A/N: OFFICIAL STORY HAS BEGUN!
I was meant to upload Sunday, but my computer is a little bitch so it didn't work out. Sorry its late, and i really hope you like it!
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You want to know the most frustrating, irritating and ironic thing about this entire story though?
I wasn’t even mean to go to the Riverbank Riot this year.
I genuinely was going to skip the party for the first time since I was 13 years old. My parents had announced about 2 weeks before that we were taking an unexpected trip to London to stay with my grandmother for a week.
I was really excited. I only really got to see my grandmother on holidays because she lived quite far away, and I am being genuinely serious when I say this, my grandmother was a hero amongst zimmer frame owning heroes.
Seriously, she was 78 years old and still insisted on playing Ring of Fire every Christmas day and doing Tequila slammers on a Friday night with me when my mum and dad had gone to bed.
The woman could probably outdrink me on a night out in Vegas. She was an absolute legend.
So you can understand why I wasn’t too bothered about missing the party, it would be there next year so I was happy to skip it so I could spend a week with a woman who owned a free bus pass as well as a beer bong.
Frankie, my best friend, was pissed off though.
When I broke the news that I wasn’t going to attend the Riot with her this year, no word of a lie she went bitch f*cking crazy. At first, she tried to tell me that if I tried to leave, she would slash the wheels of our family car. Then she told me if I didn’t go to the party, she would start a rumour that I had both a vagina and a penis. When none of that fazed me, she resorted to a mixture of daily begging and death threats.
I think she was finally coming to terms with it though because she had reduced the pleading text messages to only 4 a day, which before was in the double figures.
Frankie was a very interesting character. We had basically grown up together. This was a small town so everyone has known each other since we were still learning how to control out bowel movements. We instantly became friends since our first day at little school, and we’ve just been together for all those years. We were pretty similar, like one person really.
I mean if Frankie drank a can of coke, I would burp it out. That kinda close. A gross kind of close.
You know you’ve got a keeper of a BFF when you feel comfortable enough to take a bath while the other one sits on the toilet keeping you company. And sometimes washing your hair when you can’t be bothered.
I swear though, neither of us were lesbians. They were assholes, but men were still our main choice.
Anyway, Frankie was a very…blunt girl. She was stunning, blonde hair to her shoulders, a heart shaped face and a body that many guys would put into the wank bank for sure. At first glance, she looked like your typical girl next door.
And then she opened her mouth.
I’ll give you an example of the type of girl she is. We once had to do a play in Drama class of Romeo and Juliet, only we could change it to make it modern. Do you know what Frankie did when it came to performing the final piece?
She turned up wearing a leather dress, a whip and handcuffs and tied the guy playing Romeo to a chair, claiming it was showing Romeo and Juliet in a modern 50 Shades of Grey world.
She got suspended for 3 days because of that stunt, and spent the 3 days hooking up with said Romeo.
That pretty much sums up Frankie in a nutshell. She was crazy, but I loved her like she was my own family because she basically was.
We matched up well. Most teachers have actually said we were a schools worst nightmare because one delinquent has found its soul mate. Like Bonnie and Clyde, only we both had vaginas and didn’t hook up. We both though that was a really cute quote to be honest, although I don’t think it was meant to have that impact.
Anyway, getting way off the subject, I wasn’t meant to attend the party this year. Due to some unforeseen, very unfortunate circumstances though, I ended up going.
Let me explain what happened.
It was Friday; middle of summer and the sun was shining high in the sky.
I was at my house, packing because tonight was meant to be the day me and my parents left to go to my grandmothers for the week. It was just me and my mum in the house as my dad was at work.
If only the little bastard really was where he said he was, this might not have happened.
Well, it would have still happened, I just would have been getting drunk with a 78 year old instead of slap bang in the middle of it.
“Honey, do you have any idea where my car keys are?” my mum asked as she walked into my room, her eyes widening as she sees the mess “Holy crap, was there an earthquake?”
“Ha-ha, very funny mother. No there was not an earthquake; it’s not even that bad.” I said, stepping over the mountain of shoes in the middle of the room in order to throw another jacket into my suitcase.
