First Impressions

Farting. It's disgusting, revolting at times, stinks, and relieving. I always feel disgusted and better when I fart. But I absolutely hate it when other people fart. It may seem weird, but haven't you ever noticed how other people's farts sound different? I once heard about a woman and a man getting a divorce over an argument of how people should fart. I personally believe that people fart different ways. Animals are a whole other ball game. Animal farts are way worse than human farts. I wonder if an animal feels disgustingly relieved when they blow air out of their ass.

"I can't believe that came out of a dog." Brad comments, scrunching his nose up and shielding it with his hand. I cough and choke before burying my face in my pillow. Pumba whines, tilting his head to the side. Pumba was the chubbiest of the pups, making him even cuter. I could honestly squeal for five minutes straight if I wasn't afraid Brad would pummel me.

I lift my head up from the pillow and look at Brad, splayed out beside me on my bed and staring over me at Pumba, who was lying on his doggie bed by my closet. I don't know why, but I feel somewhat closer to him. It's been two weeks since we first found the pups and Mac, not to mention we turned in the demon baby. Mrs. Harret had came up to us and asked us about the tape but we just looked at each other like we didn't know there was even a tape. She dismissed it, thinking that she just forgot to put the tape in. Even though Brad still goes out with Shelby, he's started spending a lot of time with me, helping me with my new dogs. We sometimes do math homework together when we need help on different formulas. I still think it's nasty when I see him and Shelby swallowing each other's faces during lunch.

I've learned to look away now.

Shale and I have grown closer, but I do have to say that Trev is a lot closer. Even though he's a boy and I'm a girl, we can share a lot with each other. More than I can with a girl because he doesn't get so emotional and he gives his advice and opinion without worrying. He's very blunt and sometimes brutally honest, but he doesn't sugar coat it. When he tells me his opinion, he gives it to me truthfully and that's all I want. Tash is busy a lot with his job, but we still find time to hang out at least once a week. He works two jobs, the front desk at the library and a waiter at Steak 'n Shake. He told me that he is trying to save up enough money for his own car and a roadtrip that he wants to take after he graduates his senior year. He wants to visit every state and then go to Mexico for a sombrero. I told him to bring me back one too.

Brad turns his head to look at me while I still stare at him, lost in thought. His eyes were still the same steely blue, but as I keep looking at them more and more they start to look silvery blue. Shiny and deep, almost like silver at the bottom of blue water reflecting from the sunlight. His hair is also starting to get a little longer, only two inches from his shoulders. After a moment, I break out of my trance and blink really fast a couple of times. But even though my daze has subsided, he still looks at me.

"Hello?" I ask, waving my hand in front of his face. He jerks back a bit before regaining his composure. I cough, Pumba's fart still lingering. It amazes me that in most movies and books that they never talk about farts or have something happen with a fart. I mean, it's nothing to be ashamed of, we're only human.

"Ok, I'm getting out of here before my lungs start growing some toxic fungus or something." I mutter out, sounding nasally due to the fact that I am plugging my nose. Yeah, that bad. Brad follows me out my door and downstairs where Mom was just coming through the door. We stop at the last four steps together, watching her growl and throw her suitcase down to the ground before ripping her suit jacket off and stomping on it. Then she just stands there, heaving.

"I guess you had a bad day then." I say, walking down the last four steps. She faces me with an angered look, but I know that look isn't for me. I know when the look is for me, but this one is for someone else.

"I quit my job." She hisses, her eyes having a far away look in them while a sinister smile takes place. I could tell that she was probably replaying how she quit in her head, undoubtedly screaming and throwing objects.

"Why?" I question. I'll admit it, I am selfish. We moved here because of her job, now she just quits? I gave up my friends from fifth grade to be here. I had an entire reputation over there that no one else could match and now I don't even know if someone out-did mine. I might as well be an 80's rockstar has-been.

"I never realized how my boss is such an asshole." She says like it had just dawned on her. "Would you believe that he just sabotages everyone's career to make himself look good? He even fired someone because one of his business associates didn't 'approve' of the employee's work. It was one fucking spelling error."

Did I mention that Mom cusses a lot when she's in a catastrophic mood? It's amusing as long as it isn't directed towards me. She's so funny when she's angry because when that emotion is directed to someone else, she talks about them to me and then we have a two-hour long conversation about how we're losing hope in humanity. Like I said: amusing.

