Well hello :)
Sorry this took so long, I'm slow and went on a mini-trip and I work and blah and I'm lazy.
(Someone shouting through the computer screen) "Hush up your excuses!" *throws ketchup bottle*
*gets hit with bottle*
*bottle spills open against my cranium*
*cringes at ketchup on self*
"Ow! And ew...yuck ketchup... And I'm sorry!"
Enjoy the upcoming chapter! xD
Chapter 41 -
"Clarisse!"
Say it one more time. Say my name one more fucking time, I dare you. I will pull your damn tongue right out of your damn mouth and throw it out in the damned yard for the ants to feast upon, woman. I WILL.
"Cla-"
"What?!" I snarl/shout from the coffee table I was irritably reorganizing. If I'd have let her finish I would have had to rip my own Mother's tongue out, and I don't think that would go over well with anyone (like I want to deal with saliva and blood? Uhhh fuck no). I slam the National Geographic magazines into a little pile, beside the Better Homes and some gardening stuff my mom never reads because she doesn't garden (she buy plants from Menards and puts them next to the front steps. Which I don't believe counts as gardening!! Friggin' cheater). I scowl over my shoulder. "What, Mom?"
Her frizzled little head pokes out from the kitchen, and she (for once) doesn't seem insulted by my pissed off tone. She looks stressed and worried. "All I have in the fridge is vanilla ice cream and two cherry Popsicles!"
I squint at her, completely aggravated and baffled. "So?"
My mom looks as if she's about to face plant into HysteriaVille and start talking to a realtor. "Well what if he doesn't like vanilla? Or cherry?!"
Sweet little baby Jeezus..."It doesn't matter, we don't have to feed him!"
A manic glower replaces the CrazyLady expression on her face quick as a whip. "Nonsense! I'm making supper already! If I had time to make a dessert" He eyes trail off with her thinking. "But all I've got is cake mix...hmm..." Then she's gone, back into the kitchen where it smells like she's making enough food to feed the entire street and the garbage man.
If you can't tell, my mom isn't handling the fact that someone is coming to the house very well.
Upstairs, I can hear the vacuum start up, and not two seconds later all three cats come pelting down the steps, Nibbles spurting like a rocket into the kitchen, Cuddles soaring towards the bathroom with an extra froofy-looking Barnabas on her heels. Sounds like Dad's in my parent's bedroom. Why the hell is he cleaning in there!? Sebastian isn't going in there!!
"Out! Out! You little demon, get out!" Is she talking to her own brain?? Might do her some good...
My mom is booting Nibbles from the kitchen with her foot, trying to keep him from getting by her to possibly ruin whatever unnecessary supper she's cooking up. "Oh good Christ," She growls and then disappears for a moment and then is back, and throws a piece of something into the living room. Nibbles soars out after it, landing on the little square of yellow. "Lock the little heathen in the bathroom!" She huffs angrily at me before once again disappearing.
I walk over to Nibbles who was busily chowing down the the cheese that my Mom had used as bait. You stupid cute little devil-creature. He's still chewing when I pick him up, but he doesn't struggle until I reach the bathroom, where he knows he'll be imprisoned. Hiding behind the toilet are Cuddles (who looks like an insulted Queen) and Barnabas (who's glowering so fiercely a German Shepherd would think twice about barking) and I drop Nibbles quickly and slam the door shut. There's an upset little yowl from behind the wood.
Frankly, I'd like to lock myself in the bathroom with my fucking cats and not come out until today was done.
This entire afternoon has been one irritating, maddening and flat out stupid clusterfuck. Honestly, it feels like The Universe decided to be a dick and cram my life into a blender and smash the switch to SuperFrigginHigh or something! Why the hell else would I have to bring Sebastian too my damned house to finish a homework project??
When I'd come home from school - already ticked off and worried - my Mom had showed up not ten minutes later and pounced on me, peppering me with questions, yelling at me, hugging me, and then frantically shouting what a disaster the house was when she spotteded one dirty dish on the dining room table. My mom never handles anything impromptu well, and something of this magnitude basically just kicked her off her boat and into the stormy seas without a damn life jacket (or at least that's how I imagine it is for her, I don't fucking know).
