The Girls from Downstairs

three: his true side

Yes, I know it took me forever to upload, and I'm sorry!  I promise the next upload will be within a week's time! <3 XDee

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Tom didn’t do anything to me, thankfully.  He was simply hungry, which is why he decided to holler down the road for me to hurry home.  I made a simple pot of spaghetti, but that wasn’t good enough.  He had to have meatballs with it and garlic bread and none of the frozen kind - all from scratch.  Lucky for me, I had my father’s ability to cook well.

I hurried to my basement sanctuary as soon as I deemed he was satisfied.  My homework usually waited until late at night, but on days like today I got to finish it without bags under my eyes.  My chores would have to wait until Tom went out to the bar with his friends in about an hour or so.

I turned on my old crappy radio by my bed as I worked.  It came out scratchy, but it was my dad’s old piece of junk and I wouldn’t give it up for the world.  My step-mom was more than happy to oblige, since she missed my dad sometimes, too.  She would never admit it to Tom, of course, but I can tell.  It’s obvious in her eyes.

When my homework was finished and no footsteps came from upstairs, I snuck up to finish my cleaning.  The boys wouldn’t be home for a while, allowing me plenty of time to finish my chores and make dinner without interruption.  Alone time was something I rarely got, and I relished in the opportunity.

I turned on the upstairs radio as I cleaned, dancing to my favorite songs.  My favorite station played everything from VersaEmerge to Panic! At the Disco to Green Day to Rihanna to Lady Gaga.  Before I knew it the sun had set, my chores were done, and dinner was minutes away from being finished.  I had decided on homemade tortillas with refried beans and chili’s and peppers with flan for dessert.  Whenever I cooked there was always a theme to it.  And tonight I was feeling Hispanic. 

I looked outside.  It was kinda strange that the guys hadn’t arrived home yet, but I wasn’t going to complain.  I started to plate the food when a noise sounded outside.  I had heard it a few times, but ignored it before.  Now it was just getting annoying.

“What was that?” I opened the curtain; nothing was there.  “Oh well.”

One of my favorite songs came on and I danced to it, singing from the top of my lungs, as I continued making dinner.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I jumped and immediately shut off the radio.  “S-sorry Tom.  I got kinda carried away.”

“Obviously.”  He took a few steps forward and stared into the pots and pans, revulsion written on his face.  “Just like you got carried away at school today?” he asked.

I paled.  “What do you mean?”

“Your principal called.  You were put into detention?”

“Well-“

“Were you or were you not?”

“Yes,” I admitted in a small voice.

“Care to explain why?”

“The principal subbed for my English class.  He always makes us watch a play and I put my head down.  I didn’t mean to fall asleep!”

“Just as I’m sure you also didn’t mean to miss your third period class and have the gall to tell off your teacher for doing her job?” he snapped.

“She was marking me absent even though I was there and had an excusal note from the Principal himself!  I simply walked out of class, since it was written on paper that I wasn’t there even if I had stayed!” I answered.