Hello! *gets smashed in the face with laptop*
*Sits back up, hand on bleeding nose* Good aim!
Here's the new chapter! *snurfle* Enjoy! :D
(and pleeease vote and comment! But mostly comment. Reading your comments literally makes my day. You're all freaking hilarious! xD)
(Also, pleeaasssee enjoy the picture :p I figured I'd make a nice little collage of the men in my story!)
Chapter 38 -
I twist the ignition to shut up my crappy red van. She's been chugging a lot recently, and I'm betting its because the old girl's got a shit ton of miles on her. Even if it only takes me about fifteen minutes to get to school and I don't go anywhere (like ever), her last owner - whom I don't know - had apparently used the crap out of this van.
Ugh. Today's been a long day. Bed sounds like a splendid idea.
As I reach for my bookbag in the passenger seat, a daisy falls from my hair. Oh, yea. Those. I shake my head a little and more fall out, and I decide right then and there that I'll just remove them all. Besides, it'll save me the trouble of explaining to my mother why I'd changed my appearance from when she'd seen me this morning! (I can just see and hear it if she'd seen how I'd changed her 'masterpiece': "Why would you change it!? How can you be the Goddess Demeter with so few flowers!?" *cue enraged sniffling like a pouty tween*
After stuffing the flowers into my backpack and kicking open van's door - its lets out a mighty loud squall - I grab the hem of my green toga and shuffle for the steps that lead to the house.
Ah yes, my fucking green toga, I think angrily. This damned thing can go in the damned trash! Or in a fire. Yea, there's a fine idea, just toss it in the back yard with some old newspapers and a few matches and fwoosh. I'll dance around the fire with vengeful laughter.
My mother's lovely idea of giving me a green toga to wear caused me a lot of problems.
1) Sebastian and Abel re-fucking-fused to leave me alone. At all!! After the little photographer - I discovered later that her name is Mallory Walter, and oh ho ho honey, I will find you - had scampered away, I'd had the joy of being escorted to my locker not by one, but two gorgeous idiotic meatheads.
Sebastian, of course, had been in the most fantastic of moods. He'd hopped along beside me, giggling at his own jokes all the way - "Green eggs and ham Psycho, er, PIGLET. Green eggs and fucking ham!" - and had prodded my head with his little red arrow. I smacked him multiple times (he was too quick for me to slap him, dammit) but it didn't deter him at all.
Abel was slightly more sullen. He'd chuckle a teensy bit at some of Sebastian's nonstop stupid talking - "Get some Thousand Island Dressing and we could have ourselves a snack here, Home Skillet." - but was otherwise reeeaaalllyy rocking that whole brooding smexy maybe-I'll-zap-a-city Greek God thing and said very little.
2) My damn toga proved as a leash/handle of sorts for DumbFucks One and Two. Any time I tried to get away from them, they'd just snatch a handful of green fabric and haul me back, laughing. And sometimes it turned into a fucking game of tug o' war! Sebastian once snagged me by the belt and was actually dragging me the opposite way from my damned locker when Abel took hold of the sagging belly of my toga. I had seen the slow burn roiling just under Abel's stoic mask (and what the hell is that about?!), but I can't say if Sebastian did. He'd just stopped pulling, grinned, and said, "So you wanna go for halfsies?"
There was a second of thunderlike tension bubbling from Abel before he cracked a smile - against his will it seemed - and he'd just shook his head and pulled me from Sebastian's grasp. "Nah, man, half wouldn't even be a bite."
They'd both laughed moronically while my face turned bright-ass red.
3) Once we'd reached my locker and they'd both finally fucking left - "See you in Econ, Psycho," - after Sebastian had hooked an arm around Abel's tense shoulders and walked away, I'd had a moment's reprieve. I mean that seriously. A moment.
Because the second I'd opened my locker, a hush had gone over the hall, only punctuated by a few whispers. Turning to see what the hell was going on, I saw everyone's eyes darting between me and someone else down the hall. Heart hammering, I'd craned my neck past a chunky kid and met eyes with Death itself.
