Reads: 88

3.

Great. 9 a.m. on a Saturday and I’m pissed and stoned, making my way through Tesco.

Hello there. She’s ignored me. Never mind.

Unable to contain my hunger, I rip open a pack of Cheetos and toss it back in the basket after a few mouthfuls. Time for the beer can to be popped open. That sound. The sound of an opening can...it tickles my ears and I like that. I like it a lot. I take a sip. It’s bitter but I like the edge. Edge...

What was that Aussie fiasco about anyway? What was her name? Mandy? Nora? Nellie? Nancy?

I give up. Nellie or Nancy. Whatever it was, I’ll just leave it. I needed a shag, she wanted me, it just so happened we were placed in the same room and I do not answer for my actions.

The familiar beep beep of the old Sony Ericsson takes me away from my thoughts and guides my shaky hand towards the phone. I’ve got a new text. Jill? It’s probably Jill saying we’re not working as a couple...for about the thousandth time. When was this ridiculous idea of us ever working together even born? And how did we get to the point where I actually stay at her place for the night to talk? She understands me. Good point but that doesn’t mean we’ve got to be an item. That’s what friends are for. Understanding. I never asked for understanding. But she is a good fuck so I shouldn’t complain. She’s dirty, hot and understanding.

I flick open the phone. Let’s see. Two missed calls, one new text. One call from Kay. Alright, I’ll call him once I’m done with the shopping. One call from Nancy. Who the blazers is Nancy? Open the new text:

Hey, just texting to see how you are. Love you xxxxxx

Alright, well someone got excited with the kisses at the end there. It’s from Nancy. Nancy...Nancy...Nan---

Oh Nancy! That’s the virgin! Oh bollocks. Do I have to answer that? I’ll just ignore it. I don’t think she’ll cry over that too much.

“Umm, hello?” the cool voice, flavoured with the slight heat of impatience and raw sexiness wakes me up.

“Right,” I murmur, getting on with laying out my groceries onto the check out.

Oh, sexy check-out girl, you wouldn’t understand. You’re too fit to understand. Maybe though, just maybe, you would understand. You’re fit, i.e. you’re wanted. And I’m wanted, too. We’re both part of the same group that struggles to survive in a world full of less attractive, more desperate people who are in need of people like us. The problem is, there’s more of them than of us, therefore there’s higher demand for us. Does she know what I’m thinking? You probably don’t. But I wonder if she’s thinking what I’m thinking. I want to take her home. Would she agree to go on a date with me maybe? I could take her out some place fancy. She’d love that. Would be a slight change to her everyday lunch at the local KFC.

Moment’s gone. Or is it?

“10 quid 99, please,” she looks indifferent. Maybe that’s a good thing? There might be a bigger chance of her accepting my request. No, not in public. But then there’s not many people around at the moment so I wouldn’t be publicly embarrassed for asking her out. Not that that granny knows any of my mates or anything. She wouldn’t care if I asked out a check-out girl. So I go in.

I hand her 20 pounds and add,

“Keep the change. Buy yourself something pretty, say, for our date tonight?”

She eyes me up and down slowly, then says,

“Buy myself summat I will and go out with you I will not. For your information, I don’t date snobby college boys who clearly don’t respect or don’t even consider the idea of female dignity. So until you start taking at least one of the many girls you sleep with on a daily basis seriously, I’m unavailable.”

I’m blushing. Why the fuck am I blushing? Crap! I snatch the bag from her held out hand and storm out onto the street outside.

Fuck this shit, I’m calling Jill.

It’s ringing. One. Two. Oh great. Answering machine.

“Hey-ho. You’ve reached my answering machine and if such a thing has happened, you know just what to do. Leave a message after the beep. Jill.”

Great. This is just great. Turned down by some lower-class school drop-out and then turned down by my own supposed girlfriend. She’s not a real girlfriend though. She sort of is. Just to keep my reputation gleaming. Sluts love a committed lad. Especially if the girlfriend’s fit. Shows he’s not a failure in the ladies’ department.

I’ve been turned down twice and it’s not about to happen again.

I get home, feeling like shit. Before even opening the door I know something is going on. Something I won’t like.

Uncle Darren’s in my room. What is he up to?

