The Swear Jar // luke hemmings

1//"oh, shit"

The windshield wipers seem to be working overtime in front of me, mimicking the sound of my heart beat. With each puddle our car passes through, waves splash up on each side, looking like clouds of smoke. The rain spilling out in front of my mom and me is as if it it's coming out of a shower head yet this thought proves unrealistic as there is water pouring down on all sides of us. 

"Oh, shit." My mom mutters as we drive through a puddle and she loses some control of the car.

"Swear jar." I mutter, unfazed by the downpour around us. All I can focus on is how pissed I am at Calum for getting the car today to go to band practice. He could've asked one of the guys to give him a ride until his car was out of the shop and yet here I am while Cal is probably driving my car. Hopefully he's avoiding rear ending people unlike how he normally drives. 

"I'm trying to focus on the road, Victoria." My mother scolds me, never taking her eyes off the water streaked windshield and the pitch black path ahead of us.

"Okay, that's no excuse for swearing though." I say still feeling bitter about the whole situation with my brother. I unlock my phone as my mom sighs, clearly stressed about the raging storm in front of us.

"Mom, chill. We're pulling in our driveway. You can sit back in your seat now." I say as my mom still sits on the edge, making the seat look pointless as her backside is practically on the edge of it.

"That was a bad storm." My mom mutters as she pulls the car into the garage.

"Yea, I guess. Don't forget, you owe the swear jar a dollar." I tell my mom with a smirk as I open the door from the garage into our house.

"Victoria ease up, okay? I was stressed. Besides, I don't have any ones on me." I prepare to reply with a snarky comment but drop my backpack in the living room when I see Calum and his friends sitting on the couch.

"What the literal fuck?" I angrily spit, not caring that my mom is standing only a few inches away from me. 

"Vicoria! That's six dollars!" My mom says with an insulted tone.

"The f word is 5, mom."

"Well you can pay my dollar since you swore in front of me." I roll my eyes and walk towards the couch Calum is sitting on.

"You're paying that for me." I say to Calum who is sitting with his legs sprawled over the coffee table near the couch.

"What the heck? No." Calum says with a 'what the fuck' look. Which, if you ask me, is just as bad as actually saying fuck because his face twisted up like that makes me wanna punch him.

"Um, yea you are. I waited after school for four hours until mom could pick me up because you insisted on taking my car to band practice," I gesture finger quotes after saying 'band practice', "and you ended up here, clearly not practicing." Calum shoots me another look as my mom walks upstairs.