F*ck Off Wolfboy! {on hold}

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Quincy's POV

“Quiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!” Dove squashed her button nose against mine, pried open my eyelids, and bellowed into my ear, effectively waking me up. “Mommies said you got to get up neow foor school if you falue you life.”

Oh, boo hoo. It was the same lame threat every morning: get your butt up or you’re grounded, wake up now unless you want to go to Savannah’s boarding school, get up or no friends over for a year, get up or Dove get’s your cell phone (even though she’s four and what the heck is she gonna do with it?). I squelched my eyes shut again, furrowing under the warm purple covers that Dove had attempted to drag off me.

“Quiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnncccccccccccyyyyyyyy, they sounded real mad.” she whined, tugging at the covers.

“Go awaaaaaay, Dovey Wovey.” I complained, swatting at her head of platinum curls. But I managed to sit up, make a grab for the coffee Aunt Cleo and Lila had Dove carry up, and burry my frozen feet into vampire bunny slippers.

Moaning like Lila’s fourth husband, George, did whenever Lila snapped at him to get off the couch, I crawled out of bed, yanking my hair out of a messy bun as I went off in search of reasonably clean clothes.

“Quincy?”

I tugged on a pair of skinny jeans. “Yeeeeeeeeeeeesssss, Princess Dovey?”

“How com you don‘ have a Mommy an a Daddy?”

I froze up for a second before continuing to button my jeans.

“’Cause I like the Mommies more.” I grabbed a graphic tee shirt.

“But what about your mommy and daddy, Quincy?”

Sliding on a doodled-on pair of Converse, I replied, “My mommy and daddy don‘t like me very much, Dove-Dove.”

After a few moments of silence in which I caked on eyeliner, ran a comb through my hair, which looked like a herd of boy scouts went nuts with blond colored rope up there, and pulled on my lucky sparkling wolf necklace, Dove said something. “Okie-dokie.”

I grabbed her and tickled her pudgy 4 year old belly. “Come on, sissie, it’s breakfast time and you know how the Mommies get when we’re late.”

She insisted on hauling my 200lbs book bag (okay, slight exaggeration) down the stairs, tripping all the way in her Scooby Doo slippers and princess night gown and asking if she was being a “super duper big help”. To that I replied, in a totally un-sarcastic way, “of course you are, dahling”.

Even before we reached the kitchen, the bizarre noise of a Cleo McMann-Lila Thompson-Dove Sinclair-Quincy Thompson-Beast-El Presedente-Fitzgerald household morning reached us. My tone deaf aunt sounded like a dying cat as she screeched what vaguely resembled the song from “The Lion King” about a lion sleeping in the mighty jungle and Lila was already offering up unneeded love advice to someone or another.

None of us really understood who Lila blabbed to, cause we sure as Hell weren’t listening. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my almost-aunt, but she took every opportunity she could to remind us she had been married 5 times and knew “everything there was to know about the ways of men”. I mean, I’m seventeen, Dove’s four, and Aunt Cleo has sworn off men every since I came to live with her. We don’t exactly need the romance talks.

Dropping my book bag on the living room’s “well-loved”, as Aunt Cleo put it, red sofa, Dove rushed into the kitchen, squealing, “Mommies!”

Lila was Dove’s real mom, but her dad, Lila’s fifth husband Peter, disowned her. Aunt Cleo didn’t want her goddaughter to grow up without two parents though, and so decided to take on the role of surrogate father. Whenever Dove was around, Aunt Cleo and Lila were referred to as “the Mommies”.