The Band Next Door (COMPLETED) [UNDER EDITING]

6; Snookie Hookie

Liam Hemsworth😍😍 as Brody Jones
Amanda's POV

Saturdays. Possibly the best days of the year. An even better one if you spend the day recovering from your abusive dad. Note the sarcasm. It sucks.

I laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling for two hours. Tom hadn't bothered me in forty eight hours- a new record. Actually he hadn't been in the house for the past two days. When he gets here though, all hell will break loose.

We'll cross that bridge when we get there.

I finally got the strength to roll out of bed just as the clock ticked to noon. The chimes didn't work anymore on the clock- they were ripped out by my father a few years after mom died. I walked to the kitchen and scanned through the fridge, looking for something to eat.

The first in days, I realized. The first thing I've really eaten in days is...

Half an orange.

Yeah. That seemed about right. Half of anything and I'm done. He wouldn't notice an orange missing. We've got about a dozen or so left. I raced back to my room with the orange in hand and quickly shut the door, adrenaline rushing through me even though I just got up.

As stupid as it sounded, I felt like a rebel. A badass. A lawbreaker. All because of an orange. It's the simple things in life, right?

I dug my nonexistent nails into the orange skin and slowly began peeling it. Savoring each juicy wedge, I pressed the home button on my phone. Three messages popped up.

Dustin's a sexy beast

Hey

Claire

Call me!! I need the Amandavice.

1(586) 438-7214

Stay away from Dustin bitch. He's mine

I rolled my eyes at the last text and deleted it. It was probably just some fake ass blonde. I looked over the other two again.

Huh. I don't even remember changing Dustins contact name, though I did unblock him last week. I mean, really?? 'Dustins a sexy beast'? That's so cliche. Then again, my life is kind of cliche. Terrible father, cliches, fake blonde bimbos, hot guys like Dustin, one best frie- wait what?

Hot guys like Dustin? Did I really just think that? Dear God, what is wrong with me?

I shook my head and called Claire. The phone rang twice before she picked it up.

"This is Snookie Hookie, ready to give you the time of your life. What's the name and how may the Hookster be of service?" She replied in a high pitched voice.

I laughed at her response and smiled. She knew how to put a smile on my face  without realizing it. I stifled my laughs and played along.

"Well," I tried a deep voice but failing miserably. "I've got an issue downstairs and it is in need of a fake-ass stick with some experience. Would you know anybody who fits the description?" I wheezed out.

"Hmm," she purred. "Well, I have a slot available at noon of you can wait that long. We could fit it up on no time!"

I laughed again and dropped the phone. "Oh my gosh. You should be a freaking hooker! You would be like, the hookers receptionist. That's it. We are creating a hooker store called 'snookies hookies' and that's final."

She laughed along with me. "We could. Oh god, what was with your voice? It was like, so... I don't even know! It was so wrong!" She could barely breathe.