I burst into my room. My TV is being disconnected and my laptop is sitting open on my desk. That wasn’t there before.

“What the fuck?” I feel myself yelling. “Just what do you call this?”

“Sorry, boy,” the typically calm voice answers my not at all calm one. “Your mother told me to. You know, just to get you started on the new year in college.”

“What the fuck does my TV have anything to do with that? And Mum called? Why am I the last one to hear about this? As bloody usual!”

“Your mother is concerned after receiving last year’s exam grades, that’s all. That’s the only reason she called. You were this close to failing the year, Josh. We don’t want that to happen again. So we just thought that the telly downstairs would be more than enough for the two of us.”

I slump onto the armchair in the corner. Fuck this. I forgot all about college as well. At least that will be better than hanging round the house all day with my uncle being all patronising after receiving Mum’s instructions on how to raise me over the phone. The turned on laptop pisses me off. I don’t even know why but it does. I don’t remember turning it on and I don’t remember leaving it on my desk either.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be now, huh? Now she’s using you to get to me? Brilliant. You take away my telly now. But what’s next? Laptop? Phone? Tap it maybe to make sure I don’t have any friends she doesn’t approve of? Hey! What a grand idea! Why don’t you do that right now? Because I totally approve of that!”

“Alright, no need to get fiery with me. I’m not your mother! I’m not even your father. And if you need to know, there are a few sites you will no longer be able to visit on that laptop.”

Fuck. I feel so angry I no longer want to yell at Mum. Or him. Or anyone for that matter. I just sit back down, brooding over it. I didn’t even mind so much about my telly being taken away. But my daily wank? That’s just too much.

I wave him out. He leaves me alone, dragging the telly with him. Poor chap. I didn’t mean to yell at him. I know she controls him completely. As her younger brother, it’s simply Darren’s survival instinct, obeying her. Still, I don’t like this. Since I’ve been fourteen I didn’t have to worry about her trickery. Until now. Now she decided she wants to turn me into her very own little gentleman. Why now? Why me? What about that wanker Piper? He’s not even her real son and yet she seems to genuinely appreciate his existence, unlike mine. From the moment she married that worthless piece of shit Fred Piper, local millionaire and business superstar, she’s been all over his little spoilt son. I hate him.

Fuck this, I don’t have enough energy to bitch about him. Even if I’m only doing it in my head.

Pick up the phone. Missed calls: 3. All of them from Kay. Might as well call him.

He picks up almost instantaneously. He really is a needy bastard, isn’t he? Who cares. I love him. I really do. Sometimes, in my most desperate moments I like to think that if I fail in finding myself a wife, I’ll end up with him.

He’s picked up the phone but there’s a very long pause before he says rather slowly,

“Hi...”

“You are, aren’t you?”

There’s a long pause. Then he laughs.

“I got you, man. I got you.”

“So?”

“So?”

“You called, Kay. Like four times in the past two hours. What’s going on?”

“Not sure.”

“Come on, Kay. I’m having a bad day. What is it?”

Pause...he’s thinking about it. I sigh and that works like a spell,

“Don’t hang up, buddy, I’ve got it, right?”

Another long pause.

“Right. Remember that prick Piper?”

“Of course I do. He’s basically stolen my life from me.”

“Right, him. Remember how when your mum married his dad he decided to stay in wherever the fuck he’s from cuz of inveniences?”

“Inveniences? I think you mean inconveniences?”

“Whatever, dude,” he really doesn’t care. “So there’s bad news, right? Guess who’s in town.”

I don’t reply. This is impossible.

“Piper! Apparently he wants to be closer to his roots or some shit. And he’s starting at our college next week.”

“Shit! Do you know what this means? Crap! Man, I can’t take this, I’ll call you later. Love you, bye.”

I hang up before he has time to figure out what just happened. I can’t believe this. My perfect goody-two-shoes step-brother is in town. And it seems like he’s here for at least a year.

I call Jill again. I don’t want to seem desperate but I need a shag. I can’t do this. Everything has been going downhill after that Sally big-tits from the local Tesco rejected me.

The phone is ringing. One. Two. Three. Busy tone. What the actual fuck? She clearly sent that after checking who was calling. Is she actually avoiding me?

Whatever. I hit my stash.


Submitted: October 21, 2011

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