New Guy on the Street (Larry)

Chapter Four: Thanks Mom

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

SMACK!

I shoot up as I hear the crash of my alarm clock falling to the floor. My bad. I didn’t mean to hit it that hard. Now all I can do is hope it’s not broken. I peer over the side of my bed and look down to the floor. My alarm clock was fine. Good. My mom won’t get mad at me. Today could be a good day after all.

I throw the comforter off of my body and pull myself out of the bed. Without bothering to pick up the clock first, I make my way downstairs. There was a loud noise coming from the kitchen, which I figured was the TV at first, but then I realized I heard voices that sounded less like TV and more like my mother and some man. It was like seven in the morning. Who the heck comes over at seven in the morning?

“I had a good night too,” I hear a voice say.

“I’m glad you two had fun. Harry is such a nice boy. I’m glad he’s made a friend, even if he is ten years older,” I hear my mom say back to him. Obviously, Mr. Tomlinson was in my kitchen telling my mother of last night when I stayed at his house until after eleven while I waited for my mom to get home. We didn’t do anything but talk and play on his X-Box. I have no clue what was so good about his night.

“Morning, Harry,” my mom says when I walk into the room, not even looking up to acknowledge my presence. How did she even know I was in the room if he hasn’t even looked at me?

“What’s going on?” I ask, observing the two of them sitting down at the kitchen table with cups of what’s more-than-likely tea.

“Your mom and I were just talking,” Mr. Tomlinson shrugs, turning to look at me and then nearly falling out of his chair in surprise. I raise my eyebrow as he looks me up and down with a small smirk on his face.

“What?” I ask him confusedly. Realization suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m only in my boxers. My face heats up as my mom looks over and starts to laugh at me.

“Please unpack your clothes, Harry,” she says with a laugh. “You did bring them right?” My face heats up even more as Mr. Tomlinson starts to laugh at my mother’s joke, which wasn’t even remotely funny.

“I must have lost them in the move,” I respond sarcastically, playing along with my mother for the amusement of our guest. “Let me go look for them.” I turn on my heels and exit the kitchen and go back to my room as quickly as possible. Any other day, I would have been able to walk around my house naked for all I care and it would have been absolutely fine. Now, it seems like everywhere I turn Mr. Tomlinson is there. I may have to start showering with my clothes on soon.

As soon as I’m dressed, I go back downstairs where Mr. Tomlinson and my mother are still talking over their cups of tea, but now there is a plate of toast between the two of them. Their sudden friendship has weirded me out today.

“Well what do you know,” my mom says as soon as she sees me in the kitchen again, “the boy does have clothes.” I give her my best squinty-eyed-evil-look and make my way to the fridge for something edible and not toast.