And when Dad came home my mom all but tackled him (just about knocked his glasses off!), babbling incoherently ('Rodney Rodney Rodney...!! Clarisse--!! Our DAUGHTER--!! A b-boy...coming to the house-- A BOY--'), and then stopped herself, throwing me a weird as hell look over her shoulder, and then dragging him into the kitchen where she spoke almost quietly (her voice would fluctuate between whispering and whisper-screaming) to him for at least five minutes.
I'd heard my dad comforting my hysterical mother (puke puke puke) and then he'd come out of the kitchen with a satisfied smirk and a sly twinkle in his eye. "So BrainBean," He'd said, "Bringing a boy home?"
My face had gone red and I'd snapped, "No. My partner for a project! For homework." Sebastian is no BOY. He is an insanely annoying gorgeous piece of fricking evil man!! (Shit...)
Dad had already been wandering upstairs, still smirking at me. "Alright, alright. We can't wait to meet him." That little sentence had caused a completely stricken expression to cross my mom's face, and she'd zoomed up after him, hissing something that sounded like 'Rodney you don't mean--'
That had been more than enough fucking stress, but then Scarlett had been texting me too, and helped remind me of something else just as annoying, but ten times more horrifying:
The Coronation.
I'd waited until my mom had come back downstairs - she'd looked haunted by whatever her and my dad had been talking about(which freaks me the fuck out. Do they seriously think that I'm bringing a boy over just for the hell of it?!), but had given me a weak but skittish smile - and was organizing the mail before I told her about the meeting at school today.
I think I'd nearly killed her.
She nearly went over after her face had blanched, and then she was laughing in a mildly hysterical way and hugged me again. "Oh honey I knew you'd get to be apart of it!" I couldn't decide whether she sounded excited or panicked.
That conversation even included Scarlett, who had so kindly called me to ask if I wanted to go shopping with her tomorrow after school for my ulp, DRESS... And my mother quickly snapped back into aggravating Mother Mode and said that she would be coming along as well. I'd been nearly ready to give her a piece of my mind on that note (UM NO MOM. NO.) but Scarlett had very easily agreed, saying she'd been about to invite her anyways. Also, she had a purple dress of her older sister Ruby's that she wondered if I wanted to try on.
I'd had to sit down at the kitchen table and explain what was all going to have to go on Friday to my Mom, then part way through she'd screamed at my dad to come downstairs and I'd had to re-explain it all again (this frankly seemed to just excite my Dad more, and my Mother was simultaneously looking like she was about ready to just faint or explode).
So now, with it being about ten to seven, all three of us are just about on the verge of full out StressMode.
There's a loud bang and a curse from the kitchen. Hm. Mom killing supper? Welp, I'm not going in there. I'm really just ready to just go hide in my room and never come out, because I know that my parents won't handle Sebastian being here, but I certaintly won't handle it well. The memories of him being here just not to long again still haunt my damn nightmares!!
Hungover, shirtless Sebastian, throwing up in my bathroom, hiding in a cupboard from my nosy as hell neighbor, dragging me into our ruined basement, then chasing me all over my damned house and then Zeus Jr Abel showing up at my god damned door!! That was one experience that I don't EVER want repeated, but what the hell can possibly happen with him coming back to my friggin' house!? He's going to walk in here all cocky and gorgeous...and what? Embarrass me?? Most damn likely!!
I can just hear it now... 'Well Hello Mr. and Mrs. Hornitt...ahaha...excuse me, your name is hilarious. Like bees! Maybe I'll just call you Mr. and Mrs. Bee!! That's what I'll do! And did you know that I hate your daughter? Yessiree! I despise her and would love to pull all of her hair out and lock her in a room that has a recording of my laugh on repeat, but since that's illegal I just have to settle with annoying the fuck out of her until she goes insane. Which she already is by the way! That's why I call her Psycho! Because she's a Psycho! Did you know that she's slapped me? Oh yea, loads of times! I could have called her in for harassment but I'm too nice. And sometimes I call her Piglet. Because I hate her and I know that it pisses her off! Haha!'