PugFace Flora Harkin had been maybe 20 yards down the hall.
I didn't even give her the chance to glare at me, I'd grabbed a notebook from my locker, slammed it shut and then started sprinting, toga hoisted up to my thighs.
"GET BACK HERE!" Had blasted down the hall and proved as a great adrenaline booster. People were merciful and flattened against their lockers to allow me passage, but that meant PugFace had a clear path too (not that it would have mattered, I don't think. She'd have mowed anybody down in her way).
I swear on my life that I heard her hoarsely snarl, "Your baby bitch blood is MINE." And I can guarantee you that I'd yelped like a frightened puppy and kicked it into damned overdrive.
If I'd been wearing white like the rest of the student body, I could have lost her in the crowded lobby area, where everybody was taking pictures and lingering. But nooooo, since I had to wear damned green, PugFace could hone in on me like a Sasquatch Sniper!
I'd bumped into quite a few stupid people who hadn't been smart enough to move, and I vaguely remember nearly flat out slamming into Mathilde Dupont ("Aïe! Qui l'enfer...") and hearing her exclamation and then gasp as I'd flashed past with a raging She-Monster on my tail.
I had truly thought it was going to be my end, but I'd turned a corner and there was Sebastian and Abel, still walking like bros, up ahead. Through my terror I'd remembered what Abel had told me, and I'd prayed like all hell that he hadn't been fucking with me.
"Help!" I'd squealed as I'd rushed by and then sprinted down the hall, not daring to look back. But he must has stopped her, because once I'd finally stopped running - I'd ended up near the gym and pool, which is wayyy far from my locker - she hadn't been in pursuit.
And so that is how my damned day had gone because of my fucking green toga. Had to deal with two dumb hot guys, and I nearly got shredded by an insane female gorilla who would have smeared my baby bitch blood everywhere.
Also, I'd had to sit through Economics with Sebastian, which was hell. We got absolutely nothing done because Brainless MacIdiot was too busy making fun of me and disagreeing with any ideas I had."Psycho, do I look like the kind of guy who would want to run a coffee shop? I don't even drink the stuff. Maybe we could open a little restaurant that specializes in salads. House specialty being green eggs and-" I'd ended that sentence with a well-aimed swat to the nose with my folder, but it hadn't shut him up. I had asked him what happened between Abel and Flora, but he didn't know. He'd 'gotten the hell out of there' as soon as he'd seen why I was running. He'd then proceeded to tell me that it isn't surprising Flora was after me anyways, because 'bears love pork'. It took everything I had to not bash his damned brains out with a chair! Once the bell had gone off, I'd run from that room furious and red faced, Sebastian singing "Greeeenn eggs and haaaaaaaaammm!" To the tune of Bruno Mars' Locked Out of Heaven (which was the same fucking song he'd been singing at my house, half-naked, when Abel had showed up).
But, apart from all of this madness, I can smile about at least one thing.
I was voted off as a Royalty candidate.
I'd been sitting in my last period class, debating whether or not jumping through the window (it's the ground floor) and heading home to avoid any more encounters with Sebastian, Abel, or most importantly, PugFace, would be a good idea, when the intercom had crackled on and the secretary had listed those who would get to continue on to be Lords and Ladies. I could have stood up and cheered once she'd gone through the Maiden's list and I hadn't heard my name.
Now, at home, still exhausted from my awful day, I can at least lay down and relax and be gleeful over fucking FlaBimbo Nyssa's failure at embarrassing me! Hahaha, suck it you dumb ass little bitch!!
As I walk into the house, ready for a nap and maybe some cat cuddle time, I hear my father's voice call from the living room. "Clarisse?"
Who the fuck else? "Yea?" I wander into the room. My dad's sitting in his arm chair with his laptop in his lap, glasses pushed up onto his head. He grins when he sees me. "Well look at you! A Goddess!" I see his eyes latch onto my sagging belt, how my toga was nearly falling off my right shoulder, and the wrinkled bunches of fabric gripped in my hands. "Are you Frumpina, Goddess of all things Bedraggled?"
