Framed

Nine - Chores and Rivalries

Over the fourteen long years of my life, I had gradually come to the conclusion that alarm clocks were the most miserable pieces of machinery out there. Not even security cameras or police cars were nearly as bad as the devil’s ringtone.

“Alexis, it’s Saturday,” I muttered, putting a pillow over my face and squinting through the gap.

“You bet it is,” Alexis said with a sarcastic smile as she stood beside my bed and reached towards her alarm clock to shut it up.

I groaned and, with a lot of effort, sat up. “Time’s it?” I asked, blinking at the blurry red numbers on the alarm clock. 11:34 am. “S’not lunch time yet,” I mumbled, collapsing back into the welcoming comfort of my bed.

“Can you do me a favor and not waste my time?” Alexis asked. “I’d prefer not missing breakfast and lunch, so I’m gonna go grab the leftovers then we can go to the bathroom. Later.”

I sat up immediately. I wouldn’t live if I had to wait until 6 to eat. I’d probably disintegrate in my sleep. “Okay, I’m coming,” I whined, sliding off my bed unwillingly. I was still completely dressed in what I had been wearing the previous night; a pair of black skinny jeans and an indigo school sweater. Even my shoes were still on; I had knocked out unexpectedly.

The sad excuse for breakfast was a flimsy breakfast burrito consisting of a totally budget amount of scrambled eggs, a slice of cold ham, and some weird kind of half-melted artificial white cheese. Alexis ate it like a starving hyena but I took only a couple bites before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to replace breakfast with some Stride gum.

A relatively young woman I recognized as the housemistress walked into the dining room, this time holding a cheese grater. “Wow,” she said with very well hidden sarcasm, “you two are up early.” Alexis and I were the only people in the room aside from a hispanic girl on her cellphone, so I figured she was talking to us. She continued, “If I remember correctly, you’ve got a job to do.” She protruded two toothbrushes from her back pocket and handed one to each of us, then gave Alexis a bucket of soapy water. 

Oh. So that was what Alexis meant when she said we could go to the bathroom after breakfast. I had completely forgotten about our weekend cleaning duty. To think I had been that excited about some time off just to be heartlessly handed a toothbrush and sent off to the facilities.

“Follow me,” the woman directed. Alexis and I stood up and followed her out of the dining room. “New kid, I’m Ms. Morin, but if you prefer it, ma’am works too.”

“I’d prefer to get back to bed,” I responded tiredly.

“Watch it,” Ms. Morin said, turning to face me as she swayed from side to side. “They pay me to fix smart-asses like yourself, if you get my drift. So here’s the deal; if you don’t respect me I don’t respect you. Understand?” I nodded and she cupped her hand behind her ear.

“Yeah. Ma’am.”

“Excellent. What’s your name again?” She had gotten closer, and I have to admit I was far beyond intimidated at this point.

“Lynne,” I answered. “I mean Doherty. Uh– Lynne Doherty. I mean–”

“I get it,” she interrupted. I blinked and Alexis elbowed me painfully in the ribs, giving me the you’re-an-idiot look I seemed to get all too often those days.

We travelled about ten yards to the girls’ house bathroom. It was surprisingly empty, probably due to the fact that everyone was getting ready for lunch.

“Alright, how about we start with the floor?” Ms. Morin suggested, or ordered. “It should be able to qualify for the after pictures in a cleaner commercial when I get back in, got it? Impress me.” She disappeared through the door and Alexis and I stood tensely in our places for a moment.