Oh Christ...just imagining Sebastian having to talk to my parents is enough to make me shudder. He'll be cocky and annoying and rude...and will embarrass me, shit tons. Probably talk shit about the basement--
Oh fuck.
The basement.
He's been here.
My parent's don't know.
But HE doesn't know that they don't know.
Hoooollyyyy shiiiittt----!!!
A massive evil fist of panic takes a firm grip on my windpipe, and hysteria rivaling my mother's floods my brain. Oh shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshitSHITSHITSHIT!! My parents have NO idea that anyone was here that weekend they'd been gone to visit my Grandma after her heart attack!! I mean, my Dad had given me that super weird note about alcohol but I think that had been for if I LEFT, not if I brought someone here, right?! Gaahh I don't remember!! I'd flattened the note underneath the stack of SAT prep books on my desk in an attempt to hide it, and I don't really want to go up and read it again for no reason. If my mom had known that I'd brought anyone here without her knowing - regardless as to what my weird dad has to say about it - I would be locked in this house forever, shackled in my room with bars on the windows and only freed to help her disinfect every inch of the house from the touch of the unwanted visitor!!
I whip my phone out, quickly texting Scarlett a quick 'SHIT' message, and then clicking the buttons so hard on my phone to get to my contacts that I'm sure I'll break it but I don't even care. In my few contacts I find Sebastian, and then am typing about a terrified text:
Me: i dont care if ur on your way but DO NOT TELL MY PRNTS THAT YOUV EVR BEEN HERE
I slip my phone into my pocket, and just about jump out of my damned skin at my mother's voice. "Clarisse!"
"What?!" I whirl around, heart in my throat. Oh god oh god did she read it did she see the message--?!
She's standing in the kitchen doorway, stains on her shirt, and her hair a ginormous frizzball from the steam pouring out of the kitchen. "Could you please turn on the stereo? I need some music."
I gust out a sigh. Oh sweet Jesus. She wasn't reading over my shoulder like the conniving little creep she can be. I nod and wander into the living room the the stereo set above the TV and click it on. My Dad's ipod (yes, he has an ipod that he still uses) is plugged in already, and Bon Jovi's It's My Life blasts through the speakers so loud that I'm sure I just killed my ear. My dad's playlists are basically just a bunch of oldies stuff, roving through the sixties to the eighties. I turn it down enough so that I'm sure the neighbors won't be complaining at us.
Over the blast of the music, I think my mom said something, and I turn back to her. "What?"
Her eyes are on the old tshirt I'd gotten from the Omaha Zoo, and my comfy old gray sweatpants. "Aren't you going to change?"
I blink at her, then back down to my outfit, completed with a pair of purple socks. Change?? Why? This is what I usually wear over the weekends or in the evenings after school. "You want me to change my clothes?"
"Yes," She says, still looking harried but firm. "You're not going to wear that for-- I mean, tonight."
"And why would I change?"
My mother's lips tighten into a nearly perfect straight line, and her eyes narrow at my insolent (I will admit to being insolent when she's being stupid) tone. "Because when you have guests in your home, my home, you will look nice."
I glower at her for a moment and then mutter out a 'fine'. I turn away, quietly fuming. I have no desire to try and look like I tried for Sebastian!! I do not want him to think that I'm getting any... *violent disgusted shudder* feelings for him!! Like I would ever want to impress him in anyway...puh!!
My dad is vacuuming upstairs hall when I reach the landing, and he looks up and gives me a...triumphant? smile. As I walk by I smack at his glasses and he flinches, but laughs at me and tries to ram me with the vacuum. I dodge it and jump into my room, shutting it quickly.
Ugh. Why is he so weird? Looking all high and mighty ever since he'd found out someone was coming to the house, well get ready to have to your hopes all dashed on the pointy as fuck rocks of Disappointment, because Sebastian is by far nothing for you to get all excited about. For Pete's sake, I've told them repeatedly that he's coming over for homework, and they're acting like I'm gonna marry the guy.
I would sooner throw myself into a pit of starving alligators.