"Har har," I mutter back at him. I wouldn't look like such a mess if I hadn't been dragged everywhere today...
"Demeter!" I hear my mom call from upstairs, and groan as I turn around to see her bounding down the stairs, beaming.
"Ah, Goddess of the Harvest..." I hear my dad say as my mom rushes up to me, her smile fading, talking right over him. "You look like a mess! Where are the flowers."
Oh shit, think quick, my subconscious hisses at me. "Uh, well, the toga was kind of itchy so I messing with it all day." I could pat myself on the back, atta girl Clarisse! "And I took them out after I took a picture with Scarlett," Which isn't a lie, I did get a picture with her after school, "Because they itched too."
My mom pulls the toga back up over my shoulder, still frowning, but she says, "Oh, well I guess I didn't think of that. This fabric, itchy?" She grabs a handful and soothes it over with a hand. "It's a sheet." I can see her blue eyes narrowing, how she's studying it and just might be seeing the pattern of wrinkles made by an enclosed fist.
I step away from her, taking the toga with me and she's left empty-handed and suspicious. "Well I don't know, it just itched! Maybe there's something in it. I'm gonna go change." Damn her attentiveness! She's like a fucking hawk. She's still watching me with narrowed eyes as I head upstairs. She knows I'm hiding something from her, but like I want to tell her that I was getting attacked by two gorgeous idiots? Hell no! She'd probably lock me in the basement and then search out Sebastian and Abel to chop off their hands for daring to touch me and my fucking green toga.
In my room, I strip off the stupid green sheet - I'll find time to burn it later - and grab the pajama pants I'd worn last night off the floor. This reminds me that tomorrow is Pajama day. Hmm. Scarlett didn't advise me on anything for tomorrow, I guess she assumes I'm smart enough to figure it out. I have a lot of pajama outfits because, well, I adore being damned comfortable, so I guess I just pick whatever one and wear it tomorrow. I throw on a old t-shirt and then unzip my bag, and a boatload of those damned plastic flowers spill out onto the floor. Shit, forgot about those. I scoop them back up and into the bag and tote it out of my room.
"Mom!" My mother's curly head pops into view from the Office, down the hall. She doesn't appear suspicious any more (not that that means anything, she probably still is). "Where do you want these flowers?" I ask.
"Just bring them in here, I've got the box for them." I lug my backpack down the hall (It's full of books too, I'm not so weak as to be burdened by plastic flowers) and drop it on the floor in the Office. She's sitting at the desk grading papers, red pen in hand. She holds up an old Popsicle box with the words 'Plastic Flowers' written on it in Sharpie. There are plastic baggies in the box and flowers still in the baggies. Leave it to my mother to organize plastic flowers. Jeesh. I sit down on the floor and grab the baggie with just one yellow daisy in it and start fishing through my backpack for yellow daisies.
She turns back to her papers and shakes the mouse for her computer to come back to life, the answer key glowing on the screen. "So apart from the itchy toga," She says that sourly, "How was your day?"
Downright terrible. That is what I would say if I was to be truthful, but I instead say, "It was alright. Gonna have to study for a test for Trig next week."
"Ooooo." She says as she marks a problem wrong. "Well don't be afraid to ask me for any help." My mother being a math teacher and all, I've never really struggled with math, but it has never really been my favorite subject.
"Sure," I say as I stuff more daisies into the baggie. Talking about math should distract her from her concern over the wrinkles in my toga. "Sometimes I just screw up the graphing."
"Ah yes," She says as she squints at something on a paper and frowns. She draws an X over what looks like a poorly drawn penis and starts writing at in the margin quickly. "One wrong number can ruin the entire problem."
I nod in agreement as I shove the last daisy into his baggie. I start on the roses next. Before I can start complaining about my teacher though, my mother suddenly says, "I was thinking that tomorrow we could go shopping. Start at JC Penny and if we don't find one maybe try some of those newer teen stores, like the one near the Hallmark in the mall? It think its called Maurices?"
