The Club Is Open Until 8:00Pm

La mer
Qu'on voit danser le long des golfes clairs
A des reflets d'argent
La mer
Des reflets changeants
Sous la pluie

I had no idea what this possible meant or what the dude was even talking about. I checked it out because it was listed somewhere online that Charles Trenet was one of my mom's biggest influences. I mean it sounded decent, like the tune, but I couldn't understand him, like screamo, only foreign. Imogene laughed at this analogy. I didn't.

Imogene dragged the clicker thing back to the beginning of the video and replayed it. "Wow. He's pretty old." I looked at her. "Who, the song or him?" She shrugged. "Both." I shook my head. Imogene suddenly got an idea. She typed in the search bar, 'Lynnea Du Pont'. She clicked on one of the results and we watched the video. Imogene kept glancing at me and then Lynnea. I think she was trying to find the resemblance. Good Luck.

"Dude, she is so your mom." Imogene said finally. I nodded. "Yeah that's kinda what happens. Women have babies and they grow up and look like each other." Imogene shrugged. "I don't look like my mom though. I have her eyes, but not her looks. Good thing too." I tried not to laugh.

"Joanne found out." I said suddenly. Imogene raised a brow. "What?" I sucked in my cheeks and puckered my lips to goof off. "The concert. They know I went, but it was worth it." Imogene's mouth dropped. "How? Did you tell them?!" I shook my head a little to fast. "NO! Gerard came over and I guess it slipped out. I'm grounded. 2 months." Imogene pondered this for awhile. "Wait he came over! Just him or everyone?" She was never one to think long. "Everyone..." She slapped my arm.

"Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I didn't think it was that important."

"Hell-O. Of course it is. Did you talk to him much? Did you talk to him at all?"

I nodded. "I said a few words. I talked to Mikey." Cheesy smiley face. "And..." She probed. "And...he was nice?" Another cheesy smiley face. She chuckled. "It's a start." A start. Yey! Imogene took the clicker thing and typed in 'teenagers by my chemical romance' and we watched the video. "Uhh, he is so fucking hot. Look Mikey!" Wow. We have no life.

...

With Imogene still at the computer, I traveled down to the rest of the house to the landline. I picked up the black phone and dialed Adrian's Cell. I let it ring and right as I was about to hang up, he answered. "Hello?" He answered. "Hey."

"Hey, Monet, what's up?"

"Nothing much. Hanging out at Imogene's. You?"

"Baby sitting."

"How's it going?"

"Fine. He hasn't choked on the horrible baby food yet, so I take that as a good thing."

"Yeah, cause you don't get paid as much if there dead."

Imogene called me back up. She wanted the sandwich I'd promised her. I let Adrian go and went to the kitchen. Turkey, cheese, on white. Turkey, Cheese, on white. With Mayonnaise.