"How did you quit this time?" I ask, crossing my arms and leaning back on the heels of my feet. This wasn't the first time she's quit. In my entire life I can actually say that my mother has managed to be the most emotionally shifting person on the planet. She'll start a job that she really wants then after a couple of weeks, she'll get bored. Then she'll find a new hobby, get a job, and then quit. Such a vicious cycle.

"He told me that he wanted a new pot of coffee, saying that the way I made it was too strong. Too strong my ass! It wasn't even coffee, it was a damn cappuccino!" She bursts, throwing her arms up before storming off to the kitchen. I watch her go for a minute before going after her, Brad tagging along. I walk in to see her getting a bunch of pans out for no reason, probably just doing it for the satisfaction of banging things together and making a lot of noise.

"And so I threw his mug against the wall, threw everything off his desk while tipping it over, and told him that I quit after I said that he is a dick and that I hoped he enjoys hell." She says heatedly. I nod, leaning against the doorway. She continues beating the pans together, moving them all around the kitchen to make it look like she is trying to find the perfect spot for them.

"So, what are you going to do now?" I ask, not really worried about her being off work. She turns to me, the crashing sound stopping abruptly. She thinks for a minute before an excited smile replaces the angry scowl on her face. She drops her pans before walking over and grabbing my hands.

"I'm going to own my own flower shop!" She squeals, jumping up and down. My arms and head move with her, but the rest of my body is still frozen in place. Her own flower shop? This woman can't even leave the house with the same shoes without me telling her and she wants to own a flower shop? God, help me.

"Um, Mom, are you absolutely sure that you can-"

"And you get to work for me!" She cuts me off, the jumping coming to a halt. "It's about time you start working anyways. You can't just coast through life without lifting a finger."

I stare at her blankly. You have got to be kidding me.

"Mom, I have worked before." I say slowly. Back in California, I worked at a surfboard shop along the beach. I'd help design them, giving Greg ideas for more appealing looks. It was just a summer job, but it paid good money and I got to know a lot of people that way.

"Oh, right." She says, her smiling fading slightly but then returning back just as bright and giddy. "But I need an employee I know I have definite power over, so, you're working for me."

I look over at Brad who is looking back at me. I knew that if I have to work in a flower shop, I'm not doing it alone. Brad is probably sensing this because he gives me a look and shakes his head. My eyes narrow and we have a stare-off while Mom keeps talking about everything she'll do with the shop. Eventually, he looks away. I turn back to Mom.

"If I have to work, Brad will too." I say with a little smirk. Mom stops talking and lets it register in her mind before letting out another squawk of excitement.

"That would be wonderful!"

"That was completely cruel." Brad comments as we both walk out of the house, all of the pups and Mac on leashes. "I can't work in a flower shop."

"Shut up, bitchcakes, and deal with it." I tell him jokingly. "Why? It's not manly enough?"

"No, it's not. Everyone will think I'm gay." He exasperates. I laugh and look over at him.

"No they won't." I say simply.

"And why not?"

"Do you honestly think anyone will notice you with this fine piece of ass around?" I ask, slapping myself on the butt. He just rolls his eyes and continues walking. "Besides, I honestly think it's kind of smart for a guy to work in a girly store." He looks back at me, confused. "Because, only girls go in there really, so that gives you a vantage point of finding a more . . . suitable girlfriend rather than Shelby."

"What's wrong with Shelby?" He asks, making me send him a doubtful look. "Ok, stupid question."

"Find a girlfriend that isn't going to look like a hooker at your grandma's funeral." I say, tripping a little over a pebble. Brad gives me the 'I Can't Believe You Just Tripped Over Something So Non-Existent' look.

"You're a klutz." He says bluntly. I shrug his comment off and continue walking, yammering on about anything that comes to my mind before we end up in front of my house again. Just as we start to walk back in, a very flashy looking car pulls into Brad's driveway. The man inside has a stunning resemblance to Brad, black hair and blue eyes, but not quite as interesting as Brad's. He is wearing a business suit and has a suitcase in hand when he steps out of the car. He doesn't notice us at first, but then Mac starts growling ever so slightly and that makes him see us.

He doesn't do anything except stare at Brad who was staring back. But when I look at the boy beside me, his face was scowling darkly and this made me realize that this is supposed to be an awkward silence. Except it didn't feel very awkward to me, just sort of out of place. There is a difference between the two. Awkward gives you that feeling like you know it's going to be tense and uncomfortable; while being out of place just makes you feel like you don't know what to do with yourself.

I decide to go ahead and leave both of the male species alone and go inside, but when I start taking the leashes from Brad's hand, the man looks over at me and the look he gives me suddenly makes me feel like I really am apart of this awkward silence. Why, I have no idea. But I could just tell from the look he gives me that he doesn't like me.

