Chapter 13: Freshman Princess

_It was her Carrie moment…. Like the movie Carrie. They did it so they could humiliate her. The musketeers found out and warned her. She dropped out before they could do their plan. – Becks to Eliza_

Afternoons always seemed to be a little hectic at the Lowery compound. Not that any other time was calmer, but the afternoons seemed to stand out since everyone seemed to be awake and moving around. Game nights seemed to be even worse.

Charlotte would always come to stay with the babies and those not attending school. While she was there, Becks would go get the youngest of the littles at the elementary school. Yvonne drove the ones attending middle school home since her family’s restaurant was only a few blocks from the campus. Depending on how busy the restaurant was, she would go back to work if needed.

Tammy would pick up the junior high kids that stayed after for athletics, theater and whatever reason they had stayed late. She hated the phrase middle school and always called it junior high, even though they all attended Nathaniel Hawthorne Middle School. Michaela would pick up Eliza if Priscilla had a game or was busy with the newspaper after school.

Alicia was the only one who did not pick anyone up from school. She worked at Patch’s animal hospital and rescue center, which was located between the farm and the city limits. Because of this, she rarely went into town. And she was okay with that.

The Friday before Homecoming week of Priscilla’s junior year, she drove Eliza home and her sister’s usual bubbly personality was in overdrive. The older sister was ready to strangle the younger one by the time that they walked into the big house.

Priss loved her sister. Eliza never doubted this fact. But the oldest child was also sixteen years old and sometimes plotted the death and demise of one or more of her younger siblings.

Today was the day for Eliza to be the sibling.

For the entire ride home, she had bounced and said that she had something exciting to tell everyone. Last time she was this excited, she had been voted captain of the freshman cheer squad. Please, Priscilla pleaded to any deity that might be listening, let it be something other than cheer squad.

Eliza bounced into the house and Priscilla was certain that someone should play the ‘Tigger Song’ for the second-oldest daughter.  They entered the kitchen where Yvonne and Becks were serving apple slices to the younger kids.

Grabbing a whole apple from the bowl, Priscilla asked, “Where’s daddy?”

“Last I saw, he was on his way in.” Yvonne offered her daughter the apple slicer, but Priscilla shook her head no.

With all the kids having a snack, Becks turned her attention back to dinner already on the stove. Priscilla knew that dinner would be early tonight because she would need to be at the game for the newspaper and Eliza would be there with the cheer squads.

_Go school spirit_, she thought wryly with a mental eye roll.

Eliza excitedly asked, “What about the other moms?”

“Momma A is upstairs taking a shower.” Becks stirred the macaroni and then pulled the biscuits out of the oven to cool on the counter. “Which of your mommas do you need?”

“Actually, I need all of you,” Eliza said with a giant grin and little bounce.

Priscilla rolled her eyes. Whatever the announcement was, she was already over it. Knowing that Eliza was notorious for dramatics, she gave Becks a small smirk.

“Your dad and Momma T are in the shower too.” Becks told Eliza and gave Priscilla a warning look. All that the matriarch got from the oldest daughter was a little laugh.

Priscilla had a mouthful of apples when she stated, “Camille wants to know if she can come use our computer to do something. I think hers is acting up.”

“Only if you can talk without food in your mouth,” Yvonne scolded.

The fourth Jack Russell dog that was rarely seen, Ten Millimeter, bolted down the stairs and dashed over to Eliza. She picked up the small tricolored dog and snuggled the excited dog as he squirmed in her arms before she put him back down.

Before replying, Priscilla took another big bite; “I’ll tell her no.”

“Yes, she can,” Molly’s voice boomed across the lower floor as he and Tammy came downstairs. “And you will clean the kitchen by yourself tonight.”

“Daddy!” Priscilla whined, drawing the short out to a ridiculous length.

“No, ma’am.” He sat in his oversize chair at the bar with two of the smaller little pretties climbing into his lap. “That was disrespectful to your Momma Yvonne. I won’t have it.”

With tears filling her eyes, she looked at Yvonne, who gave her a little shrug as if to tell her suck it up, buttercup. Receiving no help, she looked towards Tammy, who simply shook her head.

“Momma Bec-“

“No, ma’am.” Pulling the last of the fried chicken from the deep fryer, she gave no sympathy to the oldest child. “You know better than to be so blatantly disrespectful to anyone. Especially one of your mommas or your daddy.”

Eliza looked at her sister and gave a sympathetic smile, “I’ll help you.”

Priscilla looked hopefully at her dad as Alicia and Michaela entered the kitchen. After giving his pretties their evening kisses, he finally responded to Priscilla, “If she wants to help she can.”

Eliza bounced excitedly on the other side of the kitchen island. “Yay! I need you to take some really good pictures that I can submit to the committee.”

Always the multitasker, Becks looked at the list on the refrigerator. “What committee? Amanda, Fatima, set the table.”

Priscilla looked over to see when her next night for kitchen duty would be. Monday. And because Camille was almost always there on the weekends, she was scheduled for Saturday night.

“We did, momma.” Fatima answered, the new gap from her missing baby tooth causing her to have a small lisp.

“I just need to get the water pitchers.” Amanda grabbed the two water pitchers from the commercial refrigerator.

Squealing, Eliza bounced as she looked at her older sister, “I got nominated for homecoming court! Freshman princess!”

Time stopped for Priscilla and the memory of her own freshman year flooded her. Blindly, she walked over and threw away her apple core, hoping that it made it into the trash can. Tears filled her eyes as she made her way out of the front door.

She made it to the bench on the porch before the first tear fell. The memories of her freshman year flooded through her. The bullying, the teasing. Snide remarks. Fake dates. Online stalking. Social media lies. Faked pictures.

Often, she wondered if her parents knew just how bad it had gotten. If they knew that the musketeers nearly got suspended for fighting because of her.

Molly sat down on the bench and pulled her into his lap. Curling into his chest, she grabbed his shirt and buried her face as the tears fell. Her body shook with quiet sobs while his arms encircled her.

“Go ahead, little Prissy girl, cry it all out.”

He kissed the top of her head and held her while she cried. He held her for quite a while before she stopped crying and finally spoke.

“Does she not know what happened my freshman year?”

“Honestly,” her father answered softly, “probably not.”

“But how?”

“How does she not know? Is that what you’re asking?”

“Yeah,” she nodded against his chest.

He pulled a bandanna out of his pocket and handed it to her, “It’s clean.”

“Thanks,” she said as she blew her nose on the blue material.

“Do you know everything that goes on in your sisters' lives?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that,” he rested his chin on her head. “Did you know that one of your sisters is on anxiety medication?”

She sat up and looked at him. “Who?”

He shook his head, “She doesn’t want anyone to know. She’s embarrassed by it.”

“Oh, no. I didn’t know.”

She laid back against his chest and he settled her under his chin again. “I know that we are all up in each other’s business, and sometimes it’s like you can’t get any time or space for yourself. But everyone has their own secrets, and you’re all allowed to have them.”

“I’m happy for her because I know that her friends nominated her because they like her…”

“But it still hurts.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I don’t want her to have high school years like mine. I want her experiences to be better. I want all of theirs to be better. No one should…”

He waited for her to finish her sentence. When she did not, he gently prodded, “No one should what?”

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and softly admitted, “Want to die because of high school.”