𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝 ℝ𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕒𝕝

Ignored

"What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Mom asks as she puts the groceries in the pantry and the fridge.

I nervously took the boiled potatoes from the pot and threw them on a bowl with cold water. I hate cooking but there's no other option when it comes to helping mom to cook.

"Well... you know how I've done extremely shitty in school? I think I came up with the solution to that problem... though you might not approve. I really wanna do it, though."

She sighs and shakes her head, taking out ingredients for mashed potatoes on my side.

"What is your brilliant plan this time? I don't want to get called to school again because you bitch-slapped your arts teacher. Or worse... spilled another smoothie on the English teacher."

"No, mom... I won't hurt any teacher this time. I think I want to drop out..." With every word that came out of my mouth, my voice level lowered and lowered until I was whispering to myself.

"What?" She asks, I sigh and start peeling the potatoes. Don't you hate the feeling of the skin of a potato against your hands? It's like weirdly sticky and it makes me wanna rip out my-

"I wanna drop outta high school, ma." I confidently speak up this time, but I regretted instantly saying that because of how crushed she looked.

"John, are you mental? What is wrong with you?! You first put your hair up in pigtails for your yearbook picture and now this? No, you need to go to school until you're eighteen and graduate!"

"No, ma. I don't wanna go to school anymore. And the pigtails were fun."

"Why not? Your teachers are very nice people, they have been patient with you for so long now. You need a year and a half to leave anyway, it won't hurt to to stay and try to get yourself together."

"Mom, it's a waste of time. Everything they're 'teaching' is slavery, DNA shit, essay writing, and algebra. I already know all of that. It's boring me to death!"

"You're too young! You need to get an education, this is too risky! What will everyone say about you? Mind putting this on the table?" I take the rotisserie chicken from her hands and run to the table before I hurry back to her.

But then I realize what she said.

"Really, mom? You care more about what your friends are gonna say about me than supporting me? I told you I will make it out there, I know it. Fuck! I fucking feel it in my guts!"

She rests her hands on the kitchen counter, a loud sigh escapes her lips before she shakes her head disapprovingly.

"Fine, John. I'll go with you tomorrow to school and we will try to get you out. But you need to find a job because I don't want a couch potato in my house."

"Thank you, mom! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!" I jump enthusiastically, bringing her in my arms as I am blinded by joy and happiness.

Our little moment is interrupted by my step-dad, Giordano who clears his throat loudly enough to get our attention. I pull away from mom and turn to see him, who crossed his arms.

"Giordano, dinner is almost ready. I just need to finish making the broccoli and John is helping me make the mashed potatoes." Mom explains.

"Thank you, darling... I heard about what you want to do, young man. You should not quit going to school to pursue a musical career. What will happen if you don't make it? You need something to support you."

I sigh and turn my back on him, as I finish making the stupid potatoes.

Salt.

Fuck him!

Pepper.

Asshole!

Butter.

He's not even my dad!

And milk.

I mumble under my breath. We sit on the dining table, Eric gets put on his high chair and we say a quick prayer before we start eating.

"How was your day today, darling?" Giordano asks mom, as always, I get ignored by both while their baby is here.

"Not bad, how was work for you?"

"Exhausting."

"John, mind getting me one of Eric's napkins from the dryer? Thank you." I nod and walk to the laundry room in the backyard, getting a clean napkin.

I always liked how baby stuff smelled, it's so weird that the 'baby scent' is so fucking addictive. I put the napkin on my nose and inhale as much baby smell as I could before they could see and call me weird.

When I sit on the dining table again, I hand her the napkin. I then look at Eric, disgusted by how he ate his small piece of chicken, also seeing the fucking mess he made on his chair with the mashed potatoes I tried my hardest making.

I learned to make these in cooking class and let me tell you it was the first class I ever passed since I was in tenth grade. But these... they're the best I had ever made in my short life.

"Stop looking at your brother like that." Mom says, taking my attention away from that little demon.

"Looking at him like what? Also, he's not my brother."

"He is your brother, John. And you're looking at him like if he disgusts you." She defends him and cleans his dirty face.

"It's not like he's a neat eater, you hate messes too." After we have all finished dinner, I was left in charge of cleaning and washing everyone's dishes as mom and her husband play with their fucking son.

After I finished cleaning around, I decided to relax out in the porch and sit to look at the sky. I shut the door behind me to block their baby-talk to the toddler in the living room and sit on the steps of the porch.

I see blonde hair flowing around with the wind as one of the Fiocchi kids does a cartwheel and laughter immediately echoes in the whole block. I strain my sight so I can see her better and damn...

Since when did Veronica Fiocchi grow boobs?