I whip my head up at my mom to gape. What? Go shopping?! "What?" I say, staring at her with my eyes probably goggling out of my head.
She looks down at me, puzzled. "Shopping? For your dress?"
Oh shit. The dress. For Homecoming. Fuuuuuuuuucccckkk.
For a few seconds I can only stare at my mother, my brain stuck because the gears are trying to grind over the wrench that is my terrifyingly spastic mother and her pointless belief that I could have ever been voted as Homecoming Queen. Oh God, I hadn't even thought about how my mom would react once I'd been voted out! She'll go nuclear for sure!! She'll march right into the school and demand that I'm back on the Royalty, hell, she'll want the fucking tiara to put on my fucking head!!
My mom is staring back at me curiously, obviously not reading the look on my face at all. "What? Did you think that I was going to let you out of that? I don't think you even own any dresses now."
There's a little bing! on her computer and she turns her attention from me to check an email. I gulp in some air, alright, here goes, better just tell her now and get it over with. Maybe I'll lock her in here until she's calm... "Well, Mom-"
But I cut myself short because I see that she's gone rigid, eyes glued to her computer screen. I sit up a little more and recognize the school email and hhfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-
"Mo-"
"Oh Clarisse!" My mother gasps and then looks down at me, and back at the email and then back to me, horror on her face. "Clarisse-" She starts, and oh shit, what am I gonna do, I'm gonna have to lock her in here, or her bedroom where she doesn't have a fucking computer to contact anybody-
Behind me, I can hear my dad's voice as he comes up the stairs, "Lola, do you want me to take that chicken out of the oven-" But my mother's loud howl drowns him out and she's suddenly off her chair and on me.
"Ohhh Clarisse! I'm so sorry baby! I didn't even think, oh honeyy! I'm so sorry, those insignificant bastards! How could they do that, oh no honey, oh Clarisse!" She's practically sitting on me but has her arms around me and is crushing me to her chest in a bonecrunching hug. She's hugging me so tightly my cheek is smashing against her collarbone and its actually kind of painful.
Over my crazy mother's loud complaining and reassurances, my dad is saying behind us, "...going on?! What's the matter?! Lola!"
I feel her lift her head and she wails, "Oh Rodney, she didn't get it, she's not on the Royalty anymore!!"
"What?" I hear him say, sounding extremely confused. Like I feel right now. My mother is angry, but also...upset? Like she could possibly cry? What the absolute fuck mom!!
"Look at the email Rodney! Oh Clarisse honey, I'm so sorry, I was talking about getting you a dress and ohhh I didn't even realize why you looked so sad, oh honey, Clarisse..." She's got me in a death grip and won't let me go.
As my dad leans over us and is looking at the computer, I try to wriggle free. "Mom!" I snap, trying to push her away. Jeezus! How is she so strong?! "Mom! Mom, let me go!" She pulls away from me, but still keeps her hands tight on my arms. "Mom! My God woman, its fine! I told you last night that I wasn't going to get it! I didn't want to win Mom. I didn't want to even be part of the stupid Royalty."
"But why aren't you listed anymore?" She asks, her worry and sadness giving way to the fury that I know so well. Alright, none of that shit!
"That's how it works mom!" I say, and then launch into a more detailed explanation of how the voting and titles and whatnot goes. My dad is leaning against he desk, just taking it all in and listening to me, but my mom can't keep quiet for two seconds without any questions or angry opinionated statements ("If you got picked you should stay! None of this voting people off shit!" I dare not tell her that the only reason I even got fucking picked was because it was some stupid attempted prank by a little bitch at my school). After I explained it all and let my mom get out some more steam (I'm still worried that she's going to phone the school and complain), she goes down to the kitchen to go get some ice cream (Ice cream has the dual duty of being a celebratory dish and comforting one in our household).
