Teaser Thursday- Nail Polish and Feathers

Nail Polish and Feathers_200

I didn’t say any of that to Mom. She wouldn’t have understood. “It’s not just any boa, Mom. It belonged to Queen Regna.”

She didn’t watch the drag show, but she knew who Queen Regna was. Most people did. Regna was the most famous drag queen in America and had been in show business since before I was born. She’d even had a daytime talk show on one of the big networks. It was hard not to know who she was.

She snorted. “You really think that belonged to Queen Regna, don’t you? That’s what these online auctions do. They snow people like you who get so excited about the possibility of having the property of someone famous that they don’t even stop to think about how improbable it is.”

“There are all kinds of charity auctions and stuff that sell things that belong to famous people,” I argued.

“And did you get this from one of them?”

“No.” I had to admit the truth, but I wasn’t willing to let Mom harsh my happiness any more than I’d been willing to let Holly. “Last season, Regna wore a boa that looked exactly like this one. I believe this is the one she wore. That’s why I bought it, and that’s what I’m going with.”

She held up her hands. “Fine. Believe what you want. Just keep in mind that if you waste your money on things like this, that’s less money you have for things you need, and I’m not going to cover for you.”

“I know. I didn’t ask you to.” I’d learned not to ask Mom for money unless it was for something vital.

“Okay.” She drank her coffee, ate a spoonful of cereal, then stood. “I have to get going. I really think you should reconsider wearing that to school, Evan. People are going to give you a hard time about it. And if it really is Queen Regna’s, do you want to take a chance on having it destroyed at school? Wouldn’t it be smarter to leave it home?”

“It’s for school colors day,” I said stubbornly. “It’s the right shade of blue, and everyone’s going to be dressing more fancy than usual. That’s part of what we do for Spirit Week. You know that.” From what I’d heard, Spirit Week hadn’t changed much in the twenty-something years since Mom had graduated.

“Your choice. I don’t want to hear about it if something happens to that thing.” She dumped the rest of her cereal down the garbage disposal and rinsed the cup and bowl. “And I don’t want any calls from school telling me that you’re disrupting classes again.”

“I didn’t disrupt classes last year.” It hadn’t been my fault that some of the kids in my geometry class had decided to start a coughing fit that consisted of them “coughing” words like “gay” and “queer.” I’d gotten the blame for it because supposedly they did it because I’d worn a pair of capris to school. I didn’t understand what else the school had expected when they’d declared we couldn’t wear shorts. Girls were allowed to wear capris and skirts, so I’d followed along. They should have been glad I hadn’t worn a skirt.