My Hello Kitty Bracelet

I knew it was going to be a bad day when I woke up and had two thoughts pounding inside me head; begging to come out.

Is the math test today or is it tomorrow?

It’s always “today” when you have to ask, isn’t it?

Okay then, I guess I better go get my Hello Kitty bracelet.

Most people wouldn’t understand why I would look for that bracelet and I don’t really care about those people; they don’t really know me.

About the bracelet. It’s pink, scratched up, and–to get the visual across—from a McDonald’s happy meal. I mean, we’re talking really cheap. The cost doesn’t really matter here, though because I didn’t buy it, and that’s why it’s so valuable to me. It’s more of a sentimental values.

The bracelet was given to me by my bestest—an inside joke between us—friend. I don’t know why I think the bracelet is lucky, I just do. Every time I am going to do something that will require me to perform exceptionally well to pass—like this math test—I always wear it. It makes me feel loved, more confident. Okay, it’s probably dumb, but whatever works, right?

Rolling out of bed, I opened the drawer where I kept it along with every drawing she’s made for me, along with a bunch of other stuff. They were all jokes that only made sense to her and me, worthless things except for the immense emotional value they held as memories.

I slid my hand into the usual place where I always left the bracelet, cushioned atop a grey beanie that I wore only once—the first day I straightened my hair.

What? It’s not there.

Pushing the mess of papers aside, even tossing some out of the drawer, I still couldn’t find it. But—it was always here. How was I supposed to pass my math test without it?

Panicking now, I went out to the living room where my mom was watching some random movie on HBO. “Mom, have you seen my Hello Kitty bracelet?”

“Do you mean the pink one that you keep in the drawer?”

“Yes that one!”

“You’re obsessed with that thing. You don’t need it.”

“But—but—you know how much it means to me.”

She flicks the channels; trying to avoid the topic from continuing further. “Yeah maybe too much. You think it’s the only reason you do well in school, and it’s not. You’re so smart—why can’t you give yourself credit?”

“Fuck, Mom. You’ve got the best way of making me feel better about myself, by making me feel ten times worse.”–sarcasm at its best.

Furious, I slammed my stuff into my backpack and left. I was almost to school—already late—when I realized that I’d forgotten my calculator. That was really going to help me in passing the test; no bracelet, no calculator, not going to pass.

Screw this. I should just skip the whole class. I’m going to fail anyways, without my bracelet. No wait, I’ll go, and fail, and show my mom how badly I did. She’ll regret what she did then, I bet.

Not my best plan ever, but it wasn’t like I had anything else to do.

….

“You can use your calculator’s on the test if you wish”

Oh, I do wish. In fact I would love to use my calculator. Too bad I don’t have it. Man, this is the worst. I hate my mom.

….
When I got home my mom still sitting on the couch watching TV, probably been there all day. Only getting up when her necessities called.

I threw my backpack on the floor; landing with a loud thump, awakening her from her zombie like state. “You happy now? I failed my test.”

“You failed? How can you even know that already?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure, but you threw away my bracelet, so I’m sure I did.” I slumped onto the floor. “Why’d you do that, Mom? It’s not just the luck part—you know Laken gave it to me.”

“I’m just doing what I see is fit for my son. I’m worried about you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I appreciate your way of showing motherly concern. Congratulations, you made your point. Too bad it made me fail my stupid math test. And since you threw it away, it’s gone forever.”

My mom shifted her weight on the couch; probably to keep your ass from going numb. “I lied.”

“What?”

“I lied. I didn’t throw your bracelet away; it’s right here.” She held it up between her thumb and middle finger, twisting it back and forth with the movement of her wrist. Handing it over with a smug expression, she said “Now when you pass that test, it will be because of you and not the bracelet.”

I grabbed it away from her. “You’re so freaking weird sometimes.” I stomped back to my room, still angry but relieved to have the reassuring weight on my bracelet on my wrist.

There is no way that I am going to pass that test. She has no earthly idea what she is talking about.

~

My math teacher e-mails us the results of our tests that same afternoon. I hate that; I’d be happier waiting until the next day to hear about my miserable faliure. Sighing, I clicked open the file. At least after seeing the results I will have a good reason to go scream at my mom.

“Carlos, I am very proud of you,” my teacher had written. “I know you’ve been struggling with math since the beginning, and when I saw you without your calculator, I was very concerned. However, you did very well today, getting an 87. Congratulations! Please remember to bring your calculator tomorrow, though. We are going to start working with something a little more complicated.”

My eyes were fixed on the computer screen; my mind looking for a way to make the situation turn in my favor.

Crap

Mom’s never going to let me hear the end of this.

Then I remember the bracelet on my wrist. Laken made it for me on our way home one day; I’d almost forgotten about it. It never comes off my hand so I had gotten used to it.

Oh man, mom is really going to like this one. It wasn’t the Hello Kitty bracelet after all; it was this one.

I’m glad that’s all over.

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