In my room, I dig out a light blue polo I know he's seen me wear before and an older pair of jeans. I'll look semi-decent but I'm not gonna try to look nice for him. At my vanity, I roll on some deodorant (and noooo, I am not trying to smell nice for stupid Sebastian. I just don't need to give him anything else to make fun of me about) and study myself in the mirror.
My hair is a tangled up bird's nest, my glasses are smeary, there's a zit right at the corner of my nose and a few baby ones on my forehead, the collar of my polo is flipped up in the back and the shirt itself fits like a deflated balloon, these jeans need a belt because they're about ready to slide off my nonexistent ass and I really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really just don't want Sebastian to show up at my house.
Glowering, I try to flatten down my hair, part of me shouting it doesn't matter what you look like to him and the other part squealing yes it does yes it does! and I'm just about ready to shave my head. SHUT UP STUPID BRAIN. As I angrily jerk a brush through the knots in my hair (lord almightyyy did a bunch of evil little elves show up and tie every strand of my hair together?!) my eyes catch a dark-ish smudge on my arm.
Ughhh.
Its another smidgen of Sharpie still on my arm after I'd scrubbed and scrubbed at it to get it off my freaking arms. Stupid hot gorgeous Abel... Before I'd come home I'd had to spend like ten minutes trying to get the marks off, and I'd just barely faded them. At home the first thing I did was scrub them clean with soap and hand santitizer and there's still some of the damn stuff on me...stupid Abel!
Thinking of Abel makes me think of meeting him in the library today, and my heart idiotically does a stutter step. He's an idiot and is determined to still be gentle with PugFace, when he should be just telling her folks she's a crazed she-gorilla and boot her off the Camp Straight Jacket and Padlocks. But...he is trying to help me. Stupidly, but he's trying.
Then there was freaking Mathilde 'halping' me today too...
I put my brush down and close my eyes, rubbing my temples.
Since when did my life get so weird??
Just as I'm opening the door to go back downstairs, and through the chords of Paint it Black thrumming from the living room, I hear a buzz on the floor, and remember my phone is still in my sweatpants pocket. I dive over my bed and fish it from the fabric and open the message.
Sebastian: Texting me first Psycho? Well isn't that unexpected ;p
A splash of red hits my face and an angry flame lights along with it. Did he even read my message?
Me: im warning you idiot dont say anything to my prnts
Sebastian: You must be excited to see me. (some emoji my phone doesn't allow me to see)
Me: R U EVEN LSTNING 2 ME
He is flat out fucking ignoring everything I've said!! Stupid idiot son of a bitch Sebastian--
Sebasitan: There is this lovely thing called correct grammar, and a little Pyscho geek nerd like yourself should be proficient at it.
If I could reach through this phone to him I would and I would rip off both of his god damned fucking eyebrows!! (and he used the word 'proficient'!!! Why the hell is he smart?!)
Me: my grammar isnt the point would u listn to me?!!! do NOT tell my parents that you have evr been to my house GOT IT
Sebastian: Oh wait, you don't have autocorrect do you? (emoji I can't see) But you still should be able to spell, I'm disappointed Psycho. (ANOTHER emoji I can't see)
I glare down at my phone in disbelief. Is he really doing this?? Like seriously?!
Me: WOULD U JUST ANSWER ME?!! AND STOP SENDING EMOJISS I CANT SEE THM
Sebastian: I HAVE been answering you, stupid! and I'll send as many emojis as I want (an entire line of the damn box things that show up since my stupid phone can't process the stupid emojis follows this sentence), and OF COURSE I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOUR PARENTS DO YOU THINK I'M FUCKING STUPID?
I HATE him. With a furious, raging, supernova PASSION.
Me: Was it THAT hard to answer my first Q? and YES I THINK UR FUCKING STUPID i hate u so much and fuck u and ur damn emojis!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sebastian: I thought you'd have enough faith in me to trust that I wouldn't mention that. Like I want your parents thinking I got so toasted I ended up at a Psycho's house?? (three damn emojis I can't see) And I always knew you felt that way about me, but I don't know how you can exactly fuck an emoji, that's just messed up Psycho. (another fucking emoji I cannot damned see)
I'll kill him. He will never set foot in my house again. I'll kill him on the fucking sidewalk and I don't care how long it will take to scrub the blood off the cement I. Will. KILL. HIM.
