8.14 Part One: Recital Night and Phoebe

Phoebe's POV, before the recital...

 

  I stared at myself in the mirror, pausing to pat down a blonde piece of hair that had escaped my hours of styling. I normally didn't care about my appearance; it was the room I designed that need to look breathtaking, not me. But tonight was special, tonight was the ballet studio's open house and Marlo, who had apparently become a star pupil and Madame something-or-other-pretentious-French-name's pet, was performing a short routine to try and convince all the other parents to sign their child up for overpriced private lessons. Marlo, who had always been mom's favorite, had convinced her to show up to the recital, which was rather surprising considering that in the four and a half years since the divorce, if it wasn't a birthday or major holiday mom was a no show on the days that weren't death out to her.
   Of course, when Marlo needs someone to help her be a pain in the butt, high maintenance twelve year old mom waltzes in with high end makeup and glittery costumes makeup made from freaking diamond powder. I went to the freshman dance two months ago because Kathleen, my best friend since seventh grade, thought that Quentin was going to ask me to dance and was just being shy. He didn't, though and while I like the keep thinking it was because he was shy, the fact that I used one of my oil pastels for blush and a charcoal pencil for eyeliner, which than triggered break outs I didn't know we're humanly possible, probably didn't help either. Mom didn't help me then with my makeup, yet Marlo gets powdered diamond. I wasn't jealous; I knew mom was materialistic and self center, this was probably why she and dad called it quits, yet I couldn't help and hope at one day she'd mature.
    Hair in place, check. Outfit... Presentable. I looked fourteen and I suppose looking your age is good. I wasn't grown up and cool like the effortlessly gorgeous girls I wanted to mimic, not too young like the immature girl who were perpetually stuck in the world of BFFs and recess gossip from years ago, and definitely not slutty grown up like the cheerleaders and Aberzombie and Bitch wearers. This would have to do.

   "Pho!" I heard Marlo sequel, as she bounded into the room like a gazelle.
   "Hey, how do I look?" I turned to face her, showing off my apparel.
   "That's such a good color on you! And you're so thin…" She sighed, glancing down at her stomach. "I mean this," she pointed at her stomach, "c'mon."
   "You're in seventh grade. Relax." I rolled my eyes. Whenever she had to do a larger performance, she always freaked out about her appearances. I didn't understand why; she was more athletic than most kids out age and ate super healthy, but I suppose if I were in the spotlight I'd want to look perfect, too.
   "Yeah… I just. Ugh, everyone's so cut throat. One mess up and all of a sudden I'm not he one…" She drifted off, like she usually did whenever we began talking about anything involving her ballet.
   "When's mom coming over?"
   "Oh, she, um, she texted me and she said that something came up so she can't make it, but we can still spend the night at her house and watch a chick flick and give each other pedicures."
   "I'm sorry. That sucks." I tried to sound sympathetic, but in truth hit sounded just like mom to pull something like that. I wish she wouldn't hurt Marlo, though; she had yet to figure out her ways.
   "Yeah, but whatever. I mean she was going to do my hair and makeup and stuff, but whatever. Dad's coming."
   "Yeah. And so am I and we're all proud of you. We don't need mom there, do we?"

   "I do!" She gasped, suddenly offended. Crud. I wanted to sound supportive and uplifting, not mean. "You know, just because mom actually likes me doesn't mean you have to be all ugh about her."
   "Mom likes me…" I wouldn't let her play Barbie with me, but that didn't mean that she didn't like me. I had some issues with her flakiness and attitude, but she was my mother.
   "Yeah. Keep telling yourself that." And with that she pranced away, just like my pity for her did.

After the Performance...

   Marlo was perched on the lacy forest green and white duvet that covered the twin bed in our room. Or at least, it was suppose to be our room, in all reality in was in mother's house- we were being forced to have mother and daughters night at her house, it was her pitiful way of trying to makeup for missing the ballet recital- therefore she was the one who got to decorate it and decide what went in it and what didn't. I turned my head away from her; she had yet to apologize for saying mom didn't like her, so I had given her  the cold shoulder during her recital. She had done well, that was undeniable, yet I wasn't going to inform her of the fact. She didn't need her head to become any larger.
   "I'm finished with the bathroom." I coldly announced. 
   "Okay..." She replied, glancing down at her hands. "Daddy said he was going to drop off my toothbrush; I forgot it at home."
   "Okay." We looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, before I broke down and began speaking. "You did good tonight."
   "Thanks."

   "Will you text dad, ask him to bring over my phone charger? I forgot it in my bedroom."
   "Sure... or you can just borrow my phone." She shrugged. "It's on the nightstand." I walked over to the stand and picked up her iPhone, unlocked it, and iMessaged our dad, who quickly replied.
   "He says he'll be here in about ten minutes, close to ten-thirty." 

   "Pho..." She said, as she stood up off the bed. "I..."
   "Yeah?"
   "Well, um... Look, I'm sorry I was so rude to you."
   "It's whatever... But, thanks."
   "I know I piss you off a lot and I don't mean to, usually."
   "You're my little sister. You're suppose to be a pain."
   "I'm not like, little, anymore. I'm in seventh grade."

   "Doesn't matter, what grade you're in, you're always gonna be my little sister, Marlo."
   "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" She said, jokingly. 
   "Depends on how annoying you are, because trust me, high schools taught me how to really up the bitch mode." And with that, all was well; we may push each other's buttons at time, but our anger and grudges never lasted too long. As tragic as it sounds, we've actually gotten closer since our parents called it quits.

Author's Note: Heeeey, long time no see... Sorry about that. School and all that stuff's been *rambles on about personal life*. So, yeah. Anyways, I'm going to be releasing several chapters centered around Marlo's ballet recital from multiple character's POVs and all the chapter will be titled 8.14 Part ___: Recital Night and ___.  Also, on a random note, how many of you use Tumblr? Also, the bigger pictures yay or nay?