Let's Burn Our Dreams Into the Skyline
Soap.
We all trampled through the house, not bothering to take off our muddy sneakers or even wipe them on the mat outside, eager to wash away the icky feeling of egg goop on skin.
“Hehehhe!” Gabe was laughing crazily, pressing the soap dispenser over and over again, “Bubbles!”
“Gabe, do not waste my hand soap. My mother will throw a shit fit if she comes home from work tonight to find all of it’s gone.”
“Then let the shit fit commence!” Gabe announced cheerfully, twisting off the cap of soap and dumping the entire container of foamy soapiness into the over-filled sink.
“Gabe,” I whined, taken-aback by the sudsy mess that was now mine and Pete’s bathroom, “How stupid are you? Did you not realize that adding liquid soap to an over-flowing sink would ‘cause even more overflowing?!”
He stays silent for a minute, contemplating this thought, “Nope. Never crossed my mind.”
I roll my eyes, “How did I not expect that?”
“Well, if were here, in all this soap… we might as well like… wash our hands.” Ryland suggests airily.
“Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!” Gabe yells, “We can have a bubble fight! Yes? Yes?”
“No? No?” Max says bluntly, shaking her head quickly, “I do not want to be covered in soap.”
“Then you better think fast!” Gabe cackles, scooping up a handful of the subs into the palm of his hand and tossing them at Max. Soon enough, we were all engaged in a “bubble fight”, courtesy of Gabe, as usual.
“What the fuck is going on in here?!” Pete demands, flinging open his door only to be met by handful after handful of soap. Pete’s expression changes from perplexed, to shaken, to fuming all in about 3 seconds. And naturally, I’m the one that he seeks revenge on.
“Kids, what are you doing?” The stairs squeak. Mother is coming upstairs. And what a lovely sight to bestow your eyes on, hey?
“I forgot my wallet and …. Oh god, what the hell did you guys do?”
“Soap fight,” Gabe replies timidly, smiling.
“Look-” I start, but I am cut off by a simple wave of the hand.
“Listen, Linnea, I really don’t want to know. And Pete, you are still grounded.”
The door slams downstairs. The house shakes. Mother is gone once again.
“So, who’s up for getting high?” Gabe suggests rather loudly.
Everyone raises their hand bar Max.
“Bitch, please.” Gabe puts his hand in her face before she can explain herself.
“No, no. Shouldn’t we wait for Peter?”
“Fuck Peter.” Everyone choruses bluntly.
“Hehehhe!” Gabe was laughing crazily, pressing the soap dispenser over and over again, “Bubbles!”
“Gabe, do not waste my hand soap. My mother will throw a shit fit if she comes home from work tonight to find all of it’s gone.”
“Then let the shit fit commence!” Gabe announced cheerfully, twisting off the cap of soap and dumping the entire container of foamy soapiness into the over-filled sink.
“Gabe,” I whined, taken-aback by the sudsy mess that was now mine and Pete’s bathroom, “How stupid are you? Did you not realize that adding liquid soap to an over-flowing sink would ‘cause even more overflowing?!”
He stays silent for a minute, contemplating this thought, “Nope. Never crossed my mind.”
I roll my eyes, “How did I not expect that?”
“Well, if were here, in all this soap… we might as well like… wash our hands.” Ryland suggests airily.
“Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!” Gabe yells, “We can have a bubble fight! Yes? Yes?”
“No? No?” Max says bluntly, shaking her head quickly, “I do not want to be covered in soap.”
“Then you better think fast!” Gabe cackles, scooping up a handful of the subs into the palm of his hand and tossing them at Max. Soon enough, we were all engaged in a “bubble fight”, courtesy of Gabe, as usual.
“What the fuck is going on in here?!” Pete demands, flinging open his door only to be met by handful after handful of soap. Pete’s expression changes from perplexed, to shaken, to fuming all in about 3 seconds. And naturally, I’m the one that he seeks revenge on.
“Kids, what are you doing?” The stairs squeak. Mother is coming upstairs. And what a lovely sight to bestow your eyes on, hey?
“I forgot my wallet and …. Oh god, what the hell did you guys do?”
“Soap fight,” Gabe replies timidly, smiling.
“Look-” I start, but I am cut off by a simple wave of the hand.
“Listen, Linnea, I really don’t want to know. And Pete, you are still grounded.”
The door slams downstairs. The house shakes. Mother is gone once again.
“So, who’s up for getting high?” Gabe suggests rather loudly.
Everyone raises their hand bar Max.
“Bitch, please.” Gabe puts his hand in her face before she can explain herself.
“No, no. Shouldn’t we wait for Peter?”
“Fuck Peter.” Everyone choruses bluntly.