this world of broken people

Chapter 2- Fashion Statements by Orphans

Chapter 2- Fashion Statements by Orphans

 

“Would you like to buy some lemonade?” Andy asked a lady and her toddlers as she walked through the garage sale. She gave us a tight smile and shook her head like almost everyone else we asked, and then walked towards the house identical to every other one in this portion of the community. Two pillars outside the front door, a garage on the left side, and two stories and painted tan, my house and Andy’s house looked exactly like it.

Both of us always found it a bit irksome how all the houses looked the same. Even then, we loved originality.

Andy sighed and lightly banged his ten-year-old head on the table. We were selling lemonade at Andy’s neighbor’s garage sale (with their permission, of course) to save up and buy him a new scooter. His dad had run over his old one with his truck a few weeks earlier.

“I’m tired of not selling anything,” he whined, his thin lips pulled into a playful frown.

I yanked gently on his sweaty hair. “Suck it up, or else I’m gonna have a scooter and you aren’t.” I smirked for a second. “And I won’t let you play with my hamster.”

He pulled his head up from the table and gapes at me. “That’s mean, Lottie,” he said and then matched my smirk. “The hamster likes me more than you anyway.”

For a second I opened my mouth to argue, and then realized he’s right.”Shut up,” I eventually mumbled and he gave me a wide smile, showing off his crooked teeth. His dentist had said a few weeks before that, once his grown-up teeth grow all the way in, he was gonna get braces. However, my teeth were perfect, even though I still had half a mouth of baby teeth to lose. This frustrated him more than anything, and I teased him about it as much as humanly possible.

He poked me in the side. “Turn that frown upside down!” he exclaimed and then poked me again. I jabbed him with my finger right back. This of course led to an all out poking war right there in the garage sale, along with a few dirty looks from the patrons, but neither of us cared. We were easily some of the most carefree 5th graders you ever met.

Eventually the person running the sale, Andy’s neighbor, threatened to kick us out if we didn’t stop. “What a killjoy” Andy mumbled once she waddled away towards the big blue bin of shoes. I giggled at his sullen expression and crossed arms, and then poked him once in his skinny arm.

He scowled at me.

I flicked him on the nose.

He scowled again.

When I made a motion to pull on his elbow skin, he grabbed my wrist and twisted it like he had learned in the one self defense class he took in school. He only stopped when I begin to make noises of pain.

“You big bully,” I muttered to myself and he turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised.

“What did you call me?” he asked.

My eyes widened. “I called you a big bully, you big bully!” I said in a teasing manner while grinning all the way to my ears.

“I’m the bully, Lottie?” he stated in fake disbelief and then wrapped his arm around my head in a headlock. “I’m the bully?” He pulled my head down to his chest as I clawed at his arm.

“Yes! You’re a big ol’ bully, you bullyface!” I said through my laughter just in time for his neighbor to wobble back over and start yelling again. She actually forced us to leave then, but not before Andy jumped up on the rickety metal folding table and yelled out “Free lemonade!” while holding the half-full plastic pitcher above his head. People just stared at him as I laughed my butt off.