Good God! I can't believe she was so freaking upset about that. I stand up and my dad gives me a sad little smirk. He pats my shoulder. "Sorry kid,"
I frown at him, exhausted. "I already told you guys, I didn't even want it. It's freaking stupid and I didn't expect to get to the Lords and Ladies stage or whatever. It's a freaking relief!"
My dad just smiles and shakes his head at me. "Well alright then. I'm gonna go help your mother." He walks out of the office. I understand that 'help' meant 'comfort' and probably 'calm down' for this instance, because I have a feeling she's angrily stabbing the ice cream with a spoon right now.
I sit down in my mom's chair, just ready to go crawl into bed. At least it's over with. I study the email, suddenly curious. When the secretary had been listing who had been continuing on, I'd been to damn happy with the fact that I wasn't a candidate anymore to listen for who else got voted out.
I skim over the beginning paragraph but zoom right to the pictures. If that little Mallory put that picture of me and Sebastian and Abel in here.... But nope, there's just pictures of other people grouped together, a picture of two teachers who had dressed up, and what looks like Graham dancing on the 'Stone of Knowledge' monument that sits in the front of the school but its hard to tell because it was taken from a distance.
Below that are the bolded words 'THE RUSH FOR ROYALTY CONTINUES' and the picture of the Maidens now upgraded to Ladies, pink roses clutched in their hands. The first person that stands out to me is Scarlett! Oh jeez! I hadn't even thought to ask her before I'd left, but it shouldn't have surprised me at all anyhow. She's sitting beside Soo Jin (yay!), Paige, and, oh good Christ, Nyssa (that shouldn't surprise me at all but I can't help but wish she didn't keep going). The back row consists of Quenby, Mathilde, Yolanda, and Belinda. Under the picture is lists their names, and it who was voted off. 'Candidates not continuing are Sadie Cross, Desiree Hall, Clarisse Hornitt, and Samantha Wall.'
Ha! Sadie Cross, snobby little cheerleader, didn't move on! Tweet about that. I guess I didn't have any idea about Desiree, but I doesn't entirely surprise me that Samantha was voted off.
I move down to the Lord picture. Of course, Sebastian is still there. Graham too. And now, instead of Joshua Studebaker, Abel is there, giving the camera a completely fake but still gorgeous smile. Under the picture it lists their names and I study it. There are some people in here that I'm not sure off.
In the front row sits Sebastian, and then Graham. Beside Graham, the wording informs me, sits Brent Tubandt and Darius Franklin. Brent doesn't look very familiar to me, but he's average height and build, with tan hair done up in the typical hipster guy style. Maybe from the Drama Club? He's wearing a purple bow tie that's a shade darker than his shirt. Darius has dark, almost black skin and close cropped black hair, and a bright white smile. I think I've seen him with Sebastian and Graham before. Probably a football player. The back row consists of Lukas Dyrendal, Abel, Ignacio Gomez, and Dean Sichmiller. Lukas looks tall and angular, with white-blonde hair and a pointy nose. I'm sure I've seen him sitting with the soccer players. Ignacio is small and wiry, his skin appearing more tan than it probably is in comparison to Lukas's paleness. And this Dean Sichmiller kid is the kid I'd seen when I'd first walked into the gym on Monday, with Yolanda and the other tall blonde, asshole guy (and I'm glad to see that he isn't pictured! Ha, you got voted out too, jerk). I stand by what I'd thought when I'd first seen him; he's average height but leanly stacked with enough muscle to level a house. Beneath this picture the wording says, 'Candidates not continuing are Justin Habbinger, Brian Hubbart, Marcus Moser, and Dwayne VanLacker. Joshua Studebaker has been replaced by Abel Harkin due to extenuating circumstances.'