Me: u are a disgusting piece of FILTH
Sebastian: Actually no, I was fresh out of the shower after practice when you texted me, so I'm pretty clean now. You timed that creepily well, were you hoping for a picture? (emoji that I can't see but I imagine is like a winky face that I would punch)
An image of a squeaky clean, dripping Sebastian with a towel around his waist flashed momentarily into my ridiculously hormonal brain. Shit shit shit shit. Stupid brain!! I do not need to imagine that!! Lord Jesus!!
Me: Nooo!! thats sick and i would never want you to send me any pictures EVER. If he's done with practice and showering that means he should be on his way... are you coming?
I check the time as I walk from the room. 7:05. Lord, he'll be on his way soon. Crap crap crap...My dad is gone from the hallway, and I can hear the clatter of plates from the dining room (the dining room!? We never eat in there unless its like a holiday or something!!) and smell...hm, what is that? I take another sniff. Pizza? I breath in deeply and realize its homemade pizza (well sort of homemade, boughten crust, and sauce...all that's required is the brown the hamburger and throw on whatever else). But there's something else...is that mac and cheese?? Pizza and mac and cheese. Oh good Lord...
As I'm just walking down the steps to investigate (whoever heart of pizza and mac and cheese on the supper table at once?) my phone goes off again in my pocket. I stop where I am to read the next message.
Scarlett: ???
As I'm starting the type a reply, my phone buzzes again, and Sebastian's message butts into my view.
Sebastian: I don't know Psycho, judging by your little red-faced reaction to my biceps I don't think you'd mind having a picture for yourself (most likely some flirty little emoji). And yea, left the parking lot a little bit ago. Turn left at Spruce Ave right?
My face burns up again. Dammit, damn him...but he isn't wrong...because the stupid gorgeous beef machine does have freaking fantastic biceps that are not only blush worthy, but melt-worthy too... Noo! My smart subconscious shrieks. Remember! He had you in a fucking headlong with those biceps!!
Right!!
I shake myself, glowering down at my phone. I start typing out my reply to the stupid, cocky, egocentric idiot of a human being... Me: my red face is bcuz im always angry at u and ur stupidness i do NOT want a pic of u on my phone!!! and y--
"Trouble in paradise?"
I nearly fall down the damn stairs in terror at the voice over my shoulder, yelping like a frightened Chihuahua. Whipping around, I gasp angrily, "Dad!! You almost killed me!!"
My dad is standing on the first step down from the second floor, two steps up from mine. He's got one hand out on my shoulder, probably in reaction to the fact that I'd nearly tumbled down the stairs to my probable death, but that mischievous almost conspiratorial smile is still on his face.
I narrow my eyes at him, dropped my phone out of his vision, and then said quietly, "And what did you say before?"
He doesn't waver whatsoever, challenging me right back. I imagine that part of the reason my dad had married my mom is because he could actually handle her complete spastic-ness, which I unfortunately did inherit, and so my dad also can handle me. But I am my father's daughter as much as my mother's and so I can be coolly devious as well (so bring it on, Pops!).
His brown eyes go the phone I'd moved away from him and back to my face deliberately, and he pats my shoulder again, still looking like he's laughing at his own private joke. "I said, 'trouble in paradise'?"
'Trouble in paradise' hm? So what is he thinking, that I'm in a fight with Sebastian? And me and Sebastian are supposedly in paradise? Oh no, father dearest, the only place Sebastian and I are ever in together is called hell.
"Dad, he isn't my boyfriend." I said icily. I'd inherited my dad's slightly oblong face, but otherwise people (meaning my family) often say that I'm my mother incarnate (with brown eyes). But when I see pictures of us all, ignoring that our hair is the same, I see that my dad's oval-faced genes changed the heart-shaped-faced genes from my mom. Her roundish button-like nose is stretched on me, and her more delicate eyes were lost in the heavy brow from my father. Mom has said that dad I have the exact same scowl, and I believe it.
Glasses glinting in the light, my dad's smirk grew into a little grin and he threw an arm around me as he marched me down the steps. "I never said he was, my little BrainBean, I never said he was."
