How Many Girls Are Mom? Essay
“I only invited a couple dozen girls and their parents, Mackenzie. You will be polite and have a good time.”
Two-dozen girls? Kill me now.
“What made you think I would enjoy this?” I asked. “I don’t know any of these people.”
“Your father has been the Pastor at this church for four months now. You do know them. Maybe not as well as you should, but you do know them.”
“Mom, just because we go to church with them doesn’t mean I know them or want to know them.”
“We’ve been in South Carolina since the middle of May and you need to find some girlfriends.” She thought she was helping me, I know, but still. “Mackenzie, you need to branch out.”
I took a deep breath. “Mom, I like my life the way it is—it’s uncomplicated, plain, and simple. My books are my friends."
“You had friends in Lubbock.” My mother let out a sigh.
My shoulders slumped. “I had a friend in Lubbock, and she sailed the good ship Brad to Relationship Island never to be heard from again." “I’m just afraid you’re becoming withdrawn like you were before. School is starting on Monday. Don’t you think it’d be nice to, at least, have a few acquaintances?”
“Why? So I have someone to say goodbye to the next time we move.”
My mom stopped what she was doing, narrowed her eyes, and tightened her jaw. “MacKenzie.”
I quickly realized I’d crossed a line so I fell back to my tried and true argument. “Plus, you know I don’t like large crowds."
“You know, most girls want their sixteenth birthday party to be…