“Maybe if you were applying for ‘How Clean is Your House’…” She muttered, looking around the room in horror. Okay, it was a pretty big mess, but I had to figure out what I was going to bring for the week, and the only way to do that was to lay everything out and choose. Naturally, I went for the pigsty approach when it came to packing. My mum shakes her head, turning away from the mess “Have you seen my keys?”
“I can’t drive. Why would I have seen your keys?” I asked her, still throwing things into my case. Jesus, it looked like I was packing to immigrate.
My mum sighed “That means Sandra still has them.”
I looked up at her with a confused expression “Why the hell does she have your car keys?”
“Her car broke down and she had to go and do the food shopping yesterday so I let her borrow the car.” she explained.
“Is that even legal?” I wonder out loud. Are the Henderson’s insured on our car?
“She was only going to the shop, don’t be such a cop about it.” My mother dismisses my question. Yes, this is my parent. A teenage girl stuck in a 42 year old housewife’s body.
“Seriously, I know you guys are close but lending her your car? You won’t even lend me the car.”
“That’s because you don’t have a license.”
“So? I’m your daughter. You should give me what I want.” I tell her, trying to keep a straight face.
She glared at me, also trying not to laugh “It’s not like you haven’t borrowed the car without asking anyway…”
Before I could stop it, a smirk rose to my lips “Me and Frankie wanted pizza. The busses weren’t running after 11.” I tried to defend, remembering that night very clearly.
I thought my dad was going to have a seizure the vein on his forehead was so big from anger. My mum was pissed, but she saw the funny side to it now I’ve done my punishment. You mention it to my dad however, and he still goes a slight shade of purple. He looks a little like a mixture of Barney the Dinosaur and The Devil.
“Anyway, could you please run over to their house and get them? I need to run to the shop and pick up a few bits and pieces before we leave.”
I let out a painful groan “Why can’t you run over? I don’t want to go; you know going over there is like being locked in that house from Saw to me.”
“Because I still have to pack my suitcase and your dads, and you’re younger than me your legs are more limber.” She clarified “I don’t get why you hate going over there so much, Sandra and Tom are lovely to you.”
“It’s not them that are the problem…” I muttered, stuffing a pair of jeans in my suitcase a little more forcefully than I needed to.
Let me explain who the Henderson’s are.
Basically, my father worked in a finance company and his colleague was Sandra Henderson. She and her husband lived across the street from us, and because my dad worked with her and they lived so close by, my parents formed this really annoying friendship with them that meant I spend many evenings having to sit through dinners and watching 40 year olds get drunk on red wine and talking about the golden years.
To be honest, this was not what bothered me. I liked Sandra and Tom; they cooked a stunning lasagne and always put money in my card for my birthday and Christmas, which I appreciated. (Seriously, for those people who give birthday and Christmas cards with no money in it, I hope you get run over by a military tank for getting a kid’s hopes up like that then shattering them) Plus, watching four fully grown adults drunk around a dinner table was quite entertaining.
The problem I had though?
The son.
Archie Henderson.
How to sum up Archie Henderson?
Imagine an asshole. Then stop.
Honestly, this kid was the bane of my existence. I’ve known him since we were little, and even at a young age he would get his kicks from throwing play dough at my head and pulling my pants down in front of the whole class in the middle of swimming lessons.
We got along when we had to, mostly because our parents were so close we were forced to spend an unnatural amount of time with each other. When we were 11, we actually went to Spain together for a week.
I’ve never wanted to throw someone off a plane so much in my life. I woke up one morning, struggling to breathe, and realised he had shoved two of his mums tampons in my nostrils while I was asleep. They were clean obviously, although I wouldn’t put it past him to recycle if he knew it would piss me off enough.
We went to the same school, and majority of the time we managed to stay out of each other’s way. We had to spend enough time together out of school, so school funnily enough was like a break.
During school times though, he was normally too busy nailing the cheerleaders in empty classrooms and the toilets to really pay much attention to anything else. Here comes the cliché, he was a hoe.
That boy had stuck his penis in more holes than a master key.
He was a known player, and yet all these girls still blushed and batted their eyelashes like it was going out of fashion whenever he would speak to them, or even walk past them. He was popular at our school, not only for being a complete man slut, but also because -and I hate to say it myself- he was hilarious.
