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Description
        She just had to typecast herself in the role of spoilsport. Here I was, knee-deep in the most epic day of my life, and she just had to throw the lifesaver of mundanity my way. The phone had been surgically grafted to my mother's ear all afternoon as she tied up all of the loose ends, smoothed out all of the rough edges. Extinguished all the fires.

"He was incredibly reluctant, but I've managed to work out a special arrangement with Mr. Maloney." Her hair seemed different to me as she stepped out of her office. Greyer? "Suspension is off the table, under the condition that a chaperone accompanies you to class."

        "Okay, I'm 17. I don't need someone to nanny me for Christ's sake--"

        "Do not speak to me with that tone," her eyes burned holes in my skin. "Your scores were perfect. They wanted to write about it in the papers, Ellie. The papers. They called you a prodigy. The recipe for success at your fingertips--Why on earth would you..."

        "You don't get it. It was an epiphany. It was celebratory." The smoke emanating from my nostrils was almost visible as I sat there, fuming.

        "Celebratory? Honey, get some noisemakers and balloons. Don't run up to the front of the classroom and set your SATs on fire!"

        I felt the BIC lighter in my pants pocket and spoke slowly.

        "I am not a number."

        We could barely see each other through all of the smoke.

Description
        She just had to typecast herself in the role of spoilsport. Here I was, knee-deep in the most epic day of my life, and she just had to throw the lifesaver of mundanity my way. The phone had been surgically grafted to my mother's ear all afternoon as she tied up all of the loose ends, smoothed out all of the rough edges. Extinguished all the fires.

"He was incredibly reluctant, but I've managed to work out a special arrangement with Mr. Maloney." Her hair seemed different to me as she stepped out of her office. Greyer? "Suspension is off the table, under the condition that a chaperone accompanies you to class."

        "Okay, I'm 17. I don't need someone to nanny me for Christ's sake--"

        "Do not speak to me with that tone," her eyes burned holes in my skin. "Your scores were perfect. They wanted to write about it in the papers, Ellie. The papers. They called you a prodigy. The recipe for success at your fingertips--Why on earth would you..."

        "You don't get it. It was an epiphany. It was celebratory." The smoke emanating from my nostrils was almost visible as I sat there, fuming.

        "Celebratory? Honey, get some noisemakers and balloons. Don't run up to the front of the classroom and set your SATs on fire!"

        I felt the BIC lighter in my pants pocket and spoke slowly.

        "I am not a number."

        We could barely see each other through all of the smoke.