My American Idiot ~ Septiplier

3

Mark couldn't believe how rude this 'Sean' really was.

Literally, all he'd done was say 'Hi' and the guy had brushed him off in the bluntest fashion imaginable. It didn't take a genius to work out that the guy wasn't worth risking his family's disapproval over.

Wade had been pretty surprised he'd talked to Jack at all. Sitting beside the weird looking Irishman and leaving his best friend to sit by himself hadn't been fair on his part, but he'd been so caught up in his own head he'd hardly noticed. Luckily Wade had quickly forgiven him when he'd agreed to pay for their pizza tomorrow.

After school, Mark was lounging in his bedroom, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

"Mark! Dinner's ready!" his mom yelled, the sound of her voice a little muffled through the door. The delicious smell of his dad's specialty, thick American burgers with all the toppings, was already wafting into his bedroom. Mark's stomach groaned like a dying whale.

Mark jumped off his bed, bare feet slapping against the floorboards as he ran down the stairs at top speed. He only came to a halt when he reached the living room where his sister was laid up reading a book in her favorite chair, feet kicked up on a poof and back slumped down into the sofa.

"You not coming?" he asked, a little out of breath to which she raised a hand pointing to the garden without even bothering to look up.

He rolled his eyes. She was wearing sunglasses indoors. "Thanks, good talk."

He walked out of the open, airy interior of his house and into the bright sunlight, the heat beating down on him as he emerged from the range of their A/C.

Mark's father, Allan, was a pretty laid back guy. He enjoyed living by the phrase 'Y.O.L.O' and loved how the phrase made Mark wince every time he said it as though it was an unholy curse. He was currently kicked back on a deckchair in their reasonably sized garden, a plate of freshly made burgers sitting on the white, circular table beside him.

"Hey," Mark murmured to his Dad as he walked towards him, doing his best not to cringe at his father's outfit.

Allan wore a painfully bright Hawaiian shirt, the fluorescent yellow and orange clashing with his neon knee-length shorts in a car crash of color and bad fashion choices. He had a pair of sunglasses on his head, replaced by a normal pair of reading glasses which he used to read the daily newspaper. He glanced up as his son walked up the grass and fell into the chair beside him.

"Hey, how was school?" Allan asked casually as Mark snatched up a burger and took a large bite. He raised an eyebrow as he watched his son groan at the taste and relax back into his chair. "By the way, enjoy that while you can. Carrie's got it in her head that she's gonna go vegetarian or vegan or whatever and I'm afraid we've all got to support her. Mom's orders. No meat from now on."

Mark almost choked on his food. "What the fuck do you mean no meat?!" he asked, after struggling to swallow his mouthful for a good few seconds.

Suddenly Mark felt something slap him sharply in the back of the head, making him yelp in surprise. His hand jumped straight to the injured spot on his head, rubbing it gently. He looked up to see his Mom, Ellen, standing behind him, a rolled up magazine in her hand. Her lips were pursed in disapproval but the dark look was undermined by the sunshine yellow sunhat she had on her head to block the blaring sun. "Watch your language!"

"But-" He began to protest but as soon as he saw his mother's searing glare he thought better of it and shut his mouth. "Yeah, nevermind."

At that she gave him a smile, full of pride, and began to settle herself into her own chair, her yellow sundress shifting softly in the breeze. "Good boy."