The car screeched to a halt outside Alex's window as the sun had completely faded from the horizon hours before, and the time on his clock read 11:30. He almost smirked to himself as he layed there in his bed.
Congrats Mom, earlier than usual. I bet there weren't a lot of young guys at the club tonight with that record timing of only 3 hours being spent there.
He hears the garage door swing open and the clicking of heels before the prompt slam shut. Sitting his book on his nightstand and quickly shutting off his light, he pulled the blankets over his head. It's safe to say that Alex wasn't in the mood (if ever) to be harrassed about his lack of self-worth or how he really needed to improve on his kitchen cleaning skills while his 38 year old mother lived it up in clubs with her coworkers, on the prowl for another temporary boyfriend to wrap around her (perfectly manicured) finger and get more money out of.
Not that it was ever spent towards her child; that would be much to motherly of a thing to do for Amanda Fallows. It was spent on Coach purses and makeup to cake her already youthful features with, more hair products to dye her original wave of jet black hair a California-kissed blonde. It was spent on tanning salons and manicures, and plastic surgeries that Alex didn't even know existed. She enjoyed preserving her youth and making herself feel better while her son, Alex, slaved over his studies and maintaining a home she never seemed to be at long.
So Alex fell into forced sleep before the screams of impatience for perfunctory cleaning invaded his dreams.
YOU ARE READING
The Kids on Exspes Street
Novela JuvenilWe've always been the odd ones out. We've always been able to pretend. We always thought we were exactly what our parents made us out to be. So we did everyone a favor; we ran away. Cover Art Credit: gelatoandchoco
