Cupids Son is a Fuckboy

Cupid in Cape Cod

"Bush... bush... bush... road... oh look, more bush."

"Cut it out, Ian."

I could feel my body weight sink into the seat of the car, slowly loosing sight of the endless road.

"I can't believe we're moving to some shitty loner island..."

"It's not like you were leaving anyone behind."

"You don't know that."

"Name one, oh wait. You had the whole population back at home"

I dropped my head in dismay, letting out a slight laugh from my dads remark, what could I say? He was right.

"Ok, you got me there. But at least there was a population."

"Don't be so dramatic, there'll be girls there."

"...hot girls?"

His reply was a sigh, how typical of him...

Where are my manners, Hi. I'm Ian Chatswood, soon to be 18, how stereotypical right? Guess my parents aren't that creative. You might've heard of my name before, Cupid Chatswood? Haven't heard of him? Oh. Well, that's my dad. No, his name isn't Cupid. It's cute how stupid you are. Sorry, force of habit. Ahem, my dads an advice column writer, particularly in the relationship section, can't say i've ever read his work but from what I know he's pretty popular. He started writing around 14 years ago, yeah. Mom left us 14 years ago, another stereotype.
Well, the old man earned himself a break and despite where we were staying before being perfectly fine. He wanted to settle down, which has forced me to 'settle down' into my last year of high school on loner island with him.
*
*
"Wake up, we're here."

"Huh, What?-"

I'd fallen asleep somewhere between an actual town and bush. I let out an isolated stretch from the car and stepped out.

"Well... you did a good job on choosing a house pops."

The grey two story house was over exposed with windows, accompanied with similar structured houses stretched across the neighboring land. I watched as the old man played with his keys.

"Theres only two on there dad, what's the problem?"

He turned around, with prickles accompanying his sheepish smile.

"I'm just nervous, your mother would usually be the one opening the new house,"

"What's with the emotional crap, just open it."

I said laughing over my words and taking the keys from him in attempt to avoid the man crying on our front porch. It wasn't the ideal first impression a neighbor would wish for.

The sound of a click registered, I sent a smile back to the old man.

"We're in."

I'll admit to my embarrassment that I did, infact, run up to the bedrooms to claim mine as if I were competing against my nonexistent siblings.
Although I had 'bags' the biggest room, Dad wouldn't take it. Dammit.

We spent the rest of what seemed like a never ending afternoon, unloading and unpacking ours bags and boxes.

"You're lucky you didn't end up having a sister, we'd end up having tens times as much boxes."

I couldn't help but snicker at the sexist remark, the old man really was old school.
*
*
"Man, what am I gonna do without you here?"

"Have a chance at getting the girls?"

"Oh, you better get outta here fast then!"

"Hey!"

"Hahaha, I'm joking... kinda."