After skipping to her door and down the hall, April descended the stairs slowly, like the scene from a movie when in act five the transformed heroine enters the ballroom and everyone turns and sees her with new eyes. Except, of course, to her family that she looked exactly like she did all the time, so nobody cared or looked. A little disheartening, but there were pancakes, so it was fine.
April was finding it hard to make her way through the second pancake. Jon could eat three, no problem, but April had a bit smaller of a stomach. Mom had raised an eyebrow as she had taken two, but hadn’t said anything beyond that. But she was involved in the perpetual school day battle of getting Zoe ready and downstairs before they had to go.
April was not ready for Zoe’s appearance. It was drastically different from her normal black and fishnet chic that she normally wore. Instead, she had a plaid skirt, a white button-up blouse, and a red jacket. Exactly what April was wearing. Which made sense, thinking about it. Zoe was in the 9th grade, so Jon hadn’t ever seen her in the halls, but she did attend Lakeview High. Which meant she was also required to wear the uniform that April had forced on the students.
She held in a snicker with Herculean effort, then passed Mickey the last half of her pancake before she burst into laughter. April would have seen this a hundred times. Laughing at it was out of character, and so April wouldn’t laugh. Easy enough.
Okay, hard enough. But April held her stoic face all the way to her first new day of school.
