SCRAWNY; stanley barber x fem!reader

[ 02. stan the uber driver ]

y/n's pov

"Hi, honey. Can you come to the kitchen please?" I heard my mom say as I walked into the house.

"Uh, okay."

I walked in to see Oliver sitting by the counter and both my parents standing across from him.

"What's going on?" I asked and Oliver shrugged.

"Take a seat." My dad spoke and I took my jacket off and sat down beside my brother.

"Your father and I need to tell you something."

"Are you getting divorced?" I asked.

"No—"

"Are you pregnant?"

My dad chuckled.

"Guys, listen." He said and we went quiet.

"Near the end of the year, we're moving."

Both Oliver and I froze.

"What... Like, house?" My brother asked. "Like— A new house? Not here?"

"Yes."

"Are we moving far? Why are we moving?"

"Your mother got an offer—"

"An offer for what?" I cut my dad off.

"A new job." She replied.

"Why— What's wrong with your old one?" Oliver asked. "Can't you just keep the one you have now?"

"I get a better pay, a higher position—"

Oliver stood up and shoved his chair as he stormed off upstairs, most likely to his room. I looked up at my parents, who both had rather sad faces.

I slowly made my way out of the kitchen and to my own room.

I would have to make new friends, learn my way around a new town, get a new job, it'll be like a whole new life. I sighed and slumped down onto my bed. It all seemed too hard. I had my friends here, I'd grown up here my whole life, I worked at the bowling alley with Stan.

It was only 5:30 but that was when I decided to sleep. I definitely needed some after that.

———

| hey
| do you want a ride to school?

Those were the texts I woke up to the next morning, still in my clothes from the day before. I didn't feel like walking or taking the shitty school bus, plus it was Stan. I could never say no to him.

yeah |
thanks stan |

| no problem
| i'll be there at 8

I put my phone down before taking off my sweater, then my shirt. I changed and did my hair before going downstairs to find my jacket. Well, I was going to. I walked downstairs to find Dad making pancakes as Mom brewed coffee.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Breakfast."

"Oh."

"Can you go get your brother?" Dad asked. "Pancakes are ready."

As if on cue, Oliver's footsteps came thumping downstairs.

"What's going on?" He stopped when he reached the kitchen. "Why's everyone in here?"

"We're all having breakfast together." Mom said as she poured orange juice into a glass and handed it to me.