Never Been Kissed

- NINETEEN -

                                                            -• NINETEEN •-

 

Heather, as she wanted us to call her now, had gone out to run a few errands, leaving Laurel in charge of the house. I liked Laurel, she was bossy enough not to be a complete control freak and she knew how to have a good time. And she told off Beck a lot too. That part I liked too much.

“Stop drinking out of the milk carton you giant loser!” Laurel ground out as she messed up Beck’s already mussed hair. “Who wants to drink your spit? Gross! And you know you backwash too. You nasty little bugger.”

“Ew!” Opal turned up her nose at Beck.

I laughed.

Beck grumbled. “Stop laughing Amber, it’s not even funny. You haven’t defended me once while Laurel roughed me up today.”

Maybe because I don’t want to, a mean voice in my head spoke. I bit my lip before the hurtful words could escape my mouth.

Laurel tackled Beck again, rubbing her elbow vigorously into his scalp. Opal followed suit with a sadistic giggle, as she climbed over the back of the chair and onto Beck’s shoulders. I think hanging out with Laurel was rubbing off on Opal a little too much. But I’d decided to deal with it later. Opal was enjoying herself and Beck was getting the beat down he so utterly deserved.

“Becky!” she laughed viciously as she roughed him up too. He gave me a pleading look, which I ignored.

A few more minutes dedicated to torturing and tormenting Beck and Opal and Laurel fell to the floor, winded and giggling. Beck was rubbing his head (which I guessed, by now, would be pretty sore) and the blotchy pink spots on his cheeks.

I stifled the urge to burst into fits of laughter like my sister was engaging in on the floor.

I heard a growl.

Opal groaned, clutching her stomach as she sat up. “I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, me too,” Laurel agreed before glancing down at her wrist watch. “It’s lunchtime anyway, we should really eat.”

“Mom didn’t leave any money for takeout.” Beck shrugged, trying to fix his disheveled hair.

Laurel groaned. “That’s okay; we can find something here to eat.”

“Like what?” Beck asked, a smirk gliding across his lips. “You can’t even make ramen, let alone cook, Laurel.”

She rolled her eyes and threw a magazine that had fallen to the floor during their scuffle at him. “Shut up!”

After we all dusted ourselves off and washed our hands, we trekked through the Lozier’s kitchen, pilfering through the cupboards and the fridge for something to eat. They didn’t have vegetables, pasta, rice or anything I was familiar with stored in their house. What they did have was appalling. I was surprised none of them were morbidly obese. There were cans of soup, ravioli, spaghetti-o’s and all other factory fabricated concoctions piled up in the cupboards, piles upon piles of ramen and frozen dinners in the freezer.

Laurel didn’t want anything but Ramen, and it was the only thing Beck was willing to cook, since it only took three minutes, so I grudgingly agreed. The only person who objected to it all was Opal.

“What’s ramen?” she demanded.

Laurel looked at my little sister as if she was crazy. She dropped to her knees, her palms resting lightly on her tiny shoulders. “You don’t know what’s ramen? The pinnacle of comfort food, the staple of a college dorm room, the instant noodle that tastes unbelievably good?”