I sit back from the screen, my eyes bouncing between Sebastian and Abel. Since I'm not a candidate anymore, so I really shouldn't care too much what happens. But I can't help but wonder who might win. Even if I do think it's stupid, I do think that Scarlett would make a good Homecoming Queen. She wouldn't laud it over everybody. Frankly, she'd probably be damned cute up there, embarrassed out of her mind. Of course, she's got some decent contenders, like Belinda Ramirez and Nyssa. I know a lot of people like Belinda, and somehow, people seem to like Nyssa (she's just fake as all hell). For the guys...hm. My eyes automatically are skipping between Sebastian and Abel. Earlier today they had both said that they didn't want it. I could see Abel not having any desire to get a crown put on his head. When I'd first ever met him (which had been a terrifying and absolutely infuriating experience) he'd seemed pretty proud of being a 3-time state champ wrestler, but he otherwise appears pretty lowkey. Sebastian on the other hand enjoy attention like any typical brainless, douch-bag jock, but he had said he didn't want to be King...but he also could have been lying. But wait, what the hell!! Why the hell am I thinking about this!?
I shake my head and scroll the newsletter back up to the top, away from the Royalty. Good Christ Clarisse, what the hell, you don't care who wins. You DON'T. It's stupid. Stupid and pointless.
I hear my dad's voice now, coming up the stairs. "Dammit Nibbles, go away!"
"Rodney!" My mother chides. Dad probably tried to kick him or something.
"He nearly tripped me Lola! I could have gone down the stairs." My father says, glowering downwards as he walks into the office, avoiding Nibbles who was twining around his legs. My dad hands me a bowl of ice cream and spoon, and then drags out the little piano bench for him and Mom. I as I take my first bite of ice cream I can't help but notice how similar this was to Monday night. The three of us, sitting in here eating ice cream.
My dad smiles at me,"Well, you don't get to be the school's princess-"
"Queen." My mom corrects.
"Oh whatever. The school's Queen, but you're definitely a Queen at home!"
I roll my eyes, trying not to grin. He's such a dork. "I don't know Dad, I think mom may have that title." Queen of Insanity, but definitely a queen.
Mom shakes her head, but smiles at me. "No, not at all."
Dad takes the chocolate syrup bottle from Mom and start layering it on. "Well Lola, Clarisse is Queen, but you do have a title. Queen of Cats." He gestures to Nibbles who was clawing on her leg, and to Cuddles and Barnabas who had trailed in after.
She scoffs. "Oh no, these cats are Clarisse's, she adopted them-"
"But," Dad cut in, "You have become their Queen Mother. The demon insists on sleeping with you every night." By 'demon', my dad means Nibbles.
This starts a lovely argument between Mom and Dad and I just sit back and enjoy it. They are hilarious. Mom gets so riled up by things and Dad just casually provokes her, quietly grinning. While they talk, I work on my ice cream and think, wondering what pajamas I'll wear tomorrow. Something basic. Nothing that stands out at all, because me being green today nearly cost me damned fucking life! PugFace's livid snarling face pops up into my brain and want to scream. Good Lord, if I'm not careful, I could die this week!! I wonder what Abel said to her. Maybe he'd managed to reason with her??? Probably not. Hopefully she didn't get him. He was my only line of defense!! Christ, I hope he yelled at her enough to maybe make her back off at least a little. Lord, she'd have got me today if I hadn't found Abel, she could have gotten close enough and caught hold of my fucking green toga....Ohhhh Looorrrdd, I could have died today. Been abso-fucking-lutely murdered. Been murdered and had my baby bitch blood mopped across the linoleum with my green toga-
Something prods my shoulder and I jolt, so caught up in my thoughts of PugFace I half expect to see her in the room, ready to rip me in half and cook me in the oven with the chicken. But it's just my Dad, who is staring at me curiously. "Clarisse? You hear what we said?"
"Wha? No." Sorry, to busy thinking about how I'm going to survive through the week. If I die, maybe I'll leave my vanity to Nibbles. He seems to like it...
Gosh! I shake myself a bit. Get it together Clarisse!! Panic later, with no witnesses. "I'm sorry, what?"
Dad is just looking at me curiously, as if he's about to laugh, but my mother's eyes are narrowed again. "What were you thinking about?" She asks, not even trying to hide how skeptical her voice sounds.
