Your Not So Average Nerd

Chapter 6.

I realized that the studio was open to the public on Saturdays and I had already made plans to get picked up by someone who I've doing practicing with my whole life. Good thing I was allowed to go to practice and train when I was grounded. This was something I really needed to do today. I should probably also work on that English project, but clearly taekwondo is more important.

I got changed gathered the equipment I would need for practice, and went to sit on the steps to wait for my ride. My brothers and I knew the best way to piss off my mother about the move was to not pack a single thing until Wednesday night, so they were in the basement waiting for Nate to play videogames for the rest of the day as I went to practice.

If there was one thing my mother taught me, it was to be a perfectionist. If you can't be a perfectionist then just make it appear to everyone else that your life is already perfect.

It was the appearing perfect thing that I struggled with the most.

If you haven't been able to tell by now, I have slight anger issues. Most normal people don't break a sink and punch a hole in the wall within a week of each other. Therapy was something that made you or your family appear less than perfect. If you needed therapy, then you were ruining the image for everyone else.

I think we all could have used therapy after my dad left, and we could use it now more than ever with the step-sibling on the way. In my mother's world though, this was not acceptable. I was forced to channel my anger through taekwondo since my visible anger did not fit into the image. My brothers were smart enough to control their temper, only letting it shine through when the three of us were the only ones around.

I took up taekwondo when I was 8 years old. We went to the studio for some girl's birthday. I honestly don't even remember who since this was back when your parents forced you to invite every child in your class to your birthday parties. I had the time of my life at the birthday party, and since I was showing signs of anger issues already my mother thought it was the perfect way to disguise it as an extracurricular activity.

It was not my fault that some kid decided to steal my cookies in first grade. He deserved to be kicked in the shin. No one messes with my dunkaroos.

Anyways, there are no real set practices that Buddy and I attend. We just go whenever we're both free.

Buddy is probably double my age and probably triple my size, but we have always gotten on extremely well. Maybe we bonded over our anger issues and family problems.

Buddy is just what you would expect a sumo wrestler to look like in a television show. A guy with dark hair thrown back into a man bun and never wears a shirt.

That's why I'm not surprised to be a half dresses large guy in what could pass as a clown car pull into the driveway. I never understood how Buddy fit into his box-shaped white car. Actually, I'm still a little fuzzy on how two people my size are supposed to fit into the car. Needless to say, I don't have much room sitting in the car.

We drive to the studio in silence as usual. We never feel the need to talk to one another on the way, but today I'm sure that he can tell there's something off about me too.

I throw on my dobok as soon as we reach the studio, and practice my heart out for hours. Although I just passed my black belt test, I still feel as if I could brush up on some of those skills.

There's the perfectionist coming out in me again.

I'm in the groove listening to my workout mix when the familiar dig rings in my ears.

Will: Get home mom wants to talk to us again

Oh joy. I wonder what this could be about.

After packing up my things back into the clown car, Buddy willing takes me home as I tell him all about how I'm going to have a new daddy. I'm sure Buddy must think I'm crazy at this point. I only tell him when something is going terribly wrong in my life.

Walking up the three front steps of the house seems like a death march. Nothing good can come of our mother being home and wanting to talk to all three of us.

When I open the door, there's an odd smell filling the house. Is someone cooking?

"Mom?" I yell from the top of my lungs.

"Some of us have a hangover you know," is hissed back at me from the couch. I didn't even see Will and Chris sitting there.

"Oh hi sweetie." I turn expecting to see my mother but am completely distracted when I see a tall, young man standing in front of me. There was no way this guy was older than 30. That puts a nice 15 year age gap between him and my mother minimum.

"Mom. Who is this?" I say with as much skepticism as I can muster. I know who it is, but I need to hear it from her.

"Oh sweetie, this is James. James, this is my daughter Virginia."

The guy bent his head to stare at me, towering at least a foot over me. His deep brown, almost black, eyes felt like they were piercing my soul."

"No mom, this looks like a lost college student. I thought James was old and had children."

"VIRGINIA, be respectful," she screamed at me. "He only has one child, Billy is 2 years old."

"Did you have Billy when you were 21, James?"

James is staring at me like he has no clue what I'm talking about. Chris and Will are snickering in the background, while my mom is yelling those very familiar words at me.

"You're grounded."

"Wonderful, I'm going to the library then."

I start walking down the street with towards the library when the obnoxious sound of a motorcycle cuts through the peace and quiet of my walk.

I hate motorcycles, I've hated them since I was little. My dad drove one, but I could never understand why someone would want to drive something so loud.

"Hey hot stuff, need a ride?"

Who the hell calls a girl hot stuff anymore? Is this still the 80's?

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As I was writing this, I realized I know nothing about taekwondo.. I may have thrown a few gymnastics words in there :)

I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!! I know this wasn't the most exciting chapter, but I promise the next one will be filled with interesting things!