When I pulled up the driveway, I knew that I was screwed. It was after midnight, Mom had probably seen my grade for that test on the school website, and … I sorta smelled like those Poison boys, drenched in the thick scent of weed and smoke and sin.
Mom stood outside the front door with her plush pink robe, slippers, and headscarf on. With her arms crossed over her chest, she stared pointedly at me with her jaw clenched and her nostrils flared.
Fuck.
Fuck.She was pissed.
I turned the car off and sat in the cold, hoping that she’d get too cold and walk back inside the house. I could sneak through the back door, run up to my room, and lock my door, saving myself a few moments of her scolding.
“Get your ass out of the car, Imani Abara!”
After bracing myself for the worst of the worst, I
