Now That Summer Is Over (Mark Anastasio)

Chapter one: My Mother the Devil

If only I could stay here forever.

There's something about a shower, the feel of the water running over your body, washing away all your stress. If I could spend my life under running water, I probably would. But I'll have to get out sooner or later. With a sigh I dunked my head under the shower head one last time, before turning the water off and stepping out onto the bathmat. This house, unlike the last one we lived in, had three bathrooms instead of two. This meant that Mom and Dad got a bathroom, and Ethan and I didn't have to share.

Thank fucking God for that.

Sharing a bathroom with my little brother really wasn't too bad, except for the fact that he liked to soak in a bath for half an hour, and I liked to take ten minute showers throughout the day. And, it's pretty hard to convince a ten year old to get off his new phone when he's on the toilet. Ethan got that phone for his birthday, and was overjoyed as any kid would be. Little did he know I had to wait until I was twelve to get mine. We were relatively happy then, still clinging on to the hope that we might not have to move ever again.

But the army said 'fuck that' and deployed Dad across the country, again.

Even now Ethan probably still hoped we'd stay in this neighbourhood, but I knew better. Knowing better is one of my talents. That, and looking hot. I would say my hair is one of my best features, dirty blond and wavy. I was born with blond hair, but gradually it darkened, just like my father's. I inherited my mother's blue eyes, but with a splash of green. I'd use the term 'ocean blue' although I've heard others say teal, cyan, torquiest and more. No matter what you want to call it, my eyes were not quite blue, and not quite green.

Soccer kept me lean and fit for most of my life, but after my twelfth birthday, my father recommended I start upper body, lower body and core exercises using body weight. Now at age seventeen I have good muscle definition on my arms and torso, thanks to my morning exercise routine. I glanced briefly at my physique in the mirror, five foot nine and dripping with water, before I dried myself off and combed my hair. Downstairs I could still hear Ethan and his friend laughing in front of the tv, as I crossed the hall to my bedroom. By the time I had dressed in blacks and a white button-up shirt, mom had set them to setting the table.

Only seven places, I observed as I entered the dining room. Dad must be staying out overnight again.

For most people, seeing your father once or twice a week must be hard, but Ethan and I have gotten used to it. After a while you learn that what matters is the time you have together, rather than all the time spent apart.

"Ah, Jacob." My mother called, catching sight of me. "Help me with this salad, and get some bowls from the cupboard." I obliged as she rushed to the door, seeing through the wide windows that a car had pulled up in front of the house.

Mr. and Mrs. Johnsen seemed nice enough. Both had bright smiles when they saw that their son Charlie had helped set the table for dinner.

"I can never get him to do anything around the house." Mrs. Johnsen marvelled, handing my mom a bottle of red wine she had brought. "However did you manage it?" Mr. Johnsen gave me a brief nod and shook my hand in a vice-like grip, which I returned with a small smile. It was only when Mrs. Johnsen introduced us to her daughter that I saw the brown haired girl of about sixteen, lurking by the doorway. "This is Lela." She smiled shyly at me, before quickly looking away. I often had that effect on girls.

Dinner itself turned out to be less of a bore than I expected, with the Johnsens talking mostly about how good a friend Ethan was to their son Charlie, and Lela trying her best to not stare at me the whole time. I managed to keep quiet by shovelling forkfuls of food into my mouth at a steady rate. I was just thinking about making an excuse to vanish when my mother's voice cut through my thoughts, shattering any plans for escape.

"Jacob!"

"What?"

"Our guest asked you a question." I looked blankly around the table, before Charlie repeated his question.

"What- what-" He stammered, trailing off and looking at the floor.

Good, I thought. Be afraid.

Lela surpassed a chuckle, earning her a glare from her mother. Charlie tried again. "What- what do you do for fun?"

"Soccer." I responded, returning to my dinner.

"Why do you like soccer?" Charlie pressed. I sighed and set down my fork.

"Soccer is good for lower body and cardio. It also has a strong mental component, and requires you to work as a team."

There. Textbook answer.

"Would you like to pursue soccer as a career?" Queried Mrs. Johnsen.

"Not full time, but possibly as a hobby. I plan to apply for military college and join the armed forces when I'm done with school." Mr. Johnsen nodded, impressed.

"Lela is considering law as a career, isn't that right dear?" Lela gave a half nod to her mother, she seemed more interested in sneaking glances at me than really participating in the conversation. "Her great grandfather was a rather successful lawyer. Anyways, she has taken up an interest in sports recently. Maybe Jacob could teach her a thing or two about soccer?" Lela's whole face flushed crimson, but my mother nodded in response.

"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Jacob's been short on friends and besides, it will be good practice for that soccer camp he plans to attend over the summer." My fork froze halfway between the plate and my mouth, my lips opened slightly.

Well played mother, you crafty devil. Well played.

In one sentence she had found me a 'friend' and practically written in stone that I would be shipped off this summer. I glared at her, but my mother looked back with a cool gaze that seemed to say; "try me."

You'd like that wouldn't you? To have me offend them in order to win. Well I'm not going to even give you the satisfaction of gloating over me.

I wiped my mouth on a napkin and stood.

"Mr. and Mrs. Johnsen, thank you so much for coming over tonight, your company was much enjoyed. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be out back practising some foot-work. Lela is more than welcome to join me." Lela's eyes lit up as I dipped my head, and headed up to my room to change. I swear I could hear my mother's voice as I climbed the stairs;

"I knew he would make the right decision, he always does." Little does she know how right she is.