Once what he'd said make sense in my frustrated brain, I shoot him a sour look, blushing fitfully. "And I don't want him to be either." I hiss. "He's coming over just to do homework. Home work, Dad."
My dad jostles my shoulders in typical dad-like fashion, chuckling. "Oh sure sure, I hear ya," He says, but I can also hear what he doesn't say: I hear ya, but I don't believe ya.
My mom seems to have toned down the music to a quieter hum, but I can still recognize the intro of Pretty Woman. Once we reach the bottom of the stairs and go around the corner, the sight and smell of the dining room assaults us and my jaw almost unhinges. Food. Fucking food. Everywhere. I was right when I'd smelled pizza and mac and cheese, but there's a little platter of turkey sandwiches, a big bowl of pasta and pea salad, another smaller bowl of Jell-O topped with whipped cream, a spread of carrots and celery and broccoli set for dipping in ranch, chip bags of Doritos, Sour Cream and Onion, and Lays Original, a pitcher of Grape Koolaid, a gallon of milk, and a pitcher of water. Mom was just walking out of the kitchen with another smallish bowl, with what looked like some freshly washed grapes.
I finished the message to Sebastian I hadn't finished. Me: --es. then turn right on Garfield. and you better be hungry. I hit send, eyes still gawking at the ridiculous sight before me.
My mom is babbling as she arranges the table to fit in the small bowl of grapes beside the pasta salad. "I wasn't sure what to go with but I followed your advice when you said to make a pizza," My advice had been, and I quote, 'Oh shut up mom, we can just order a stupid pizza!', so no, she didn't entirely follow my advice, but, fuck it. "...because everybody likes pizza, but I made this part pepperoni and this part beef and this part is sausage and this is just cheese, because I didn't know what h-he (I notice her stutter on the word 'he') would like...But I'd wanted to make pasta to, because everyone likes pasta, so I cooked up mac and cheese and then that salad that your Dad liked, right Rodney?" Beside me, my dad just nods, looking amused and also slightly alarmed. My mother continues on with her prattle. "And I remembered the turkey in the fridge so I made sandwiches..."
My phone vibrating in my hand distracts me from the overfilled table.
Sebastian: Garfield? Shit i turned right on Leonard. I'll turn around. And I should be hungry??
Me: ur only like a block off, just find Garfield. And yes.
Mom is still explaining the entirety of the table and I can feel a certain amount of rising panic settling in. Sebastian is coming. He's on his way. He got off track, but he's on his way, he'll be here in like, what? Fifteen minutes? I stare at the enormity of food and feel my gut twisting in knots. Crap crap crap crap crap mother...you couldn't have just ordered a pizza? Or hell, made just the damn pizza and like one other thing? The way you're acting is like I'm bringing over my god damned fiancee, and like hell do I think of Sebastian that way, or do I want him to think I think that way!!
My phone buzzes again.
Sebastian: K im on Garfield. And hungry for what? ;)
An angry blush scorches my cheeks. Asshole! He even typed out the winking face so I could positively tell he was being flirtatious and dirty!! I turn away from my parents - who are discussing the due date on the milk or something - to typing furiously, about killing the buttons on the phone in the process.
Me: hungry for my mother's manic cooking alright? she made a shit ton of food and i don't want to hear shit about it. and alright just follow garfield and the house is on the right, white.
My mother comes up beside me and I automatically tuck my phone into my pocket. No more snooping from nobody! "Is it him? Will he be here soon?" She asks, her voice tight but sounding more...excited almost? Good christ. Pick a mood mother!!
"Yea, S--" I drop his name before it can leave my tongue. I've avoided saying it because it feels like it'll just bring him here that much sooner. "...he'll be here soon. Like five ten minutes or something." I mutter quickly, avoiding their eyes and darting toward the living room to hide. I have no desire to have them asking any questions!! Anything they want to know about him they can ask him themselves.
I hear the slight silence behind me and sneak a peek over my shoulder to see them looking at each other all surreptitiously, like they were gushing over some kind of silent, exciting secret. My mom's tight, worried but bright eyes find me and then she's smiling at me, and it's kind of scary because its so tense. "Well I'm gonna go change, just tell me when he...he gets here!" She dashes upstairs.
