missy's lips- krist novoselic x oc

chapter two: (not) so fast times at aberdeen high

I lived a week in the 80s and so far everything still felt like an absolute fever dream. Every morning I'd wake up, my left hand would scour my bedside table trying to find my phone before realising that I was

1) stuck in the 1980s with no family and a guy I only barely knew and then
2) apart of some kind of Truman Show experiment with fucking Kurt Cobain of all people.

Tiff and Adam didn't seem to care all that much though, I guess since this was Tiffany's job she was used to it and as long as Adam could skate and smoke weed he was content. I however, was not taking it well at all. I rummaged through my "bedroom" to find anything I owned in my real life however it was just 80s style clothing and a few pieces of jewellery. I had to admit though, the Duran Duran and Talking Heads posters on my wall were super cool. Aside from that I stayed in bed and either stared at the ceiling, praying that I'd return to my present day self or slept. I rarely ventured outside of my room, only emerging for meals in our dated 70s style kitchen and to babysit Marla, Tiffany's biological daughter.

Oh shit yeah, Marla. For some stupid reason Tiffany, at her wise old age of 33 decided that taking in two teenagers wasn't hard enough and that she needed the company of her actual four year old daughter. Which didn't even make sense because most of Marla's time was spent at our "grandparents" house rather than ours, so it was redundant bringing her in the first place.

"So, to every who is not us, I am considered your biological mother and Marla your biological sister. Easy enough to handle?" Tiffany looked at us through the rearview mirror. She was driving Adam and I to our very first day at an American school, the thought of which only fueled my high strung nerves (even more so with Tiffany's defiance of the speed limit). I knew this information already though. In my days of solitude I had read the binder Tiffany had given us, which detailed a convoluted backstory to our 80s lives that sounded eerily similar to the premise of Gilmore Girls but Tiffany denied any plagiarism. Not that I intended to recite my "backstory" to anyone, at Weatherwax High I was ready to keep my head down and stay out of as much shit as possible. High school was already painful for me back in Australia in the 21st century, I didn't need another year of it in some small American town. The only sliver of hope I had was Tiffany's efforts to get me out, which according to her, was a long bureaucratic process that she could only work on when she wasn't working as a seamstress.

I stared out the window, gazing over the boarded up businesses and homes set against gloomy skies looking to rain any second. God this place is a shithole, I thought. It explained why Kurt Cobain was so depressed at the very least.

"Woah," Tiffany exclaimed as the car swerved right. I snapped out of my window daze with a bump to the head. "Sorry," she chuckles, "I keep veering to the left, fuck this right side of the road shit!"

"Oi Tiffany what are we supposed to do when you drop us off," asked Adam, who seemed to be a bit keener than I was.

"Just go to the office and you two will figure it out from there. I don't have time to explain this, I'm like 10 minutes late for work." She braked suddenly, stopping just a few metres away from the entrance of the school. "Now get out of my car. Don't do anything stupid and keep on the down low."

Adam and I rushed out and I could hear Tiffany yell "I love you!" as the car sped off.

"So where the fuck are we supposed to go?" Adam asks me as we headed our way indoors, walking past swaths of students who looked like they'd be extras in Stranger Things.

"Well, probably the office that's what Tiffany said to do," I turned my head to look at him but Adam had already taken off, which was not unlike him to do. This was the same bloke who, at our 8th birthday party at Maccas, decided to walk next door to KFC and not tell anyone, which almost resulted in a missing persons report. "For fuck sake," I mumbled under my breath.