He pissed me off when we were alone, but at school the kid was a self-proclaimed comedian. He and his friends were a force to be reckoned with at our school. Any girl they wanted, they could have. Any guy who pissed them off, they would probably hang him up upside down in the gym wearing nothing but boxers and gagged with an apple and Cellotape.
I didn’t make that up. They did it to Ben King last year because Ben claimed Archie and Gavin (his best friend) were gay for each other.
The most frustrating thing about it though, I wasn’t Archie’s biggest fan obviously, but even I couldn’t deny the fact the boy put hot into a new scale. There was a reason he got away with sleeping with so many girls, his looks mixed with his charm, then throw in that grin he does and it is like a silent command for the girl’s underwear to just fly off.
Proud to say however, that my underwear has stayed firmly wrapped around my ass and lady area when it comes to that boy. I’ve known him too long, spent too much time with him to let that shit work on me. He’s tried, believe me most of the comments that come out of his mouth have something to do with my mouth and his penis, but I’ve just accepted it as something I have to just put up with and occasionally smack out of his head.
“If it’s Archie you're worried about, he’s not in. I saw him leaving the house earlier with some guy.” My mum informed me, knowing very well how Archie gets on not only on my last nerve, but the nerves embedded in that nerve “I don’t know why you two don’t get alone, me and Sandra always hoped you would end up together.”
“I’m aware; you mention it every time they are coming round.”
“Well, why don’t you do it then?” my mother was almost whining. I swear my love life was an episode of Gossip Girl to this woman.
“Because the idea of getting with Archie Henderson is about as appealing as drinking a smoothie made of sh*t and worms.” I replied without a hesitation.
“Language.” She warned, before scrunching her face in disgust “Jesus Summer you paint quite a picture.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, pretty proud of that one.
She rolled her eyes “Look just run over there and get my keys.” She tells me as she turned to leave the room “Breaking your mother’s heart here though, I want my grandchildren to be pretty.” She commented before she was completely out of sight.
See, even my mother admitted that Archie Henderson was a sight for sore eyes.
Unfortunately, he was also a pain in my ass.
With about as much enthusiasm as a fat kid ready to run a marathon, I groaned and started to make my way over across the road to the Henderson’s house.
I knocked on the door and waited patiently. No one came for about 5 whole minutes, and I started to wonder if anyone was even home. I quickly glanced through the window to see any form of life, and I could faintly see the hallway light on telling me someone was actually in.
About 10 minutes after I rang the doorbell, the door finally flew open to reveal a very rough looking Sandra. I tried to hide my surprise, and amusement, at how flustered she looked. She looked like she had just sprinted around the street. He cheeks were red and her hair was a mess.
I didn’t want to say it out loud, but that was sex hair. You could tell from a mile away dear old Sandra was getting down and dirty mere moments ago with Tom. It was gross to think about, because if you are a parent and over the age of 30, you should have forgotten what sex even means.
“Summer hi, sorry I took so long.” She said, out of breath.
I tried to hide my laughter, pressing my lips together hard to do so.
“That’s fine you were clearly busy.” I couldn’t help myself “My mum just asked to pop round and pick up her car keys. She’s going OCD since we’re leaving tonight.”
She nodded her head “Of course, you're leaving for London tonight aren’t you?”
“Yeah, a whole week away from good old Riverbank.” I smiled at her, and she returned it.
“Okay let me just grab them.” She turned quickly and headed for the living room. I was a little surprised she didn’t ask me to come in, but because I enjoyed annoying people I let myself in anyway.
I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Tom in his boxers, just so I had some ammunition towards Archie next time he tormented me. I could conjure up a few ‘Your dad’ jokes from this experience.
I walked into the living room and stood there awkwardly, my eyes scanning the room but realising her naked husband who was probably still sporting a hard on must be upstairs. Shame, for a dad, Tom Henderson was actually pretty hot. You know, in the kind of Bruce Willis type of way in Die Hard.
DILF is the term used in today’s modern age I believe.
Sandra walked back into the room from the kitchen a little startled that I had just walked in, but she couldn’t say anything clearly. Especially once I gave her my friendliest smile.
