1-800-why-am-I-like-this

May 28th, 1981

Patrick poured himself a cup of coffee, sitting down at the small, beaten-down table in his kitchen and pulling open one of his blocky, oversized textbooks. It was a particularly cool morning for it being May, with ominously grey clouds hanging over Portland. A part of Patrick was glad the rain wasn't left behind in April.

His apartment was small and cheap and rather messy, but it was a nice enough place for a broke college student. At least he could pay for it on his own, even though he only worked a few shifts every once and awhile at the record shop down the street. The man who owned the shop was nice, and the place was financially stable enough to overpay even its underworking employees, what with it being the only shop of its kind for thirty minutes in all directions.

The apartment was in an uncomfortable silence, until there was a knocking at the door. It was heavy and persistent, even though Patrick tried to bury his head deep down in his textbook and ignore it. Is was probably just one of his friends trying to convince him to take a break.

He finally got up to answer it after the person didn't leave for a whole forty-five seconds. "If this is you, Jinan!" he yelled before opening the door.

It was not Jinan. Part of him was glad. The other part was confused.

It was Mary Jane. As in, his sixteen-year-old sister, Mary Jane, who really, really should not have been there, especially at nine in the morning on a Thursday. "Hi, Pat," she uttered timidly.

"Why are you here, Mary Jane?" Patrick asked, crossing his arms. "You're supposed to be in school."

"So are you," she retorted, glaring up at him.

"No, I'm not. I don't take classes on Thursdays. But you're a high school student. You always have classes on Thursdays."

"Shut up," Mary Jane replied. "Look, I don't care about school right now. Just: Can I stay here?"

"Why?"

Mary Jane shrugged. "Mom and Dad just, like, kicked me out."

"What?" Patrick exclaimed. "Why? How did this even happen?"

"Pat, stop wiggin' out," she said. "It's, like, whatever."

"It's not 'whatever'! It's not like people just get kicked out of the house everyday!"

"Ugh! Stop being so frustrating! Just tell me if I can stay or not!"

Patrick sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Fine, yes, you can stay. But you need to be quiet and you still need to go to school."

"But school is like, forever away!"

"Mary Jane, you have a car for a reason. You're going to school. You're only sixteen, so it's not like you can stop, anyway. It's the law."

"Fine, Pat. I'll drive to school. Whatever you say."

"And you'll get good grades and do all your homework."

She rolled her eyes, sighing. "I'll try my very, very best. I swear."

Patrick nodded. "Good."

"Can I come in yet?" Mary Jane asked.

Patrick stepped away from the door. "Yes, come in. But I do expect you to give me at least some sort of hint to why Mom and Dad kicked you out in the first place."

Mary Jane stepped in slowly, taking in the place. She had never really been there before, as Patrick's friends helped him move in and he always went home for the holidays. She instantly collapsed on the nearest chair, groaning. "They don't like me. There, is that good enough?"