip is enough to have me bruising like I was hit with a metal bat. The bruise itself is scary, a wide patch of dark blues, blacks, and faint hues of red.

"I hope not baby, I'll have to set an appointment with the doctor."

I remain quiet as she gently helps me back into the big sweater. "Doctor Rizha?" I ask softly, she is our family doctor and even though I hadn't been to see her in a while I still remember the sturdy and no-nonsense lady.

"Yes."

"But I have exams coming up and the Spring Dance." I quickly object, an appointment with Doctor Rizha meant that I had to spend at least three days in the city with my Grammy and right now I couldn't afford to spend so much time away.

My mom sighs heavily and her eyes drift down to my neck. "I know, we'll just have to be careful for the next two weeks." She says decisively. "As soon as the holidays begin, we're booking an appointment."

"That could work." I say absently, it would be the first time in a while that I'd sleep outside Pine Creek and I'm not even looking forward to the Doctor's appointment. 

Hopefully, nothing will be wrong and it'll just be a symptom of maybe… puberty. I hope so, I've been waiting for it to hit for a really long time.

I smile sadly at my thoughts, I have a feeling this isn't what I hope it is.

"Don't tell Virgil or Shana…" My mom is about to say something but I cut her off before she can. "Don't tell Dale either." I say quickly.

"Why?" She pouts, her sharp eyes not softened by this childish expression.

"At least not now." I correct, then get up from her lap. "I don't want them to be worried, they all have upcoming exams too and it wouldn't be nice if you just told them now, could you at least wait till after the appointment? When we know for sure what's wrong?" I ask seriously.

"But what am I supposed to tell them when we're leaving?" She asks with equal seriousness, looking bothered.

I almost laugh at this. "That we're going to visit Grammy, what else? We are, technically, we'll spend the time at her house anyway."

"That could work." She says uncertainly.

"Mom, they're teenagers, they can't hurt you." I tell her.

"Don't be a pest." She gets up and ruffles my hair. "I heated some leftovers and fed Apple so come and eat." She informs me.

"Oh, how did you know I was looking for her?" I ask, letting her pull me to the kitchen.

"You were doing that thing again where you just swerve your head around thinking what you're looking for will pop up in your face." She snorts.

I make a face, red dusting my cheeks. "I don't do… any of that." I mumble, sliding into a stool on the kitchen island.

"Of course." She agrees with no small amount of sarcasm, placing a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs in front of me.

"Mom I don't want chopsticks." I whine at the eating equipment she placed inside the bowl. "Why can't I use a fork?"

She gapes. "What are you? A barbarian? Why in heavens name would you use a fork to eat spaghetti?" She asks me with an intense look of disgusted disbelief on her pretty face.

I just facepalm - gently - it wouldn't help if I end up walking around with a fat ass bruise on my face.

"Mom, that's exactly what you use to eat spaghetti, it's not like I'm eating noodles plus I know you just want to see the meatball get stabbed with a chopstick."  I accuse her with a slight glare.

"So you'll use the chopsticks?" She asks hopefully.

I give her a blank look. "No." I say shortly, getting up instead to get a fork for myself. 

"Why don't you just eat too so you can stab the meatballs yourself?" I ask reasonably.

"I really want to." She half wails, looking very forlorn. "But I'm on a diet."

The fork in my hand slips and falls on the ground at her last words. "Excuse me, what??" I blink at her. "What the hell are you dieting for? To get rid of your big eyes??" I tease savagely - actually I'm worried, my mom struggled with body dysmorphia when she was younger.

"Don't be a meanie." She whines like my younger sister. "Aren't I getting a little puffy?" She asks, her tone very serious.

I make a show of looking her over then come back to the stool to stab a meatball with one chopstick and pop it into her mouth. "Unless we're talking about your bed hair, I don't see any puffiness."

She pouts in an exaggerated fashion but I don't miss the tell take twinkle in her eyes as I tell her this. "I never get bed hair." She replies with conviction around her chewing.

I turn my head to her slowly with an incredulous look on her face. "Do you want me to bring out the album?" I threaten and she looks away.

"You still have that??!" She half wails.

"Of course." I say proudly, kicking my head up a bit. "I spent a lot of work compiling those pictures, why would I delete them? They're quality blackmail material." I conclude.

She just gives me a look and gets up to get herself a bowl of spaghetti too.

I secretly smile at this, it had been work to get those pictures because I had to wake up really early to catch her while she was still asleep, granted she wasn't exactly an early riser but so was I. What can I say? We aren't morning people.

Exams would begin soon then I had the doctor's appointment which hopefully wouldn't take too long, that weekend would be the Spring Dance and I still didn't know my date.

I wonder if Shana and Virgil had been in when Dale and I got back, I shake my head with the effort of trying to remember, it strains me. Plus if anything important happens I could simply ask Dale tomorrow at school, it's just a little worrisome that I can't seem to remember a thing.

"So how did your date go?" My mom asks curiously after she had gotten her bowl of food, chopsticks in her hand like a psychopath.

I cringe into myself wondering just where I would begin from. "I-It wa-was n-ni...nice." I stutter and she gives me a suspicious look.

"Okay, so… I need details." She says seriously, stabbing a meatball. "Every. Single. Detail." With each word, the poor meatball gets another hole.

"Fine." I mutter under my breath, Shana was going to hear this too tomorrow so I was going to need to practice a bit.