Bull-shit, I Don't Do Love

Chapter 4 - In which we meet the fam.

I walked around in the school for a bit, waiting for the parking lot to clear. Finally, after a good fifteen minutes of aimless wandering I headed out to my car. His name is Junior, by the way.

That's right. I named my car.

On the drive home, I blasted the radio and rocked out at the stoplights. Too quickly I arrived at the two story townhouse my mom, my sis and I had moved into. Parking my car along the side of the street and following the small path to the front door, I hummed quietly to myself. It wasn't until I'd had my keys in the door that I noticed the ridiculously loud music coming from inside.

Brittany, my fourteen year old, blonde haired, blue eyed smart ass of a sister, was dancing in the living room. Or what could be considered a living room. The dark blue walls were partially covered in recently hung photographs of Brittany and I. Our long, dark brown couch filled most of the room and our large flat screen TV sat atop a wood stand filled with photos and books. The rest of the room was filled with half rummaged through boxes.

"What are you doing?" I stared expectantly at Brittany.

She walked over, picked up the TV remote and turned down the music. "Nothing. Doing homework. Studying. All that good stuff."

See. I told you. Smart ass. "Very funny, smart alec. Where's mom?"

I followed Brittany into the kitchen. "She left a note. Said she was going to work. Gone till ten."

I glanced over at the pink post it note on our stainless steel fridge. "Did she leave anything for dinner?" I took another glance around the kitchen. The light brown cabinets looked worn but paired well with the dark countertops. Another note was set next to the sink. Left some money on the stove. Buy dinner with it. Be good. -Mom Well there's true parenting for you. I grabbed the money off the stove and put it in my pocket. "Britt, check the fridge. Is there still some hamburgers in there?"

A breeze of cold air flew past me. "Yeah, and there's half a bag of French fries."

"Good. Then burgers and fries it is."

Britt and I decided to wait a few hours to eat dinner so I went up the narrow stairs to my room. The hallway at the top of the stairs held three doors. One for my room, one for my mom, one for Britt. My mom had her own bathroom but Britt and I had to share the one downstairs. I opened the door on the left and shuffled inside. My room's about the size of a large closet. It's got a twin bed, with a baby blue bed spread and several matching pillows, and a small desk, cluttered with boxes and papers, in the corner. I tossed my coat and bag onto the green rolling chair next to my desk and threw myself onto my bed. Did I have any homework? Did I want to do it? What was my mom doing? Where's Britt? What's up with that one guy? I wonder what school will be like tomorrow. As my mind raced, I felt myself slowing closing my eyes.

"Ana!" I bolted out of bed and threw open the door.

"What?! What's wrong? Britt?! Where are you? Where's the fire extinguisher? Call the police!" I yelled as I flew down the stairs. I came to a halt at the bottom.

"Seriously," Brittany stood in the living room with her hands on her tiny hips, "You're a freak. I'm hungry. No need to call the fire department."

I pouted for a moment. "I said the police, you dummy." She let out a quick laugh and walked into the kitchen.

We spent the next half hour or so cooking dinner. Then we sat down at the counter and ate our burgers and fries. In between mouthfuls I asked Britt about school.

"It was good. I met some new people. This girl in my English class let me sit with her at lunch. Her name's Alexa. She's really nice."

We talked a bit longer, washed our dishes and went to watch a movie on the TV. Before I knew it we had fallen asleep.

Around eleven or so, I heard keys in the lock and watched as my mother walked into the house. She was tall, 5'10", with long legs and long curly hair like mine. She must've been beautiful once but years of stress and denial made her look tired and worn out. She was still beautiful, in a way, but that kind of beautiful that's only seen in flashes, in rare moments of peace. Her job at the local law office was taking its toll. Ever since we'd moved here a month ago, she'd been working long hours, many times late into the night. I never knew for sure what she was working on but I knew it was important. Why else would she be away from her kids so much?

I could tell she was exhausted so I pretended I was still asleep. I heard her sigh quietly as she approached the kitchen. The fridge door opened and closed and I heard her footsteps go up the stairs. I waited a moment longer before sitting up slowly, opening a box close to the couch and pulling out a bundle of blankets. I adjusted Brittany and myself and covered us up with the blankets. Britt curled up to my side and I promptly fell into oblivion once more.

I awoke to the smell of coffee. I could hear bustling in the kitchen as I opened my eyes. The couch beside me, where Britt had once laid, was empty. All that was left was a crumpled up blanket. I wiped my eyes and sat up slowly.

"Mom," a small voice said from the stairway, "Have you seen my blue cardigan?" Brittany appeared at the bottom of the stairs with dark ripped jeans and a white tank top. She smiled when she saw me. "Hey An. We gotta leave for school in thirty minutes."

I was on my feet before she could say another word. "Why didn't you wake me up?!" I yelled as I tore up the stairs. Her response was muffled by the sound of my door slamming shut. I grabbed a new set of clothes, showered in my mom's bathroom and quickly styled my hair.

Twenty minutes later, I came downstairs with my bag slung over my shoulder. Britt was seated at the counter, snacking on a piece of toast. "Found your cardigan?" I nodded toward the navy blue cloth slung over the back of her chair.

She nodded and pushed her plate toward me. It held another piece of toast. I took it hurriedly and went to open the fridge. I poured myself a glass of apple juice. As I was putting away the carton, my mother walked into the room.

She looked less tired than last night, but I could still see the dark bags underneath her eyes. I whispered a good morning and tried to make a move past her. She stopped me with an outreached hand and looked me over.

"Aren't you going to put on some makeup? You're sickly pale."

And there it was. "No, I don't have time. And I don't think I really need it. What's the point?"

She looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "The point is that you're too pale. You need some makeup to look less plain. Especially if you're going to wear your hair like that."

I sighed. I was used to this. A constant stream of questions and critiques on how I needed to improve myself. My hair is too frizzy. I looked too pale, too plain. I'd look so much better if I actually wore clothes that were suited for my body type, or if I'd just put on some makeup. For as long as I could remember she'd always had an opinion on how I looked. In the seventh grade, I'd gained several pounds due to puberty and stress eating. She'd told me every day that I needed to lose some weight. I was just going to get fatter. No guy would ever want a fat girlfriend. I needed to shape up.

Another sigh escaped me. "I'm sorry. I'll put some on at school."

Brittany jumped down from her seat, put on her cardigan, grabbed her backpack and headed toward the front door. We waved goodbye to mom and left the house.

It was cold. For a September day. Not so cold your fingers go numb, but cold enough that you can see your breath in front of you. I quickly unlocked the car and we climbed inside. As soon as the car revved into life, Brittany threw the heat into overdrive.

"Can I wait in the car for a few minutes longer than yesterday? The bus didn't come until like five minutes after you left." She asked as I pulled up next to her bus stop.

I nodded and turned my attention to the radio. I spent a moment finding a station that was playing music. Britt and I waited in comfortable silence until I saw her bus pulling around the corner.

"Alright squirt, skedaddle. I've gotta get to school."

Britt got out of the car and, with a final wave goodbye, ran across the street to catch her bus.