Dad chuckles to himself and grabs a celery stick that he crunches in his teeth, smirking at me. "You keep that scowl on your face and it'll stay that way."
"Oh yea?" I say darkly, scowling more deeply, and then turn away to sit in the arm chair. My dad's chuckling as I check my phone again.
Sebastian: Does a certain amount of anger just improve your grammar, or did you take my advice? (most likely some snarky emoji that i can't see) and well that sounds good im starved after practice, what are we having? you might need to be more specific there Psycho, there are a lot of white houses.
Before I can type a reply there's another message, what the hell Sebastian??
Sebastian: do you have a blue mailbox?
Blue mailbox?? What?
Me: No?
There's suddenly another message that eclipses the one I just sent, too soon for him to have even read the one I'd just sent.
Sebastian: I'm waffle bnnn
I blink at his message. What in the the fuck? 'I'm waffle bnnn'? What the hell does that mean?? Is waffle some new slang word or something?? What does bnnn stand for? But not now...another n-word??
Me: What??
After what feels like forever (and is closer to like, ten seconds) he texts me back.
Sebastian: sorry phone autocorrected my buttdial. just got chased by dog. about died.
I'm laughing before I can stop myself, but shit, that's funny. Imagining Sebastian running from a dog is just fucking hilarious. Hahahaha, sucks to suck, idiot!
Me: Hahahaha you stopped at the wrong house
His response is instantaneous.
Sebastian: i figured that out asshole.
I'm laughing at that message too, and I can feel my dad's gaze on me from the dining room but ignore it. He sends another.
Sebastian: now where the hell is your house?
Me: white house, gray mail box, house number 108
Sebastian: you couldn't have told me your fucking house number before I stopped at the house with the big angry dog????
Hahahahaha, shit, I hadn't honestly thought about it. I don't normally have to direct people to my house. At the moment I'm glad I hadn't.
Me: I forgot
Thinking back, when I'd given Scarlett directions to my house to pick me up the one time before the football game, I'd had to call her because I couldn't exactly explain in well in text to her either. I can't remember who around here has a dog...some people a couple houses down have a little Yorkie, but that's not a big dog, and that house would be on Sebastian's left and it's a tan house...
My phone buzzes in my hand again, and just as I'm reading the words 'sure, ya evil little Psycho, and I'm here' my mother's voice blasts down the stairs, shrill and loud enough to wake up a two hundred year old graveyard. "I see headlights!"
Oh Heaven have mercy.
I was out of the chair before thinking about it, heart drilling viciously in my chest, my face blanching from nerves. Crap crap crap crap crap crapcrapcrapcrapcrappity CRAP. He's here. He's here he's here he's gonna be just on the other side of that damn door and my parents are here too and they're going to be weird as hell and GOOD GOD WHERE IS MY HEART WHAT THE FUCK IS THERE A JACKHAMMER IN MY CHEST OR WHAT---
Through my terror I notice that my mom has changed into a green sweater and khaki slacks. Dad's wearing what he wears to work, which today is a maroon dress shirt and jeans. Why do they have to looks so nice?! Sebastian's just here for homework, they don't have to look nice, Mom didn't have to make so much damn food, she needs to shut up too, Mom just be quiet, crap, I don't have to be panicking so much---
Knock knock.
The knock on the door is just loud enough to snap against my eardrums and ricochet through my panicking skull and somehow shut down the tornado of thoughts. Ohhh Mary Mother of Jeezus, Sebastian is just on the other side of that door, that inch an a half or whatever of wood is the only thing between him and me, the only thing keeping his annoying as fuck ass away from me, and away from my parents, that door is my last link to my fucking sanity.
And I'm gonna have to open that fucking door.
With a sweaty hand I put my phone in my pocket, and march my way to the door, my last link to sanity and safety, clamping down on the scream in my mouth and ignoring the jackhammer that's replaced my heart. My mom and dad are standing off to the side, Mom looking like she's about to burst from her skin, smiling but looking like she's ready to scream like me, and Dad, his arm around her and smirking that stupid stupid stupid smile!!