“There you go. I hope you and your family have a good holiday.” She handed me the keys and gave me a little smile, clearly trying to get rid of me.
I let out a laugh, realising she was keen to get back upstairs and continue being the good little wife.
“We will don’t worry, you haven’t met my grandmother. Being bored with her is like being bored in Disneyland.” I informed her, and she let out a laugh.
I turned to walk out of the living room in order to return to my house and attempt to sort out my bomb site of a room.
As I walked out of the room however, something caught my eye.
On the sofa right by the door, was a suit jacket and tie.
Now I know this doesn’t sound like a big deal. I mean, you must be thinking Tom just came home and in a heat of passion threw his clothes on the sofa before he went back to having some middle of the day sex with his wife.
That would be the natural explanation. There was only one problem with that though.
Tom was a builder.
Now, why would a builder come back from work wearing a suit and tie?
Not exactly the appropriate work attire is it?
The other thing that made me freeze to the spot was the tie. It was a black tie, nothing out of the ordinary…Except for the tiny white cross pattern on it.
My stomach dropped as I realised that was the exact tie I gave my dad for his birthday last year.
I instantly felt fury wash over my body as I put the pieces together in my head, and I turned towards Sandra who was looking at me with a confused expression.
“Where is he?” I demanded, and I instantly saw the panic rise to her face.
“Who?” A liar she was not. Well she was, but not a good one because Stevie Wonder could have seen right through that.
The disgust in my face must have been clear as I looked at her, and before I could stop myself I turned and headed straight for the stairs.
“Summer, wait!” Sandra was right behind me “Please Summer don’t!”
As I reached the top of the stairs she grabbed my arm in an attempt to stop me. I span around and snatched my arm away.
“Unless you want me to throw you down these stairs, do not touch me.” I warned, my voice like venom. She was taken aback by my threat, and I turned around again and headed for the room which I knew was the bedroom.
I basically punched the door open, and sure enough my suspicion was confirmed.
There, lying under the duvet and naked from the waist up, was my father.
His eyes instantly widened as he saw me, and I think he was too surprised to move because he just sat there staring at me as if I was going to magically disappear. Like I was a really bad nightmare.
I shook my head, sick almost at the back of my throat.
“You dirty, disgusting pig.” I spat.
“Summer, I can explain.” He lifted his hand, his way of telling me to calm down.
“Don’t even bother feeding me any bullshit. So this is your idea of work is it?” I asked, pointing at Sandra who was stood behind me looking completely helpless “This? Doing this?”
“Summer please calm down-“
“CALM DOWN?!” I was screaming now, so furious I couldn’t even come close to describing it “You’re cheating on mum with her supposed best friend! With your best friend’s wife!”
“I know it looks bad-“I cut Sandra off, her voice making me feel physically sick.
“No it doesn’t look bad, it is bad! How could you both do this? Did you ever think about how this is going to affect everyone? Or were you too busy f*cking each other’s brains out for anything else to come to your mind?”
“Summer, watch your mouth.” My father warned.
My eyes almost popped out of my skull “No I will not watch my f*cking mouth. You have no right to say anything remotely parental to me right now!”
He looked down, ashamed because he knew I was right.
“How long has this been going on?” I asked, my fists actually clenching besides me. Neither of them answered straight away “I swear to God if one of you doesn’t answer my question, I'm going to destroy this house.”
“It’s been about a month.” My father finally responded, realising I was not bluffing. I would start smashing up this house like I was getting paid for it if it came down to it.
“A month?” I repeated in disbelief “So while my mother has been cooking dinner and having you around her house, you’ve been doing her husband is that it?” I seethed looking at Sandra.
She didn’t look me in the eyes, the guilt clear on her face.
“You absolute bitch.” I spit out.
“Summer, it’s not entirely black and white.” My father tried to reason.
“Pretty black and white to me, clearly not to a pair of cheaters like you though. You sleep with someone else behind your husband or wife’s back, that’s cheating. Black and pearly f*cking white.” I was so angry the swear words were coming out like they were the only thing in my vocabulary “So you don’t want to be with mum anymore, is that it?”
My dad shakes his head “No, I love your mother-“
“Shows.” I cut in, gesturing my head towards Sandra like she was a piece of dog crap on my floor.
