Mr.Bad Boy

When will it stop?

"I'm home mom," I yelled, pulling my keys out of the door. I walked down the hallway into the kitchen.

I put my bag on the counter by the fridge and walked into the living room. My mom was passed out on the couch with beer cans laying around her. I walked over to her and checked for breathing. Once I located a pulse and breathing, I covered her with a blanket. I picked up the beer cans and put them in the sink. They would eventually go to recycling.

My phone went off inside of my bag.

It was Jade:

How's the mom?

I sent a quick one back:

Passed out on the couch. Going grocery shopping. Ttyl.

I basically own this house. My mom has been a drunk ever since my dad died. It would be four years next week. I do the grocery shopping and the cleaning and paying the bills. Although my grandma visits when it's time to pay the taxes, I can't screw those up.

We were obviously low on the essentials. I checked the bathroom for any hygiene products, only toilet paper was needed.

I grabbed my keys and wallet and got back into my car. I would have to go to work later but the store closed at 6. I turned up the radio before pulling out of my driveway. About halfway to the store, my car beeped signaling an oil change was needed. I would have to get up early tomorrow to change that. And I also needed to buy oil tonight.

A few songs later, I pulled into the parking lot. I grabbed my wallet and keys and hopped out. First thing was the oil so I wouldn't forget it. When I turned into that aisle, I stopped in my tracks. The same boy I ran into yesterday was buying oil. I started to turn around, but I wasn't fast enough.

"I thought we weren't bothering each other," he called out. I could the smile behind his words.

I slowly turned around and shrugged me shoulders. "How was I suppose to know you would be here?"

"Telepathy," he suggested.

I shook my head in denial and looked for the oil I needed.

"What are you doing in the oil aisle?" He questioned me.

"Sorry, didn't realize oil was just for men. I'll come back when your gone. Wouldn't want to interrupt your shopping trip," I snapped, walking away.

"I wasn't being sexist," he yelled.

"Yeah, you kind of were," I argued, turning around.

"I just wanted to know what you were doing here," he countered.

"Maybe, oh I don't know, buying oil," I stated obviously.

"Okay, obviously. But why?" He continued.

"Because my car needs an oil change," I said, slowly.

"How do you know what to buy?" He questioned.

"I've been changing my oil for four years now. But that's none of your business," I muttered, grabbing the oil off the shelf.

"You keep surprising me," he said under his breath.

"Why? Because I talk? Because I can change the oil on my car?" I demanded.

"I don't know one girl who even knows what that means," he explained.

For some reason I realized that I didn't know his name.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Ouch. Wounded ego there sweetheart," he faked, grabbing his heart.