Ashley ✓

Thirty-Five | Chaos (And) Math

SOTC: The Man by Lil Xan (feat. $teven Cannon)
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So there I was.

There I was in this suburban dreamland, quite literally experiencing the worst nightmare of the general population without dating a soul in Los Angeles.

I had met the parents.

Except I wasn't dating the person who I met the parents of. Oh, and I was meeting his entire family. Not to mention that he also happened to be the most hated person in his household of old and young attractive people with identical eyes infused with Dove chocolate.

If I had any good feeling to begin with, it had crashed, burned, and re-cremated.

And when I practically felt the agonizing energy between the middle-aged woman— aka Mrs. Fadahunsi— and her son, the living organisms of those feelings buried themselves alive and suffocated for eternity, just like the sound in the kitchen in this establishment.

The worst sight had resulted in my peer to the left, one of Xavier's large downcast, eyes.

Yes. Not even the baby acquired blissful ignorance.

"Psst, Ashley."

I strained my eyes to look down the hall behind the kitchen to find Haneen. Both her hands waved up and then towards herself, a seeming usher me to come to her. My eyes peered back at my situation from hell to find everyone too occupied with the person to the left of me, a person I sensed that I couldn't help even if I tried.

Oddly enough, the fact that if I wanted to wasn't the first thing to cross my mind.

But either way, I quietly did the sneak-hop motion to her as discreetly as humanly possible. Maybe someone saw me. Maybe someone didn't. Either way, I hopped towards her as soon as I registered my heaven-opening gateway to an escape from my position in the kitchen.

"Here uh.. let's go." Haneen's soft voice carried to my ears and then her feet pattered softly in an amble down the hall.

I followed her farther away from the situation until we reached what appeared to be a living room. The walls donned a seemingly fresh coat of alabaster, and in my line of sight, I found thick blue couches against them facing a TV screen bolted to the wall.

"Mom and dad will kill me if I don't finish this shit!"

"They have more important things go to worry about right now, and we need another person for Uno."

"Who gives a fuck about Uno?"

"Us, bro. We give a fuck about Uno the same that you give a fuck about your MILF material math teacher."

"Shut your ass!"

The exclamation put my attention on the four people on the couch, their clear ages ranging from sixteen to twenty or so years in age. One of the boys, who had thick fluffy hair to his ears and glasses, grasped a folder attached to a math paper for dear life and a pencil with an unstable intertwine of his fingers. The two girls on the couch adjacent to him on the right who looked similar to him but with long hair and more defined, feminine features looked at him in scorn. To the left of the boy with the folder was another boy who looked much older than him in a backwards hat, his head against the top of the couch with undeniably fatal boredom.

You can guess who said what.

It was after a few seconds the four people looked up at Haneen and I at the entrance of the living room. Their faces altered within a millisecond to wide eyes and open mouths, like they were awaiting to hear a brand of news they were dying to hear all day.