He sighed “I made a mistake, this means nothing.”
“He’s right; it was just a massive mistake Summer.” Sandra decided to speak up “Its stopping. I love my husband I just made a stupid decision.”
I laughed without a trace of humour “This is the bit where you beg me to keep my mouth shut right?”
Sandra swallowed, and I get my answer. I turned to my dad, his eyes almost pleading.
“You're really going to ask me to do this? Lie to mum to cover up your sordid little affair?” I asked him; not believing my own father actually expected me to do this.
“I never meant to hurt her Summer.” His voice was low.
“YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BEFORE YOU BANGED THE NEIGHBOUR!” Wow, that outburst shocked even me. Sandra jumped as I spoke, clearly not expecting the volume to rise quite that high. I clenched my fists together “I’m not lying to her, I can’t and the fact you would expect me to makes you an even bigger pig.”
“Summer please, we’re meant to be going on Holiday tonight for a week, let’s just get through that and talk about it when we get back?” he was begging now.
I shake my head in disgust “You want to play happy families for a week, you go ahead. If you think I'm going on holiday with you for a week then you’ve clearly bumped your head.” I turned to Sandra in repulsion “On the headboard of her bed probably.”
“Summer let’s just get through this week.” My dad pleaded “Please?”
I stared at him, not believing he was really asking this of me.
“You go to London with mum, or you stay here. I don’t care.” I inform him “I don’t want to spend a second longer in your company right now.”
I turned and headed for the door. I briefly make out someone moving behind me and when I reached the front door, I felt someone grab my arm and turn me round.
My dad was looking at me, his face desperate. He was wearing nothing but his boxers, which made me actually queasy knowing he was this naked because he was having sex less than 15 minutes ago. It’s bad enough picturing your dad having sex with your own mother, let alone someone else.
“Please Summer, don’t tell her.” He was frantic now I could tell. As much as I hated myself for it, he was my dad. Even though I hated him right now and wanted to throttle him, he was still my dad.
So this is why I came up with this decision.
“I won’t tell her.” I declared, and he instantly breathed a sigh of relief “You will.”
The relief was cut short as he was taken aback by what I said.
“I can’t, it will destroy her you know that.”
“You should have thought about that before you did it!” I snapped “I’m not coming to London. There is no way I can spend a week hiding and pretending everything is fine and dandy. I’m going to Frankie’s for the weekend, but by the time I get back Monday you better have told her dad or I swear, I will.”
I didn’t even wait for a response; I just snatched my arm out of his grasp and turned to the door. I walked out and slammed the front door shut so hard it literally echoed across my street. Our neighbour who was trimming his hedges actually jumped as he heard it. Poor bastard almost took his own eye out.
I stormed back over to my house, but I couldn’t go in yet. I couldn’t go in there and face my mum knowing I was going to lie to her and pretend nothing happened. I sat on the pavement, resting my head on my knees as I let out a breath not believing that just actually happened.
I knew my mum and dad had problems, but I never knew it was that bad. Everyone has problems, not everyone sticks it to the neighbour lady to relieve the stress of these problems though.
There was no way I was going away with them for a whole week that just wasn’t happening. I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and began to text Frankie. She was probably going to cry with joy when she got my text.
I told my dad I wasn’t going to be around for a weekend, and I really wasn’t because tonight is the first night of the Riverbank Riot.
When you get into a difficult situation and need to relieve some stress, the method many teenagers used -and adults actually- is to get so drunk you don’t remember your own name, let alone your problems.
So that is what I was going to do, I was going to go to this party this weekend and I was going to spend the next 3 days being intoxicated with my best friend on school property.
That is how I made the decision to attend the Riverbank Riot, because I wanted a fun weekend and leave my troubles behind me.
Little did I know, my troubles hadn’t even begun.
I could have spent the week doing shots with my OAP grandmother in her rocking chair, but no, my father couldn’t keep his pecker in his trousers so I ended up in an after school special of ‘I Know What You Did Last Summer.’
Cheers daddy dearest, I owe you one.
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A/N: Hope you liked it! Promised you it was still going to be humour even though it is a thriller! Please vote and comment and let me know what you think! or i get very self concious hahaa much love my crazy little soldiers xx