Forgetting the World [BoyxBoy]

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

[Tom]

I left Joey’s house around one. We didn’t really do anything but watch T.V. and talk about how much trouble I would be in. He was really grateful that I helped him though, so I really didn’t mind.

Right now I was sitting on the couch in my living room, waiting for my mom to get back from whatever errand she was on so she could rip me a new ass. And the she’d tell my dad and I’d be in even more trouble.

See, my mom, Mary, was a stay at home mom. I mirrored her brown hair and green eyes completely, but everything else like my height came from my dad, Perry. He was a construction worker.

“You are so busted!” My idiotic sister, Zoey, yelled as she opened the door.

I rolled my eyes. “Shut it, tramp.”

Zoey was the all American girl with blonde hair and blue eyes that she got from my father. She had big boobs too, and sometimes I wonder if they were fake. She was currently going to college, and had a new boyfriend every other day. I kinda feel bad for her, ‘cause they all screw her and leave her. But it’s times like these that I really could care less.

“I’m telling dad you called me a tramp!” She said in that high, squeaky voice of hers.

“Well, if you closed your legs I wouldn’t call you a tramp.”

“Shut the fuck up Tomas!” She said. “You’re hurting my feelings!”

“Go blow your latest boyfriend and get over it.” I muttered. She huffed and ran upstairs.

“At least I can get someone to date me! You’ve never had a girlfriend!”

“That’s a lie!”

“Is not!”

“Shut up, you stupid hooker!”

“Tomas Matthew Quinn!” My mother shouted, slamming the door shut.

“Zoey’s a hooker!” Mason said. “Mama, what’s a hooker?”

I tried not to laugh. Mason is my three year old brother, who wants to be just like me. He looks so much like me that he could probably pass as my kid, not that I’d be interested in having a kid at seventeen.

“Zoey is not a hooker, Mason.” She sighed. “Go play. I need to talk to your brother alone.”

He laughed and ran off, while my mom sighed and hung up her newly dry cleaned clothes in the closet. She wasn’t even going to her room? Oh god I’m screwed. She sighed angrily and walked into the living room, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at me.

“Hi mom.” I said, smiling at her.

“Do you think it was funny to beat up those boys?” She demanded.

“Hey, Jack and his friends had it coming.” I defended.

“Do you even know those other two boy’s names?”

“No…”

“Tomas!”

“Hey, they hit me first!”

“And that boy named Jack?”

“I hit him first, but-”

“Tomas!”

“Mom he was going to beat up Joey!” I yelled.

“Who’s Joey?” She asked.

“He’s this boy I met yesterday.” I explained, sighing. “Jack and his friends we’re messing with him yesterday. They shoved him up against lockers, called him names.”