Fergus sits down in his bedroom, dull orange and slightly octagonal. On the walls posters of various obscure eighties bands and various independent video games and a large bulletin board, chronicling his friendship with Rowan, relationship with his older brother Curtis and his mother.
His brother doesn't look at all like him or his mother. He has blond hair, blue eyes and pale skin. His mother, a red head with green eyes and freckles. Lots and lots of freckles. That's whom Fergus looks like. His mum, not his brother.
"Broski, come here!" He calls for Curtis who, stumbles in, eyes bleary and hair messy.
"What do you want?" He asks, running his hand over his face and putting his glasses back on.
"Lots of things. A pair of decent jeans, the new Mortal Kombat game, a computer, a good telescope, a t-shirt with a witty slogan, that fifty you owe me from the poker tournament a new copy of the 50th anniversary 'Rebel Without A Cause' DVD-"
"What do you need this second, that you called me for? Also, there is a 'Rebel Without a Cause 50th anniversary DVD?"
"Uh huh. It's incredibly rare and there are only what a hundred copies in the world. They are priceless."
"So, what do you need?" Curtis asks and perches on the edge of his bed.
"Ah, that. I need some rice or something to remove coffee from paper."
Curtis laughs. "Was this your homework or something?"
"No, it's something else."
"What?"
"I illegally stole some files on a girl who had sex with the most popular boy in school, because she is failing all classes that involve speaking and she is supposed to go to Harvard."
Curtis laughs, and then Fergus laughs. "No, really. Why?"
"Just some papers, I don't really want to hand them in coffee stained." Fergus replies. "I'm already finished, I don't really want to rewrite the entire thing and then hand it back in."
"Get some bleach and then just lightly rub the stain with paper towel."
"Okay, thanks broski."
"You do know I really dislike that term."
"What term? You're my bro, therefore when I add ski because gran is Bulgarian I just like adding ski to the end of things."
"That makes zero sense."
"I know."
Curtis smiles and ruffles Fergus' hair as the door downstairs opens. "I'm back home boys. Have you had tea yet?"
Fergus jumps off the bed and hurries down the stairs. His mum always brings back Danish pastries from the café that taste amazing and smell just as incredible.
Cecelia Mitchell works as a waitress in a little café on the corner of Stanford and Bishop Street. Thirty-six years old and mother of two, Cecelia struggles to put decent food on the table and pay for Curtis' university tuition. He's studying the supposed art of Advanced Engineering.
"Mum! You have a Danish?"
Cecelia drapes her brown trench coat over the stair rail and unties her white and red-checkered apron. "Can you put this in the washing machine? I'll get the food out if you do that."
"Of course mum." Fergus says as she hands him her apron and he races upstairs, quick as the Flash.
"Curtis! Do you want a doughnut or do you want some chocolate cheesecake?"
YOU ARE READING
Explicit
Ficção Adolescente"Why do you swear?" "To prove that there are worse things in the world then a simple word." In which a shy girl and a bold boy learn what is acceptable and not. Deanna is quiet, cold and scared of her own shadow. Fergus is bold, bright and indestru...
