I've Got to Stop Calling Those 1-800 Numbers
Four ;;
"What? So, I can't do that? So, you can sell Britney Spears' boogers in a tissue but you can't sell a - no, I'm not a slave owner and I'm not white, but - hello? Hello?!"
To be blunt, I basically got shut down by Ebay. Hey, now I can add that to my list of stuff to do before I die. Hooray.
I hung up the phone and walked into the living room. William was sitting on my couch wrapped in a thick, dark blue blanket with smiling yellow popcorns, watching Degrassi: Next Generation. His head turned to me as his brown eyes were widened to the size of teacup saucers.
"You won't believe what just happened! Spencer's got cancer! Can you believe it? I can't believe it!" He sounded so hyper, as if the previous fifteen minutes that we were arguing had never happened.
"Yeah, that happened about a month ago. Get with the program," I replied as I sat criss-crossed on the Persian inspired-rug in front of my mom's coffee table. My mom doesn't even drink coffee.
"Oh," his face fell a bit, but then quickly brightened up, "Well at least now I can see the newer episodes. S'all good."
"What makes you think that you'll be watching the rest of the episodes?" I asked him as I folded my legs and brought them up to my chin. My back was turned to the television which was playing that Free Credit Report commercial ('F-r-e-e that spells free, credit report dot com baby! Saw their ads on my tv, thought about going but was too lazy. Now instead of looking fly and rolling phat, my legs are sticking to the vinyl and my posse's getting laughed at.')
"There's going to be a marathon tonight so -"
"But that doesn't mean I'm letting you stay here," I replied, cutting him off.
He looked at me. It bothered me so I turned to look back at the television. I felt his gaze bore into my back.
"You're not gonna let me stay?" He asked quietly.
I kept my gaze on the television.
To be blunt, I basically got shut down by Ebay. Hey, now I can add that to my list of stuff to do before I die. Hooray.
I hung up the phone and walked into the living room. William was sitting on my couch wrapped in a thick, dark blue blanket with smiling yellow popcorns, watching Degrassi: Next Generation. His head turned to me as his brown eyes were widened to the size of teacup saucers.
"You won't believe what just happened! Spencer's got cancer! Can you believe it? I can't believe it!" He sounded so hyper, as if the previous fifteen minutes that we were arguing had never happened.
"Yeah, that happened about a month ago. Get with the program," I replied as I sat criss-crossed on the Persian inspired-rug in front of my mom's coffee table. My mom doesn't even drink coffee.
"Oh," his face fell a bit, but then quickly brightened up, "Well at least now I can see the newer episodes. S'all good."
"What makes you think that you'll be watching the rest of the episodes?" I asked him as I folded my legs and brought them up to my chin. My back was turned to the television which was playing that Free Credit Report commercial ('F-r-e-e that spells free, credit report dot com baby! Saw their ads on my tv, thought about going but was too lazy. Now instead of looking fly and rolling phat, my legs are sticking to the vinyl and my posse's getting laughed at.')
"There's going to be a marathon tonight so -"
"But that doesn't mean I'm letting you stay here," I replied, cutting him off.
He looked at me. It bothered me so I turned to look back at the television. I felt his gaze bore into my back.
"You're not gonna let me stay?" He asked quietly.
I kept my gaze on the television.
♠ ♠ ♠
Not much, so it's just a filler :)And thank you fueledbybeckett,
for calling yourself out there. Major respect.