Hot Kiss!

"Pfft," I blow a piece of hair from my face and sigh, holding my head on my hands. I feel my elbows skid off my knees slowly and I don't even bother to stop my head hitting my knees. Ugh, goddamnit. A black peugeot pulls up and I stare at it a few seconds.

"I'm not getting in your damn car peado!" I shout and grab my bag, grinning.

"Fuck you bitch, I'll kick your ass!"

"Bring it pork chop!" I shout and run up to the car, jumping in. I smile at my friend Dana as she pulls out my high school car park.

"Hello my beautiful highlighter!" Dana chirps and I smile, ruffling my bright green hair slightly.

"What can I say? I love to bright up your life, like that amazing ass that makes me smile," I say and she winks.

"This ass only for you,"

"Hells yes," I say and we laugh lightly. I open the window and a warm breeze flutters my hair.

"By the way your 'rents are home and there's a moving van,"

"What?"

"Saw it on my way out from work,"

"Shit. Back to the old hag Mag's then. How long do you think for this time?"

"Fuck knows amigo, just stay you and I'll keep coming for you,"

"Dana you're so romantic!"

"Hey signor buttwipe, I have to keep coming remember? You have no friends and the guilt would kill me,"

Thanks Dana." I stare at her from the corner of my eye and we end up laughing.

"I'm getting sick of this shit Dana,"

"Hey little ducky I know but your 'rents gotta travel to work,"

"Yes but in their quest for more money, they are totally killing my social life. I mean it's not like I'll kill myself at home alone,"

"Dude, remember the house party?"

"What house party?"

"The house party where you were gonna get laid by that guy from Gilman and your mum and dad walked in?"

"Oh yeah... Dude I thought my mum was gonna hang my body outside the house to deter pirates,"

"Your dad was even worse remember?"

"Shit yeah," I say laughing hard as we pull outside my busy house. I sigh grabbing my bag, getting out.

"Later Dana,"

"Hey! Where's kisses for mommy?"

"Go fuck yourself Dana,"

"Only if you help me," We grin at each other and I run off into the house.

"Mom! Dad!" I shout coming through the door. I dump my bag at the bottom of the stairs and my shoes scuff on the carpet as I go through to the living room.

"Hey mom what's going on?" I ask, lounging on the couch.

"Your father and I have some business to attend to in England, Granny Ellen isn't feeling very well so your father and I are going to look after her,"

"I still say you should leave her there to die,"

"Juliette!"

"Mom not the Juliette thing again. It's Licks, ok?"

"I gave you life, I named you Juliette, I am going to call you Juliette,"

"And I will be your squishy yeah, yeah,"

"Juliette stop beng so rude. Auntie Margaret isn't feeling well so I've arranged for you to stay at a good friend of the family,"

"Mom, you and dad have no friends. The people you call friends are the one's that work for you and feel like they have to do it,"

"Juliette just behave. Her name is Ollie Armstrong and she'll be here in a few minutes to pick you up so go get your things ready,"

I sigh, pushing myself off the couch and jogging upstairs. I put in my Operation Ivy tape and sing along while I pack my beat up duffel bag. I kick off my converses and stuff those in, pulling on my 14 hole Dr Martens. I pull off my tartan skirt and pull on a pair of denim shorts, torn to bits. I throw of my shirt and stuff that in too, pulling on my white misfits tee. I hear a car pull up outside and I run up to my mom, getting $20 for the next two weeks. Yeah they might be rich but I'm not. I work for a living at Gilman Street, the local punk scene club.

"Later!" I shout and leave, grabbing my leather jacket. It's fucking sunny as hell today but I don't want it to rain in a few days and have no jacket. I hop in the car and turn smiling as a tired looking woman grins at me.

"Hey! You must be Juliette, I'm Ollie! I work for your mom and dad,"

"Yeah, just call me Licks, no one calls me Juliette unless they're family. God I hate the name Juliette," I grumble and she laughs.

"No problem. Now I have 6 kids but only one of them lives with me now, his name is Billie Joe but you'll meet him in about 20 minutes... Uh, oh! His friend Mike lives in the basement but he's a big softie. Oh and sorry but you and Billie Joe have to share his room but don't worry there's two beds in there anyway,"

"Thanks Mrs Armstrong, I really appreciate this,"

"No problem," she says happily and I smile at her as she grins. She turns her attention to the road and I stare out the window, the sun beating down hard. Not long 'til summer break. Next week. Work at Gilman will be murder with all the brats trying their luck at getting beer.

"Mrs A, I got work tonight at 7pm, I'll get back about 2am if that's alright?"

"Yeah sure, but where do you work so late?"

"I work down at this club, Gilman?"

"Oh my son goes there with his friends,"

"Strange, can't say I recognize his name, I know most of the regulars,"

"Oh I wouldn't worry about it, you might know him when you see him,"

"Sure Mrs A," I say and smile. We pull up outside the Armstrong residence and I get out grabbing my duffel. I spy Mrs A struggling with shopping and I run over, taking a load of the bags.

"Licks give those back, you're supposed to be a guest here,"

"No chance Mrs A, by the time my parents get back, trust me I'll have over stayed my welcome. So I can at least earn my keep and pay $30 towards the house every week,"

"That's far too expensive for a weekly payment!"

"I'm 17 years old, what the hell am I gonna spend it on apart from crap? Plus Gilman pays pretty well so it's not much really,"

"I appreciate it Licks,"

"No problem, you know if you're not comfortable calling me Licks, call me Lewis,"

"Thanks Lewis, that's a bit better for someone my age,"

"Your age? You're too young to be saying that,"

"Thanks Lewis, you can come back anytime," She laughs

"Thanks Mrs A,"

"I have to leave for work when we get in but Billie Joe will make sure you've got everything,"

"Thanks Mrs A." I smile and she opens the door, a riot of noise coming from the basement.