"Who are you?" He says in a deep, rude way. I'm at loss for words for a moment before finding my way and voice.

"Autum Flicka, who are you?" I shoot back, but not with as much venom he had used on me. My mother did teach me manners. He crinkles his nose in distaste.

"I am Brad's father." He says almost like he's lecturing. "Autum Flicka. What kind of name is that?"

He reminds me so much of when I first met Brad: obnoxious and irritating. I manage to hold my tongue from saying unpleasant words, but give him a response none the less.

"My name. What kind of name is Brad's father?" I question, feeling like I'm scolding a two year old. A very mean two year old. "I mean, it's like your parents just wanted you to have a kid named Brad. How traumatizing, having such high standards."

"Hold your tongue, girl." He hisses, fed up with my response to his unappreciated question. "I deserve respect from-"

"Psh." I say, waving him off. "I don't know you so how can I respect someone who doesn't even know me? Besides, you were being the rude one."

I have to be honest here, I am a little shaky. The kind of shaky that you get from excitement and fear, like how you almost get into a fight but the principal breaks it up before you can do anything. But who does this man think he is? He acts as if he owns me like a slave. I watch him open his mouth to retort something back, but Brad beats him to it.

"What are you doing here; you're supposed to be in Arizona." I can't help but shudder a little from Brad's tone of voice. It was just so . . . cold. The man is cut off again from Mrs. Flitcher coming out of the house, stopping dead in her tracks.

"Randy. What are you doing here?" She asks, her voice sounding very confused. He turns to look at her, the scowling look still on his face.

"I came home early because the business associate just decided to drop the deal." He says while eyeing her up and down in disgust. "Go change; that is not your color."

This immediately flares something up inside me. Mrs. Flitcher is nothing but a sweet woman. She has been a friend to my mom and a very loving parent to Brad. How dare he just waltz in here and say that is not your color. I am so freaking pissed right now.

"Well that is not necessarily your color either, Brad's father." I say, eyeing his suit. His head snaps so quickly my way I was surprised he didn't get whiplash.

"You are not involved in this conversation, mind your own business." He shoots out, making me feel a little small. I hate it when people think that they can make you feel like they are your superior. It was like Cinderella and her step sisters and evil step mother. The bitches.

"Why you little shi-" A hand immediately covers my mouth, making me realize that Brad is still there. He gives me a hard look but not mean. Like he is telling me it's a bad idea. But this still doesn't stop Brad's father from coming closer to me.

"Take your hand off her." He demands, yanking Brad's hand from my mouth. "I want to hear what she wants to say." I snort, Mac still growling and bristling the hair on her back. The pups have now sensed the aurora of this man as well and weren't pleased, but they keep a self-restraint.

"Tsh, that's the first." I scoff before glaring at him with all of my anger. "You're a little shitpie that needs to stop being such a dick before I put a condom on top of your shitass head."

Brad tenses beside me while Mrs. Flitcher's eyes pop out with surprise. Now this is an awkward silence. Brad's father looks down at Dannit who is the closest to him, baring his teeth. Dannit is the most protective of all of the pups, and the most adventurous not to mention the biggest of the pups.

"Little mutt." Brad's father growls before sending a kick at Dannit. He lets out a yelp and jumps back from the blow, but when he jumps back I leap forward, taking the man down. We land hard on the pavement with me on top, beating him with my hand. This is when all of the chaos starts. Brad's father is yelling obscene words while I continue to hit him, my dogs are all surrounding us and barking, Mrs. Flitcher and Brad are trying to yank me off of him, and Shelby shows up.

"You brat-ass! Don't you ever touch my dog, ever!" I shout over all of the commotion. Brad finally manages to yank me off from grabbing me around the waist and I go flying back, still trying to claw at the man. Mrs. Flitcher doesn't bother to even help him up, but pets Dannit. I heave while Brad continues to hold me tightly, making sure that I don't attack again. Shelby comes up beside the man, the only one even showing sympathy towards him. But then I see something that Brad's father didn't see: Mrs. Flitcher giving me an appreciative look. I look up at Brad who was glaring at his dad, but stopping when I look at him. He doesn't look mad or anything. He just had a face on that said that he was thinking about something.

"Let me go, I don't want to be around him." I whisper enough for only him to hear. His arms slowly unravel themselves from my waist and I walk away to the front door of my house, whistling for my dogs to follow me.

I am so calling Trev.