Stuck On You

I wasn’t the best role model. Although my mom would argue otherwise, she didn’t know the real me. There was a part of me itching to be let free, and it was about to get its chance. My mom only knew the perfect virgin Christian daughter that I portrayed for her benefit. I wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t even close to perfect. At least, that’s what I thought. She had a problem with letting go; literally. I was 18 and she still hovered like a helicopter. She was a helicopter mom.

“Call me and let me know as soon as you get settled in, and tell Quinn to speak too. Her mom and I are going to be here tonight,” my mom explained as she practically squeezed the life out of me. I gave a little grunt and hugged her back. Quinn’s mom was in a prayer group with my mom. They found every reason to hang out together. Our moms were like older religious versions of Quinn and I in a way.

“Mom, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you as soon as we get there,” I tried to assure her.

“And don’t forget that your first class is next week on Tuesday. Oh, and make sure to find a church down there. Tell me the name of it as soon as you find one,” she said, naming off her mental list. My mom was an assistant pastor at a church down here so church was very important to her. That was an issue for me, because I wasn’t religious at all. I couldn’t wait to sleep in on Sundays.

“Mom, I promise, I will be on time for my classes and I will go to church,” I said.

“Don’t sass me, Jordyn,” she said letting go of me. I chuckled and kissed her cheek.

Quinn is waiting for me downstairs,” I said. She sighed and gave me one last squeeze before she kissed my

you, Jordyn. Call me as soon as you get there!” she yelled after me as

dragging my last suitcase with me. I’d already put my other bags in the back of Quinn’s huge SUV. Like me, she was an only child, but my mom thought it would be best if we only took one car since we would

black Lincoln Navigator on her phone. Her mom had threatened to make her drive a small starter car to college, but, like always,

Navi,” I joked. Quinn rolled her

going together and needed the space for our stuff,” Quinn shrugged. Quinn and I had been best friends for years. I’d only moved to this area my 8th grade year, but she was my

perfect blonde locks bouncing around her shoulders. She pulled her sunglasses down over her perfect baby blue eyes before she drove

about my petite friend was perfect. She had a tiny figure with abs to kill for. She wasn’t too short or too tall. She always seemed to be tan. She had naturally

opposite of her. My mom was African-American and my dad was Irish. That left me with a caramel complexion, green eyes, and long very curly blondish-brown hair that hung past my shoulders. I had a stronger build. I had what I called, thunder thighs and

have an all-star in Cali,”