Love is Lame

Moms are so annoying. I guess dad's are too, but mine left me.

"Olivia!" The devil called from downstairs. "We have to leave soon!" I groaned into the mirror at my reflection. Blonde hair with blueish-purple tips, narrow face, lip ring, dark makeup, short black lacy dress that could be easily mistaken for a prostitutes outfit. Long, pale legs. Black flats.

The perfect outfit for a funeral.

Groaning, I walked downstairs to see my mom sitting at the counter crying. "Mom." I half coughed so she knew I was there. "You ready?" She stood up and wiped the corner of her eyes. She's got to be sure she doesn't smear her makeup for her husbands funeral.

The reason I'm not sad or crying or emotional at all, really,is because my dad and I hated each other. Everyone knew that. He made it clear as did I. We walked out into the warm August air, my mom getting into the passenger seat of my car. This is all too much for me.

I drove to the funeral home in silence, except for my mom complaining about how I can't take the ring out of my face for at least a day. When we got there, there were a few cars who I had assumed were the funeral directors. They did the fake scheme of "sorry for your loss" yada yada bullshit.

My mother and I stood by the closed casket, awaiting people's arrival. I picked at my nails as my mother talked to people I didn't know, but told me I had grown up. I told all my professors that my dad had passed so I could have a few days off of classes. I go to Marist University near New York City, and if you couldn't tell already I hang out with the people who hate everything.

When the service started, the pastor went on about how deeply sad it is to lose someone in a car accident. It's sad to lose anyone; dude. My mother was crying and I put on a poker face for people to think I was sad. A half an hour and many tears later, people began to hug my mom and I. We were given gifts, which was the stupidest fucking thing. Oh, her husband died so I'll give her a new kitchen set. What the fuck?

When we got back home, my mother had a few guests over but I wanted to get as far away from them as possible. I packed up and left for the hour and a half drive to the campus. I hit traffic when I got to the city, so I decided to park and shop around at the way too expensive stores. I grabbed a coffee and walked around, ending up buying nothing and getting out of there.

I finally got back to my dorm and my roommate, Anna, wasn't there. Gladly. She's a stuck up goody two shoes who studies all night. She's probably a virgin, too.

I called my friend Stacy and asked if there were any parties tonight, to which she said yes. I agreed to meet her and a few of our other fiends at a restaurant right off campus at five.

I stayed in my dress and touched up my makeup and hair up before leaving.

At the restaurant, people were already there. Stacy, Isa, Maria, Josh, Megan, Chris, and a new boy. A new boy who was cute. He had brown messy hair, emerald eyes, a smile that stretched across his face when he laughed, a jawline that could cut diamonds, tattoos, tan skin...

When I noticed I was staring, I felt my cheeks redden as I sat down and he chuckled at me. What the fuck? I don't blush. For anyone.

I said hi to everyone and took a sip of the coke that Stacy got me. We made small talk, but I couldn't take my eyes off of this mystery boy as he sat next to Chris and laughed and talked. I need to know who this is. His white V neck came down so you could see some of his chest tattoos, and they were visible through the fabric.

He saw me staring again and I looked away quickly, but when I looked back he was still looking at me.

"I'm sorry, what is your name?" His voice surprised me as it came out with a strong English accent.