mutter.
Still none of your business
You didn’t take any of my advice, did you?
Of course I didn’t
You might want to consider it
I’m definitely not going to
I think you’ll change your mind
Not happening
Probably happening
Never happening
We need to reschedule our assignment
Tomorrow?
Fine
My place again?
Fine
12?
Fine
Goodnight
Don’t text me anymore
Sweet dreams
I turn my phone off and shove it back in my purse. My life is officially a living hell.
5
I wake up to the sound of something crashing – sounds like into a million pieces- and I’m only startled for a second.
When I got home last night my dad was so wasted he couldn’t even form words which isn’t like him – he’s a good drunk. Most of the time. There’re two days he loses it though – the day he married my mom and the day she left him. Last night was the day she left.
I need to buy a damn calendar so I can mark this shit down and find a way to distract him or at least remember to not come home.
The point being - he’s hung over this morning. Which means he’s not in the mood for Nate’s shit. And Nate is always full of shit.
I look at the clock; it’s almost eleven, which means Presley’s gonna be here in an hour. “Fuuuck,” I groan, running my hands over my eyes and forcing my ass to roll out of bed. Reluctantly, I head out to the living room to gauge the damage.
“You fucking idiots,” I mutter at the scene in front of me. My dad’s got Nate pinned to the ground as Nate struggles to get the upper hand. Their wrestling match has knocked over a floor lamp and overturned the coffee table. I swear to god, we’re making trips to Goodwill on a bi-weekly basis replacing broken furniture. “Can you guys get the hell up? Presley’s on her way over.”
“Presley?” my dad asks, taking his attention off Nate long enough that my dad is now the one on the ground.
“Yeah, that girl from my photography class. She’s gotta take picture of my damn life and this isn’t really the image I want displayed during our critique.”
“You trying to be someone you’re not?” Nate laughs as he plows my dad’s shoulders back to the floor. “Anyone would be lucky to have a picture of me to look at – this old man, not so much.”
I kick my foot into his shoulder and he sways, my dad’s quick for an old guy and has the upper hand in two seconds flat.
“Stay out of it, Nash,” Nate complains.
“You two are acting like infants.”
I give up on them and head to the shower. I really don’t have a choice – we’re gonna have to explore Presley’s landscape today. Which means dealing, not only with her, but Jolee too. Fanfuckingtastic.
I’m sitting at Jolee’s kitchen table with her and her mom and aunt, trying my best to charm the pants off LeeAnn because I’m pretty sure she knows I’ve snuck into her daughter’s bedroom a few times over the last couple of years; fending off Jolee’s advances because of said incidences and close proximity of mother- and because I’m not interested in screwing around with her anymore; and studying Presley’s mom who I know way too much about thanks to Presley’s oversharing on that first day of photography class.
The one person I’m here to see is still in bed even though she’s supposed to be at my house in five minutes. Apparently she was planning on blowing me off.
At twelve ten I excuse myself and head to the bathroom.
You’re late , I text her.
I figure, since she’s sleeping, that I’m not gonna get a response, but it comes seconds later.
Sorry. I forgot I had brunch plans with the family, not gonna make it
I shake my head at my phone. I was planning on leaving but now I think I’ll stay.
I head back to the kitchen, sit back in my chair with my cup of coffee and focus on Presley’s mom, Laura. “So, how do you like Georgia, Mrs. Knox?” I ask, leaning into her.
She glances at her sister then tells me, “I spent the first eighteen
Still none of your business
You didn’t take any of my advice, did you?
Of course I didn’t
You might want to consider it
I’m definitely not going to
I think you’ll change your mind
Not happening
Probably happening
Never happening
We need to reschedule our assignment
Tomorrow?
Fine
My place again?
Fine
12?
Fine
Goodnight
Don’t text me anymore
Sweet dreams
I turn my phone off and shove it back in my purse. My life is officially a living hell.
5
I wake up to the sound of something crashing – sounds like into a million pieces- and I’m only startled for a second.
When I got home last night my dad was so wasted he couldn’t even form words which isn’t like him – he’s a good drunk. Most of the time. There’re two days he loses it though – the day he married my mom and the day she left him. Last night was the day she left.
I need to buy a damn calendar so I can mark this shit down and find a way to distract him or at least remember to not come home.
The point being - he’s hung over this morning. Which means he’s not in the mood for Nate’s shit. And Nate is always full of shit.
I look at the clock; it’s almost eleven, which means Presley’s gonna be here in an hour. “Fuuuck,” I groan, running my hands over my eyes and forcing my ass to roll out of bed. Reluctantly, I head out to the living room to gauge the damage.
“You fucking idiots,” I mutter at the scene in front of me. My dad’s got Nate pinned to the ground as Nate struggles to get the upper hand. Their wrestling match has knocked over a floor lamp and overturned the coffee table. I swear to god, we’re making trips to Goodwill on a bi-weekly basis replacing broken furniture. “Can you guys get the hell up? Presley’s on her way over.”
“Presley?” my dad asks, taking his attention off Nate long enough that my dad is now the one on the ground.
“Yeah, that girl from my photography class. She’s gotta take picture of my damn life and this isn’t really the image I want displayed during our critique.”
“You trying to be someone you’re not?” Nate laughs as he plows my dad’s shoulders back to the floor. “Anyone would be lucky to have a picture of me to look at – this old man, not so much.”
I kick my foot into his shoulder and he sways, my dad’s quick for an old guy and has the upper hand in two seconds flat.
“Stay out of it, Nash,” Nate complains.
“You two are acting like infants.”
I give up on them and head to the shower. I really don’t have a choice – we’re gonna have to explore Presley’s landscape today. Which means dealing, not only with her, but Jolee too. Fanfuckingtastic.
I’m sitting at Jolee’s kitchen table with her and her mom and aunt, trying my best to charm the pants off LeeAnn because I’m pretty sure she knows I’ve snuck into her daughter’s bedroom a few times over the last couple of years; fending off Jolee’s advances because of said incidences and close proximity of mother- and because I’m not interested in screwing around with her anymore; and studying Presley’s mom who I know way too much about thanks to Presley’s oversharing on that first day of photography class.
The one person I’m here to see is still in bed even though she’s supposed to be at my house in five minutes. Apparently she was planning on blowing me off.
At twelve ten I excuse myself and head to the bathroom.
You’re late , I text her.
I figure, since she’s sleeping, that I’m not gonna get a response, but it comes seconds later.
Sorry. I forgot I had brunch plans with the family, not gonna make it
I shake my head at my phone. I was planning on leaving but now I think I’ll stay.
I head back to the kitchen, sit back in my chair with my cup of coffee and focus on Presley’s mom, Laura. “So, how do you like Georgia, Mrs. Knox?” I ask, leaning into her.
She glances at her sister then tells me, “I spent the first eighteen
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