Numbers (Louis Tomlinson)

Chapter 5

I take my hair out of its tight braid and throw the hairband somewhere in my room. Turning back around I crawl downstairs and snoop the kitchen.

"What you doing?" My dad's voice calls from the living room, making me jump.

"I wanted a snack." I answer, slowing my breathing to its normal pace.

"You'll spoil your appetite."

"Then let's go out for dinner." I shrug, walking up to my dad.

"Your mother isn't home yet."

I sigh. Every single night of my life I have to wait until at least 8:30 to eat, my mother's late work schedule ruining everything. Dragging myself out of the kitchen and up the stairs I decide to take a shower. It's only 7:00 of course. I scrub at my scalp with shampoo, tangle my hair with conditioner, and cleanse my body with soap. By the time I'm done the mirror has fogged up, making it impossible to look through. I sigh and turn on the fan, I'll come back in twenty minutes and it'll be cleared.

I throw on a sweatshirt and lounge pants. No need to dress up too much for only a few hours more. I put my hair up in a towel and glide downstairs. The scent of the kitchen immediately hits me. Spaghetti, of course the only meal that I actually completely despise. I groan and step in the living room. It has not been my day. First Louis, then going home to a completely disgusting meal. I know i shouldn't complain so much but I'm seriously a whiner, things like this completely annoy me. I have no patience.

I scroll through my phone for a few minutes before I hear the garage door open; my mother's home.

"Dinner." My dad calls out. I shuffle to the kitchen and grab a plate before ignoring my dad's spaghetti and filling the plate with leftovers from a few nights ago.

"You should at least try it." My mother scolds.

"Mum, its spaghetti, its the same every single time. There's nothing to 'try'." I roll my eyes before moping into the dining room, taking a seat at the table for four. I don't see the reason for four anymore. That chair brings back too many memories anyhow. My dad and mum walk in and take their seats, completely silent. Its nights like these where I completely question why I even live here. Nobody seems to acknowledge me. But something's different tonight. My mother actually gets up the nerves to talk.

"So how was your day?" She says between bites of spaghetti.

"Awful." I respond with my signature sourness, something that I don't even care about effecting other people. Oh that's right, it's because I don't give a living crap about anything. That's me, bland Elle.

"What was so bad about it?"

"Stupid people, the usual." I shrug, taking a drink of my Diet Coke.

"Well that's not very nice." My dad says.

"Oh, well." I shrug, stabbing my fork in a slice of pepper.

"So who is this 'stupid people' you speak of?" My mother changes the subject.

"This guy named Louis. He won't leave me alone."

"Louis...that sounds familiar."

"Mum, there's like 50 bazillion Louis' in the world. Of course I've talked about multiple before."

"Well, would I know this Louis?"

I hope she wouldn't of asked that.

"Yeah the one that's a few years older than me and I fancied him when I was like twelve." I mumble, hoping she didn't hear any of that.

"Ah the singing one. I remember that, oh how much you liked him." She's saying all this to humiliate me, a common mother thing.

"I remember him too. I didn't like him very much." Dad seems to be pouting. I don't know why.

"That makes two of us, dad." I laugh.

"Are you kidding me? How couldn't of you liked that precious thing?" Mum turns to both of us like we were crazy.

"He was just plain rude." Dad answers harshly.

"He's annoying." I add on.

"Wow, a few years ago you would've killed to even talk to him, now you can't stand him?" My mother seems amazed like she was looking a serial killer.

"People change." Is all I say.

"Yeah they do, so what has he changed into over the past few years?" Another subject change there, Mum.

"Well now he's signed to a record label and goes to the university downtown." I answer anyways.

"That's all?"

"He may've said more, but I wouldn't probably have been listening." I lie.

"So how did you meet him recently, like where has he all of a sudden popped up so that you would notice him?"

"Everywhere. The pool. The park."

"Are you going to keep in touch with him?"

"He seems to think so. I gave him my number so he'd leave me alone."

"Well that was nice of you."

"Did you not hear me, Mum? I did it so he'd leave me alone."

"Well I thought usually when a guy hit on you you would of just left them without saying anything, but you obviously talked to him." She seems to be doing this because she's extremely curious. But why? Why would she give a single care about Louis? And furthermore, Louis was not hitting on me. There's a difference between trying to "catch up" with someone and hitting on them. At least I think that's what was happening.

"He wasn't hitting on me." I roll my eyes.

"Well excuse my confusion." She seems offended. I ignore her expression and stand up, walking to the kitchen. I scrub at my plate and when some of the cheese sauce doesn't come off I just set it in the sink. I'll get yelled for it later but honestly I don't care. Honestly I don't care about any of my chores.

I mean what's the point of doing chores if you're not getting an allowance from it? That in conclusion is my philosophy of chores; they're useless and do not get me any farther in life.