Alright Clarisse, I think, just throw open the door. It's not big deal.
I can feel my parents' anxiety and stupid excitement in air, clogging the room, and I just want to lay down and die, just lay out on the floor and die and let my happy stupid little angel flap its way up into the clouds and meet Jesus and just be DAMNED FUCKING PEACEFUL FOR ONCE---
My hand touches the door handle, and I after a moment's hesitation I mutter, "Oh fuck me," and wrench the damn door open.
Sebastian filled up the doorway, broad shoulders close to the width of it, his head close to brushing the cobwebs whisping from the wood. His dark hair still looks a little damp, and it looks like he'd maybe just been patting it down. His backpack is slung over his left shoulder, that hand gripping the strap casually. He's wearing a black sweatshirt with the words 'Pirates' in red and blaring from the fabric. A pair of nice jeans, some nice-ish looking gray shoes. His golden tan eyes are bright, his skin a healthy flush, and a wide, polite smile is exposing white teeth.
You beautiful bastard.
"Hi," He says, his eyes on me for a millisecond before flashing to my parents behind me. I croak out a quiet 'hey', and then, heart in my throat, jackhammering away, I turn to follow his gaze.
They look frozen, like those police officers in The Incredibles that Frozone froze to get away, their expressions stuck comically. My Mom's eyes are wide as the plates she's set on the table, looking fit to just pop out of her skull and roll away on the floor. The smile she'd had on her face is tight as hell, more a grimace than a grin now, the corners edging to look more down angled. She literally looks like she's staring straight at a horror film, scared so stupid stiff she can't even cringe away. Dad, for once, isn't his usual cool and calm self either, his eyebrows wrinkling his forehead like an old plastic bag, his jaw unhinged and his mouth just barely closed to keep it from opening into a literal 'O'.
I don't entirely know what to make of their reaction to Sebastian, but the easiest assumption is that they're downright fucking flabbergasted.
In the two beats of awkward and petrified silence after Sebastian's greeting, my dad (of course, bless his soul) is the first to shake his stupor. "Well, hello," My dad says, voice cracking lightly on the 'hello'. He comes forward with his hand extended, and I don't miss that behind his glasses are about bug-eyed as he looks up to find Sebastian's face. "Come on in,"
I hold back a squeak of hysterical laughter as I look at my dad's little hand clasping Sebastian's in the typical manly handshake. My father is all of five feet and eight inches, and he looks like a freaking bug beside the six foot five or whatever linebacker. Christ, my brain just left the building.
"Thank you, sir," Sebastian says, polite and looking only the tiniest bit awkward. "I'm Sebastian MacCrain."
"Welcome Mr. MacCrain, I'm Rodney,"
My mom steps up next, the downright holy-shit-this-kid's-built-bigger-than-my-house look still pretty much just plain on her face. "H-Hello Sebastian," She says, voice sounding strained as hell. I can see Sebastian hiding his obvious confusion. Dammit Mom, keep your shit together! She shakes his hand, her arm rigid and tense.
"Mrs. Hornitt," Sebastian says respectfully, but his eyes dart to mine for a half a second, questioning.
My mother's eyes find mine next and I can just plainly see her thoughts behind them: What. The. Fuck. I give her a quick scowl, to tell her to buck the hell up!! Don't act like he's some damn monster!! I mean, he is, but don't act like it!!
Dad is quicker to collect himself, and gestures to the table that we'd forgotten about. "I know you're here for homework," Dad, you little damned jerk. "But Lola made a nice supper if you'd like to sit down to join us before you set to work?"
Sebastian grins down at my dad, looking like the friendliest little fuck around town. I bet he wouldn't be looking half so calm if I hadn't warned him beforehand. Sebastian steps into the house, closing the door behind him and officially obliterating my sanity as he locks himself into my home with my parents. AC/DC's Highway to Hell is howling faintly from the stereo.
"Sure thing, Rodney,"
________________________________________________________ >xD
Taddahhhhhh!!! :D
You can hate me, I made another cliffhanger because I'm a complete jerk (mwahahahahaahah)
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