Dedicated to @Undertheclifford bc she made this wonderful cover
~
Chapter 1
“Jamie where the-“ the frantic, worrying, middle aged mother asked practically sprinting around the store.
“Mom, I’m right here.”
My mother rushed over to me, grabbing my sleeve and dragging me across the store over to her shopping cart. Clearly angry, she gripped onto her cart and trudged on, but not before double checking to make sure I was still by her side.
“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? You could have been molested! I saw that sketchy bagger employee practically eyeing you down when we walked in. I swear if I—“ the woman went on and on as we exited the store with a large amount of groceries.
I sighed, “Mom, I was just getting tampons. I’m twenty, I think I’m old enough to walk across the store, alone, and get tampons.”
My mother stayed silent for a minute, accepting the fact that she was wrong, popped a cigarette into her mouth, then mumbled something about if I was really old enough then why wasn’t I in college. I also mumbled something bad back about her; unfortunately she didn’t seem to hear me.
It wasn’t my fault I wasn’t in college while the rest of my grade was probably graduating by now. Unemployment was a trait that has been passed down through my family for years. My mother just recently became a janitress at the county public school and my father has been a tour guide at a small city zoo for almost two years now. I on the other hand have never had a stable job for over two weeks. I tried babysitting when I was younger, but I hate children and honestly those kids were more like dogs than humans. When I was around sixteen I applied for McDonalds. I had that job for I think five days; I made the mistake of revealing the ingredients of what was actually in the hamburgers to one of the customers. By the time I was eighteen I had done a lot of sitting around and so had my parents so they told me to try to get a job again. Surprisingly I did at Costco. But I’ve been sworn by the company not to tell anybody what happened that caused me to be fired. So that leaves me off at where I am, unemployed and without money.
By the time we had driven back into the garage at my (shack) house, brought the groceries out of the minivan, and then put the groceries back into the pantry, both my mom and I were rather tired. We both dragged ourselves into the living room then plopped ourselves onto different sofas from each other. My mother grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV so she could watch the news channel and argue with herself about politics until my father got home. I on the other hand found my phone very interesting.
About fifteen minutes and eighteen commercials into our regular do nothing routine my mom said something rather odd and possibly interesting, “Isn’t that boy the kid who use to live down the street from us, the one who always thought banging on metal pots was the same as playing drums?”
I looked up from my phone doubting that my mother was correct being as the cigarettes were probably getting to her head by now. Honestly, she was probably just desperate for a conversation. But as I racked my brain through the memories of the kid who lived down the street from us when I was nine, the kid who I use to call my best (and only) friend, I was surprised to find that she was correct. There on our fourteen inch not so flat screen TV was Ashton Irwin.
I practically jumped up from the couch, which I must say is a very difficult task, and ran towards the 90’s TV to get a better look.
“Pop star, Ashton Irwin, from Five Seconds of Summer, debuts his new faded neck scarf—“
I ran my hands through my bleached blonde hair trying to fathom this. This... Ashton.
“Man, Ashton is hot—“my mother most likely not accidently said to herself as my father walked in the door. This was my mother’s way of trying to get attention from my father. Unfortunately for her, he couldn’t care less.
My father walked in, throwing his coat on the floor, and walked up the stairs into his room where he would stay until tomorrow morning where he left for work. I almost felt bad for my mother, I couldn’t help that she had such an awful taste in men. But then I remembered what she said about me not being in college and suddenly all my pity for her went away.
My mother popped out her sixth cigarette of the day trying to figure out how someone who grew up in the most lax neighborhood could have ended up as a punk (or at least that’s what the TV said) celebrity. I went to reach for a cigarette myself but my mother smacked my hand away before it was even in the box, “I smoke to enjoy it, you smoke to die” she said rather bluntly to me.
I laughed for a second, my eyes flickering between her and the TV, “Did you just use a John Green quote? And I’m pretty sure it’s ‘Ya’ll smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.’” I laughed more at the last part. Mom shrugged, trying her best to ignore me, while taking in a deep breath of smoke. “Either way, we’re all going to die. I just don’t want you to get addicted like me and die sooner, plus smoking can give you ca-“, her words froze in mid air and we both knew that she messed up.
“It’s alright, saying the word isn’t going to kill me.” I said after a long silence.
We seemed to forget the mistake though and directed our attention back to the TV.
“I still can’t believe it, that kid Aswald-“
“Ashton” I interrupted
“-actually got farther than the local fast food restaurant with his career. I swear after that kid permanently stained my porch with washable markers that he was never going to get anywhere in life, but now look at him-“
I stopped paying attention to my mom after awhile and zoned out on the news. Ashton was a lot taller now. Last time I saw him he was only about four feet tall, from the TV he looked at least six. He also looked so much mature now. Ashton definitely lacked that quality when he was nine. He also had a pretty attractive face, if you know what I mean.
“Maybe I should go to one of his concerts” I randomly said, shocking myself.
My mother put out her cigarette and stared at me with an amused look in her eyes, “I thought you never wanted to see him again, wasn’t the last thing you said to him before he moved was, ‘I never liked you anyway you lying, double crossing, son of a-‘“
Hey, I didn’t know what that meant when I was ten, I was just really angry and upset at him for moving away from me. We were the closest thing I ever got to best friends. But he couldn’t help his dad got a better job offer three towns away.
“Mom, I was ten” I repeated what I had just said in my mind.
The middle aged lady got up from her couch and made her way to the kitchen where she would consume her failed marriage through a bag a Cheetos, “You are twenty now, practically an adult. It’s fine with me as long as you pay for your own tickets and there is no alcohol involved. Gosh I didn’t even think of all the drunks who were going to be there-“
I was going to spend my last bit of birthday money and what was supposed to be college funds on nose bleed seats at Ashton Irwin’s band’s concert.
