Disadvantage Poem by Sophia Ivanov

Safe and secure in your arms in the back of the Camaro
My stomach rocking back and forth as I imagine what is about to happen
When my mother sees you.
Her bleached-blonde hair will probably catch on fire.
She knows you only as Jay.
Not your real name.
I swear I wasn't hiding anything from her,
That's just what I call you.
Your mother drives, talking a mile a minute
Blouse swishing around, bangles flying
About how excited she is.
You look in my eyes and understand,
Although your mother would never be half so crazy.

The doorbell rings.
Your mother stands there with a lasagna,
Smiling with her bright and innocent nature.
My sleepy, gorgeous younger sister answers the door and her eyes widen.
She knows,
Bless her.
Reluctantly, without looking at me, she hollers for Mom.
Mom, perfectly made-up and dressed in a pale-pink pantsuit,
Rushes up and her Botoxed face falls when she sees you,
Your proprietary arm around me.

Lunch is, to say the least, awkward.
Our mothers startled by the strange new person
They identify as a fellow member of the species.
My mother scraping the bottom of the barrel for things to talk to you about
College plans? U of I. Sports? Soccer. Grades? A's.
And not looking me in the eye,
Because I'll pay for it later.

After the screaming has quieted,
The slamming doors finally stopped rattling
Juliet separated from her Romeo for the first time,
My sister's waist length blonde hair swishes through my bedroom door and she flicks on the light.
Exposing me as I keen like a banshee
And get soaking mascara all over the pillowcases.
She runs her cool hand over my red forehead and smiles.
'Don't you ever forget;
His name is Sanjay.'