Perspective of Bad Company

Chapter 3

My house is only a few blocks away from the school so I just walked home. At the time it was fall so there were leaves everywhere. Not too hot outside and not too cold. Just right. I was walking across a gravel parking lot when I started to zone out. The heat felt really good today. Am I the only one who noticed it? The town was so quite that you would think it was deserted. So quite I could hear my feet as it met the rocks. Am I the only one who watches my feet as it makes sounds against the gravel? Then I looked at my shadow as it walked beside me. It seemed to be the only friend I have at the moment. Am I the only one who enjoys its company?

I got home and found the key to the house under a flower pot. My mom doesn’t get home till five and it’s only four. I get inside and go to my room. This house is bigger than Aunt Tracy’s was. My room was even bigger in this house. In fact everything in this house is bigger than Aunt Tracy’s house. I tried not to think about Aunt Tracy or anything that involved her.

It doesn’t work out very well. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not in a good way either. Some things she did just makes me wonder how she could ever love me. When I was younger she tried to get me to call her mom, but I wouldn’t. I already had a mom and she wasn’t it. She wasn’t even motherly towards me, so why would I?

The way Aunt Tracy and I lived seemed the norm when I was little. I started going to friends houses and then I realized that my home life was different from others. They sat a table to eat dinner. At Aunt Tracy’s house she made small dinners and we ate in the living room and watched TV. I wanted that sense of home like I felt at my friend’s house. Their parents seemed nice all the time. Aunt Tracy would be on edge all the time. The times she was nice was when we were in public. We never had anyone over at the house. The house was always a mess. Clothes everywhere. Clutter. I couldn’t stand it. I cleaned all the time, but somehow it always got dirty.

Aunt Tracy was sad or mad all the time at the house. She even threatened to kick me out at one point. I was ten when she said that. She got mad because I was outside playing instead of cleaning the house that never got clean anyways. Apparently I was young and could do more, when she just sat around watching me.

Ever since I moved in with my mom I don’t take one thing for granted. All I need is a mom. Now that I think of it, I don’t think I will need a dad. My mom has been married before. That’s how my little brother came along. But they divorced years ago. He’s a nice guy and he has remarried, but he’s never really been a dad to me. Well, I’m not his kid so why should he?

Not that I care really. People say it so sad that I don’t have a dad or father figure. Well I don’t think it’s too sad because I don’t know how it is to have a dad. So I’m not really missing out. I thought having a dad meant that he was the one who brought the guns out on a boy who came over to take you out on a date. I could be wrong, but I mean if u listen to that country song that talks about cleaning a gun because his daughter is on a date, it’s pretty clear. You don’t see moms pulling out guns on a boy that comes over to a girl’s house. Although that would be a sight to see. Actually I could see my mom doing that.

Speaking of mom, she got home about 15 minutes late. She had to go to the store and get food. She made steaks and some weird looking fruit mix. I didn’t ask I just ate it. I don’t think she would try to poison the daughter she just got back. I was kind of dreading this part of the day. Even more than the first day of school.

She was going to ask how my first day was and I would have to explain every freaking detail of how my Oral Communications teacher is a nut job and how this High School has no variety of different clicks. This makes no sense to me. Although my algebra teacher seemed pretty cool. He was a coach at one point, but I guess he downgraded to 9th grade algebra. I feel bad for him. Going from practically almost killing students with physical activity to pointing a stick to a board talking about equations. I would be very disappointed.

The dreaded question- “How was your day Allie?”

Short answer- “Boring.”

Another question- “Did you make any new friends?”

Another short answer-“No”

Another….question-“Really? Why not? Did you talk to anybody?”

A slightly longer answer-“I don’t know. And no I didn’t talk to anyone.”

Really mom? - “Why not?”

I swear she’s trying to kill me-“You were right. Everyone in the school is a snob.”

She laughs. I guess it was funny?-“Aren’t they? Did you get any good teachers?”

Good teachers?-“Well I did get a very weird Oral Communications teacher. I think she was a bimbo in high school.” (Did I just say bimbo to my mom?)

She laughs again.-“Oh really? You do know that once a bimbo, always a bimbo.” (Did my mom just call my Oral Communications teacher a bimbo?) 

I’m starting to enjoy this conversation-“I guess so, do you know her? Mrs. Francis?”

Mom finally focuses back to her food-“No, but I guess I’m going to go meet her at the next parent-teacher meeting. Then I can decide if your accusations are correct.” (I swear she is enjoying calling my Oral Communications teacher a bimbo more than me.)

Me trying not to be so weirded out by this-“Mhmm”