"Pu-uh, Trig! Trig. The test that's coming up in Pugonemetry-er Trigonometry!!! Trigonometry, sorry I meant Trigonometry. I've got a test coming up in Trigonometry. Trigonometry." Jeezus Lord... I nearly said PugFace twice. And if I had and my parents had asked me who/what PugFace was or is, what in the hell would I tell them??
They're both staring at me now suscpiciously, but Dad shrugs off his concern first. "Well that kind of sucks, but I'm sure you'll get through it ok. You always do, my dearest BrainBean." He smiles at me. 'BrainBean', is what my dad has called me since I was probably in like third grade or so. He'd always called me Bean (or SweetBean, BabyBean, LittleBean), for I don't know what reason, just some little kid nickname, but since I'd generally almost always done well in school and enjoyed learning, his favorite nickname became BrainBean. He doesn't use it as frequently as he used to, but it comes up every so often.
I frown at him half-heartedly. "Thanks."
"Anyways," He says, grabbing the ice cream pale from the desk to spoon some more ice cream into his bowl, "What your mother and I were talking about while you were so intently thinking about Trigonometry, was that your mother met some very nice people today at the school."
"Oh...okay..." I say, unsure what the hell this has to do with me.
My mom appears excited now, her intense skepticism pushed aside for now, something akin to maybe happiness lighting up her eyes. "There's this very smart girl in one of the eighth grade classes, Hailey, and I told her I'd like to speak to her parents about what classes she could take once she's in high school." Alright, so some brainiac girl...still don't see how this pertains to me... "Her mom came in and saw my name plate and asked if I knew a Clarisse Hornitt."
Whoa. What?? "Who is it??" I asked, my mind immediately zooming through all the people who know me and could have possibly told their mothers about me. Sebastian, Abel, Nyssa, FLORA... It isn't completely possible but it could be, and oh God, if Flora told her mother, the MamaMonster, about me, shiiiit I could be in my grave by tonight...
"Mr. Steven and Diane Moe." My mother's eyes glittered brightly.
Moe. Moe. Moe... OH! Beagle! Simon! Simon's parents. "Ohhh! Yea, I met her when I adopted the cats. She works at that shelter."
"Yes! She said she remembered you and she thought you were the nicest gal." 'Nicest gal'? I don't remember being overly friendly with Mrs. Diane Moe. Frankly I'd thought she was over-familiar with me...
"Oh, did she? How...nice." I say, and can't help but wonder why my mom and dad are making such a big deal about this. So someone thinks I'm nice? Whoopee. (Though it is a rare happening, but still...)
"Yes, she did," My mom says, a smile curving on her face and her eyes still shining away, as if she's...I don't know, won something? "We talked for quite awhile. She said that you know her son, Simon."
Beagle. "Yea, I know Simon."
It's quiet for a moment after I'd said that, but the air feels charged, ecstatic somehow. My mother is sitting still but I get the impression that she's jumping around internally, the smile on her lips just barely being kept from being a grin, her eyes glinting like someone about to whisper a secret. My father seems similar, but a much more contained level, a very small smile being the only thing giving him away. I go back and forth between them, skewering them with my eyes.
"You know Simon?" My mother asks, her eyes glittering like diamonds; or a snake's.
I dagger her with a scowl. "Yes. I said that. He's in my Economics class."
My mother's pompous look goes full throttle once her smile breaks across her face, and her eyes zip over to my father, who is still smiling the same small little clever smile.
Ok, screw this fucking weirdness!
"Alright," I say, standing up quickly, giving them another frosty look. "I'm gonna go do some homework." I grab my backpack and tip it, spilling the rest of the plastic flowers onto the floor, and then snatching it up. If Mom and Dad want to be fucking weird and secretive, fine, they can put the damned flowers away themselves.
I walk into my room, shut my door firmly, and drop my backpack into the bed with a thud. Then go back and open the door a crack, so the cats can sneak in if they want. While I'm opening the door I can hear my parents' excited voices down the hall. Idiots...
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