“This week we are going to be discussing careers,” Blah blah blah blah blah! It all went in one ear and out the other. But that’s what happens when you have Mrs. Sanchez. I started doodling again on my binder. The bell soon rang, and I got my books together. “Tonight, I want all of you to find out what your parents do, and write at least 2 paragraphs on it.” Mrs. Sanchez said as I walked out the door. Fun! More homework to do. I headed to my locked to get my books for 7th period, Social studies, how fun.
I guess I should introduce my self, shouldn’t I? Well let’s start out with the basics, shall we? I’m Laura MacKenzie; I’m about 5’8”, with brown hair just past my shoulder blade, and hazel eyes. Though they tend to be a green color in the winter, and fall. I definitely don’t get them from my mother, probably from my father… but I never knew my father. Guess I should explain that huh?
Well my mother did what most parents would never allow she was a teenage parent. She was only 15 when she had me; she told me my dad was 16. He didn’t abandon us, my mother told him to go to Florida and follow his dreams… so he did. Leaving us behind, that’s all I know about him. I have a picture of him, my mom, and me what I was only 2 hours old. No memories, just the picture.
Anyways, back to the intro. I have naturally tan skin, that’s definitely from my dad. His skin is much darker than my mothers. I also have well defined cheekbones, and did I mention a very big mouth? Guess not. I’m usually very loud, but like everyone, I do have my quiet moments, just not that often. J I’m 13 and in 8th grade. Sadly, no boyfriend, at the moment, but that cause I’d never go out with the majority of my grade. They’re mostly all assholes with raging hormones, and very short. The whole height thing gets me mostly. Majority are only 5 foot. Oh well, sucks for them!
“Mandah!” I screamed down the hall at my best friend, walking out of 8th period. AH, school’s over, thank god! Only 1 more day ‘til the break.
“Hey girlie, what up?” she asked.
“Not much, overly tired. Do you know if girls b-ball was canceled?” Did I mention I was the caption of girls’ basketball team? No? Oops!
“I think so, but please stay with me? Gotta cheer for boys.” Amanda was a cheerleader, so where a lot of my other friends, but why cheer on the side when you could be in the game? I’ll never figure that out! I decided to stay after with her. I watched the game, our school lost. That’s what you get when you send a guy to do a girl’s job.
It was cold out, and of course, my mother was late. But I didn’t care. The other school’s guys were all hot. My mom soon pulled up in her little BMW, so I had to say good-bye to the hotties. Damn. “Hey Mommasita!” I said climbing into the car.
“Hey sweat-heart,” she said kissing my cheek.
“Girl, if you left lipstick on my cheek I’ll kill ya,” I joked. That was the type of relationship my mother and me had with one another. We were the bestest of friends, and acted more like sisters than anything.
“Whatever,” she said rolling her eyes. “What do you want for dinner? My wonderful cooking, take-out, or Mickey D’s?”
“Uh, just go to the deli. Got homework to do, and would rather go home and chill with MTV.”
“Too bad, do the homework fast, cause we’re watching She’s All That.”
“Freddie?” I said my eye lighting up.
“Hell yeah!” she said. My mother and I both decided Freddie Prinze Jr. was officially the hottest man to walk the face of this earth. So that’s just what we did. We stopped at the local deli, grabbing food, and then went back home, for a night filled with fattening foods, Freddie, and of course… math. GAG ME!
“Mommy!!!!” I whined from my room. Ah, the joys of school. I think that was my cue to roll my eyes.
“What?” she whined back.
“I need you!”
“And I need Freddie! Your point?”
“Very funny, no, I need help with homework.” I said coming out of my room finally. “I need to know what you and Daddy did, do… whatever the hell the word is,” I said. Though I never knew him, he’d always be called Daddy to me.
“You don’t know what I do?” she asked me. I could tell she didn’t want to talk about my dad, she never did. I knew she missed him, never dated another guy since I was born.
