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Patsy bursts through the door, haggard and angry. She wants to shout and scream and claw at the walls, but when she sees her mother, all that comes out is a rasp, "Why would you do that?"
"Do what?" Dorothy replies, false innocence dripping from her mouth like honey. Patsy hates when she gets like this.
"Lie," Patsy spits, "Or manipulate, or whatever it is you do. Chet didn't write those papers. I did. I made a fuck ton of money and I don't regret it." She really doesn't. She'd regret it even less if she actually was able to get into trouble.
"Patricia, don't swear," Dorothy chides, "You're a good girl. I know you don't mean what you're saying. I get that you're trying to rebel, all teenagers do, but there's no point. You'll always be a good girl."
Patsy explodes. Grips and tears at her hair, screams as much as she can, "I don't want to be a good girl! I want, consequences for my actions, I'm tired of being perfect no matter what I do! I want to mess up once up in a while!"
"Oh, Patricia, you don't understand. I'm only trying to protect you," Dorothy sighs, "Just…go to your room."
Patsy obeys, stomping every step of the way. She's a good girl, after all.