Taking in a Dirty Rockstar

Dirty Rockstar

My life is pretty simple. Wake up early, go to school, come home, sit at home, mom comes home, she goes straight to bed, I then go to bed, wake up the next morning, and repeat.

My friend was now in front of my house, waiting for me to come out so she can take us to school.

I walked outside, looking up at the sky noticing it was a rather grey morning. It wasn't a problem for me, I love grey days.

I got into the passenger seat of her car and she looked at me and groaned loudly.

"We have that English exam today," she whined.

"Fuck," I said under my breath.

"Did you study?" she asked me.

"Of course not," I replied.

"This why I love ya," she chuckled, "if I fail, at least I know you failed too."

I gave her a small smile and she took off.

****
We got to school, sitting in the car, not wanting to get out and face the Hell of High School.

"The first bell is gonna ring in like thirty seconds. We need to go," Anna told me.

"I don't wanna," I frowned.

"Trust me, babe. I don't wanna either," she huffed as she stepped out of the car.

I stepped out as well and we walked into the gates of Hell.

****
The school day finally came to an end. It felt like it would never be over.

"How do you think you did on the exam?" Anna asked me as we started to head to her car.

"Failed it probably," I shrugged.

"Same," she nodded.

We continued walking in silence and finally made it to her car.

"You wanna grab a bite or something?" she asked.

"Can't. My mom's comin' home early today so I need to be there," I answered.

She nodded and we started to drive again.

****
I made it home, opening the front door, seeing my mom hadn't come home yet. She'll be here any minute then.

I went upstairs to my room and dropped my heavy backpack on the floor, plopping down on my bed, closing my tired eyes.

****
"Jenna, sweetie," my mom's soft voice said.

I slowly woke up and looked at my mom as she was giving me a weird look.

"What's wrong?" I immediatley asked.

"Oh, nothing," she said, biting the inside of her cheek.

"What happened?"

"Well, I brought home a guest today..." she said nervously.

"What? You did? Who?" I questioned all at once.

"I don't want you getting too upset..."

"Mom, who could it possibly be?"

She looked even more nervous as she motioned me to follow her out of my room.

I stood up from my bed and quickly peeked at myself in the mirror, and wiped away my smeared black makeup under my eyes from my nap.

I followed her down the stairs to the kitchen and there I saw some dirty-looking rocker dude sitting at the counter, drinking straight vodka from the bottle.

"Who the hell is this?" I instantly asked my mom, staring at him with disgust.

"Hello to you too," he snapped back at me.

"Jen, this is Duff," she said, walking to him.

"What the hell is this now? Take in a Dirty Rockstar Foundation?"

"Jen! Be nice!" my mom yelled at me.

"Yeah, Jen, be nice," he smirked at me, putting a cigarette in his mouth slowly.

"He's here because... well, he lost his band on the road."

"Lost his band on the road? Is it even possible to be that stupid?" I scoffed.

"Hey, don't be a bitch about it. You don't even know what happened," he drunkly said, a fake smile forming onto his lips.

"What kind of band are you even in? Is it a group of homeless looking drunks that group together and call themselves a 'band'?" I barked.

"No. I'm in a hard rock band," he said back.

"Are you?" I crossed my arms, raising my eyebrows.

"Yes, I am, Sex Pistol," he said, glancing down at my Sex Pistols shirt, referring to me as a Sex Pistol.

I also glanced down at my shirt and rolled my eyes as I looked back up at him.

"And which instrument do you play?" I asked.

"Well, in the band, I play bass. I also can play guitar and drums though. And I also don't have a bad voice," he winked.

"And they threw you on bass because you just weren't good enough at the other instruments?" I sneered.

"Why don't we talk more about this over dinner?" he smirked, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"I wouldn't if you paid me a thousand dollars," I barked back.

"I don't got a thousand dollars with me but I sure do got a ton of vodka," he smirked.

"She's too young to drink!" my mom jumped in.

"What are you? An eighth grader?" he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Good one!" I sarcastically exclaimed.

"She's in high school," my mom told him.

"A senior in high school," I corrected.

"So what are you? Eighteen? Nineteen?" he asked.

"Going on eighteen," I answered.

"You're a young one," he chuckled, pressing the vodka bottle to his lips.

"I'm turning eighteen in a week and a half, for your information," I rolled my eyes.

He chuckled again and chugged down some more vodka.

"And how old are you, huh?" I asked him.

"Twenty-one," he replied.

"Well, I'll let you guys get friendly. I'll be in my room if you need me," my mom said, leaving us alone.

"Yeah, Jen, let's get friendly," he smirked at me.

"Listen here, Duff, or whatever your weird name is, if you leave me alone, I will leave you alone. As simple as that," I told him.

"Well, that's gonna be a little hard," he said with a stupid smile plastered on his face.

"And why is that?"

"Because we're sharing a room, sweetheart."

"Oh, hell no. No, no, no," I shook my head, "not fucking happening."

"Yes it is, honey."

"Stop calling me those little fuckin' pet names. And no, no it's not."

"Well, I gotta sleep somewhere."

"Yeah, on the fucking couch, in the fucking living room."

"I got a bad back, sweetie."

"I hear sleeping on hard surfaces really helps that. You got the whole living room to figure that whole situation out."

"I need a bed."

"No way in hell you're getting my bed."

"Well, sweetie, talk to your mom 'bout it. Me and her already came to an agreement."

I gave him a long glare and stomped off to my mom's bedroom to talk to her about Duff sleeping in my bed.