“I know you’re something that pays big money, but… what does Daddy do? WHO is Daddy?”
“Damn, I knew this day would come, but why so soon?”
“Mommy!!!”
“Ok, ok…here, tomorrow night, we’re going.” She said handing me a pair of concert tickets and backstage passes.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said, reading what they were for. “There is no way I’m going to a Backstreet Boys concert!”
I did not want to be here!!!! I would do anything to leave right now. And of course, no bridge nearby that I could go jump off of. I would have to stay here, the whole 3 hours or however long the concert lasted. Thankfully it was soon over, fun, now I have to go backstage. Er! Someone just kill me now!
“I have to go?” I whined to my mother.
“Yes, now go get in line,” she said pushing me in line behind a bunch of teenyboppers. The last people I wanted to see at this time.
“Hey! Who’s your favorite? I love Nick!” some girl no older than 10 shrieked at me.
“Uh, yeah, well then, SO MA!” I said turning away from the teenyboppers. I scanned the room, there were mainly 5 year olds with their mothers, but I did see a few girls that looked my age if not older. I walked over to them and made small talk, until the door opened. Everyone shrieked, except for me, who just rolled my eyes and walked back over to my mother. She seemed to be in a deep conversation with this short Latino guy.
“Ma. MA!” I said tapping my foot at her. “Can we leave now?”
“Hold on sweat heart,” she said going back to talking as if she knew these people for the longest time.
“I take it she’s not a fan?” the short guy asked.
“Not at all, I kinda made her come, because I need her to meet someone here,” my mother explained.
“Oh, gotcha, anyways, I gotta go on to the teenies. See ya later.” He told her walking away.
“Oh god! You just have to flirt don’tcha!” I said rolling my eyes.
“That wasn’t flirting!!” she told me, before drifting off as the door opened again, and in walked a tall man, with dark hair, and green eyes. He looked familiar to me, but I didn’t know where from. What the hell am I talking about? He’s a Backstreet Boy, of course he’s gonna look familiar!
“Kevin,” she whispered. I looked at her strangely, but ignored it. She was too quiet for herself, even though she is never really that loud. The total opposite of me actually, really quiet, and shy. Oh well!
He made his way down the line, signing autographs, and madding small talk with different fans. Then he came to my mother and froze. “Krissy…” he whispered.
“And you are?” I asked him, bringing them out of a daze.
“Laura,” my mother said kicking my leg.
“Ow!” I complained. I wanted to leave so bad!
“Kevin, um, this, is your um, daughter,” my mother muttered to him.
“WHAT?” was my reply, I couldn’t believe it. My mother had kept from me that my dad was a pop superstar. Ugh! This is just what I wanted in my life. Can you sense the sarcasm here?
“Kris, meet me in the back, I gotta finish this,” he said tears forming in his eyes. Then a security guard came to us and escorted us into a dressing room.
“Great! This is just what I need in my life! A pop superstar as my father!” I said plopping my ass down on a nearby chair. “You knew about this the whole time too, didn’t you?” I asked becoming upset with my mother for keeping this from me. So I was sounding like a bitch the past day? Who the hell cared?
“Yes,” she sighed. Just then 4 guys walked into the room all sitting down in different spots around the room, one almost on me.
“Watch it bucko!” I screamed, pushing someone’s ass out of my face.
“Who are you?” the owner of the ass asked me. He was tall, with blonde hair. Fun, another stupid one!
“Should I be asking you the same question?” I asked standing up, looking him straight in the eyes. Thank you god for platforms!
“You mean you don’t know who I am?”
“No, should I?” He was taken aback by this, looks like I hit a soft spot! Just then my father walked in.
“Nick, get your face out of hers now!” he ordered him. So blondie backed down, sitting next to a guy with various tattoos and green hair.
“Dude, love the hair,” I said to him.
“Thanks, Kev, who’s the chick?” he asked my father.
“That would be my daughter… Laura Jeanne Richardson.” he trailed off.