My Boyfriend Satan

Reading Classics and Meeting Milo

Taking one last glance at my sultry appearance in the mirror, I left, with the business card weighing heavily in my psychedelic backpack. I was going to milo's place at around five that night and we were getting pizza before I made the big call. It seemed like it was gonna be a pretty fun night. Mum and Dad were waiting in the car park for me. I flashed them a patronising grin and flung open the rusty car door. I sat deep in thought (mostly about death) for the whole journey. My parents attempted small talk, but I denied them any chances of that. We passed the comic book store and I spied Rod and Layla making out behind the cash register. My co-workers. It's not a bad job, working at Downtown Comix, though the name annoys the hell out of me. It sounds  as if it's some tacky American store when in actual fact it's a great social hangout for local geeks. I've made some cool friends there and though I don't go crazy over Marvel or DC, I love scouring the shelves for anime, memorabilia and cute little statues. It pays surprisingly well and I actually quite enjoy it and though he doesn't like to admit it, it's Milo's favourite store too.

Once we arrived home, I surfed tumblr, looking for anything to brighten my day. There were some cute cat pics, but that was the only thing remotely interesting. Giving up soon on that idea, I stalked back down the stairs and made cookies. I'm not a half bad baker, you should try my vegan chocolate cupcakes. Whilst waiting for them to bake, I flicked through a magazine, filled with people who might as well be aliens. Our village is possibly the least glamorous place ever, and even the prettiest girl (Veronica, milo's sister) is hardly magazine cover material. Even though I don't look a thing like these people, I don't envy them because they all look so alike- "oh, don't you just wish that you have perfect arched eyebrows- like mine! And also don't you want flawless, unblemished skin- like mine! Or what about a waist skinnier than your fist- because I have that too!" Bloody hell, they can't be real people.

Munching on the cookies, I decided to retire to my room. I took from my shelf an old, battered copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' and read for an hour or so about Eliza Bennet and Mr. Darcy (who btw is amazing!!). One thing I love so much about Jane Austen, or any classic writer really, is the way the words flow together. They're almost like a song. They could send you to sleep, but not because they're boring, as they definitely aren't! Because it's telling you about a world you've practically never been to. And the characters are so obliviously strange, with all their strange little sexist manners. Some people wish wholeheartedly to be a part of that world- my mum, for one. She's depressed. But I would never want to be there, trapped somewhere where they only speak in snooty voices and allow woman to do just about nothing. And the gap between poverty-stricken and the rich is even bigger than it is now! Most people read these books to fantasise of a place far, far away. When I read them, I delight in realising that my life isn't as worthless I think. Lots of people have had it worse. Being a rebellious teenager with about one real friend now isn't as crap as it would have been a couple hundred years ago.

Having just reached the page where Elizabeth's cousin proposes to her, I checked my phone. It's a bloody Samsung. Come on mum and dad! What's up with an iPhone? To be honest, I'm surprised they didn't get me a Nokia. It was half four. I was to be at milo's in half an hour. That left me just enough time to fix my hair, grab my backpack and catch the bus. Milo's house is big. Not like a mansion, but it's still pretty damn big. About twice the size of my semi-detached. Plus, he has the whole attic to himself. I think his sisters made up ghost stories about and then dared him to claim it when they first arrived. Determined, as usual to overcome any doubts about himself,  he did, though I swear he still gets terrified if there's noises in the night. One half of the attic is his room where he sleeps and keeps his tv, there's an en-suite and a kind of study. It's got his desk and laptop and books and whatever else and he writes there. I don't go to the study much. He always diverts me from it when I ask.

I opened the glass porch door and rang the doorbell after wiping my feet. I had to try again because no one answered. Muffled shouts arose from within the brick walls. I was accustomed to that. At last the door was opened by Holly, the perfect prefect. She smiled warmly.

"I guess you're here to see Milo?" She asked knowingly.
"Yep. Are he and your mother in the process of a disagreement?" I asked knowingly.
"Yes. Me and Veronica (pretty one) were just about to get the popcorn out."
"And where may Lucy be during this fine spectacle?"
"Doing her hair or out with her boyfriend, probably."
"Right. Who's she going out with now?"
"Well, I don't know!" I laughed at this. Lucy was always going to parties and checking her appearance. She has more lipsticks than I have followers on social media. That's a lot.
"Ok. Can I come in and watch?"
"Sure!" And she opened the door for me.

Milo is taller than me, but only marginally. We're both quite tall, though I was four and a half feet until I was twelve. He had his spurt early and so we grew to be around the same. My hair used to be dirty blonde, like his, but as you know, I died it. He's skinny as hell and I'm quite curvy, but we look quite alike apart from that. I guess I have softer features, a bigger mouth and eyes. Anyway, my skinny male lookalike was sitting at his kitchen counter, fuming at his mother. Even then, he had a smirk on his face. I tell you, a natural smirk has implanted itself on that boy's face. It's as if he knew he was going to win. Or just wanted to look cool losing.

"You do know you're being-" his mother paused mid-rant as I entered. "Oh hello, Aubrey! Sorry, you'll just have to wait a minute while I give this boy a piece of my mind." Milo was grinning at me with his mothers back turned. She whirled around as if sensing that he was defying her and he looked to the floor, trying not to laugh.

"Being what, mother?" That's another strange thing about him, he only refers to his mum as mother.
"A right idiot who needs to learn to have an open mind!"
"Oh, but I do have an open mind. There's just no persuading me to be a stuffy accountant, that's all."
"But you have so much academic potential!"
"Mother, seriously, shut up. I have a friend in the room."
"Did you just tell me to shut up?"
"Yes, I think I did."
"Do you want me to send your friend home?"
"No, mother," he replied boredly.
"Then you won't ever say that again!"
"But what if there was a hypothetical situation where I had to say 'shut up, mother' or you would die?"
"Oh, shut up with your hypothetical situations!"
He mock gasped. "Oh, but mother! You just told me to shut up!"
His mum groaned. "Hypocrite!" He shouted with glee. "You are a hypocrite and I have just won this argument. Now, Aubrey. Would you mind accompanying me to my room?"
"No. No, I would not," and we both ran up three floors to his room(s).

Thanks again for reading! Leave a comment below if you liked it! Or don't, but it would be appreciated :)