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My Sister Got Me A Boyfriend For Christmas?
HOW IT BEGAN.
Well, hello there. I’m Ashley. I was born with black hair, which is currently long and colored with bright pink streaks. I have brown eyes. Sometimes. They can be green, depending on my mood. (Which changes a lot, as I face a life of rage-blackouts.) I’m sixteen years of age, and I’m home schooled. Believe it or not, I do have a life. Most people, like my family, think that us home schooled kids lose everything once we leave public school. SO not true. Sure, I did find out who my real friends are, and no, I don’t have as many friends as I used to, and no; I don’t go out as often as I’d like to. But I do hang out with the most amazing people ever on the weekends. They just so happen to be my true friends. Just try telling my mom that.
Anyways, enough about me! Let’s start at the beginning of this whole thing.
_______
“Ashley, wake up.”
“Go away,” I mumbled.
“Ash,” my mother continued to shake my body.
I groaned, sitting up as I shot her a glare. “What, woman? What do you want?!”
“I want you to get your lazy butt outta bed.”
“Why?”
“’Cause I’m leaving today and someone has to take care of the house.”
“Isn’t that why I have an older sister?”
“Yeah, an older sister who acts like she’s your age. Out of bed, Ashley. Now.”
I was practically burning holes in my mother’s head as she left my room.
_
Let’s talk about my sister for a moment, shall we? She doesn’t exactly play her role as the older sister. I do. My sister, Amanda, likes to party. A lot. And when she invites her friends over, things never go well. I have to take care of them, oh the joy, and take care of the house as well. My mom knows this, too. It just doesn’t phase her. So long as the house doesn’t get burned down, and someone’s in control, she’s happy. I, on the other hand, am not. Do you have any idea how hard it is to take care of a bunch of drunk adults? Yes, you heard correctly, I said adults. My sister, along with most of her friends, are twenty; going on seventeen. What fun.
_
After spending the next ten minutes lazily sitting on my bed and complaining to myself, I finally got up. I made my way into the bathroom and did what most girls do when they wake up: I showered, brushed my head, put on clean clothes; and made my way downstairs.
“I love you guys,” my mom called, bailing on us for yet another trip to the beach. “Stay out of trouble!”
Us? Stay out of trouble? Please.
“Whatcha doin’ today?” I asked Amanda, sitting myself down on a barstool.
“I don’t know yet.” She smiled. “Diana’s probably coming over.”
“Greeeat.”
“You and Diana are friends, yeah?”
“Yeah, but when she comes over to hang out with you, I get to play mommy.”
“Oh, shut your face. We’re not even going to be here tonight.”
“But you just said she was coming over.. ?”
“Yeah. Then we’re leaving for Aimie’s party.”
Rolling my eyes, I pulled my body off the barstool. Dragging my feet to the pantry, I pulled out a Pop-Tart. “You have fun with that.” I shot her an emotionless smile as I began making my way out of the kitchen.
“Don’t worry,” she called as I was climbing the stairs. “We’re not leaving you alone!”
I ignored her, of course. Most of what my sister said, she said to simply annoy me. It was like sibling rivalry, only not to the extreme. We were close, me and Amanda, but there was still a four year age difference. It was my job to annoy her, and her job to pick on me. I sat down on my bed, pondering what she could have meant.
“We’re not leaving you here alone,” I mumbled to myself. I picked at my breakfast and glanced around my room a few times. And a few more times. And then once more. “Shit.”
I pulled myself from the bed, tossing the Pop-Tart wrapper in the trash, and pulled my bedroom door open. Both my sister and I were placed on the top floor of our home. Mom said it just made life easier for her if we were on a different floor than her. I stopped in front of my sisters door and pounded on it loudly.
“What?”
“What did you mean you aren’t leaving me here alone?”
She opened the door with a smirk on her face. “Don’t worry about it, but be nice to him when he gets here, okay?”
I blinked a few times. “Him?”
She shut the door in my face, purposely leaving in my train of thoughts.
Him?
Who is this ‘him’ that she speaks of?
Oh, she had a plan up her sleeve, and a big one at that.
She was going to leave me alone with a strage him, who she expected me to be nice to.
You have got to be kidding me.
Anyways, enough about me! Let’s start at the beginning of this whole thing.
_______
“Ashley, wake up.”
“Go away,” I mumbled.
“Ash,” my mother continued to shake my body.
I groaned, sitting up as I shot her a glare. “What, woman? What do you want?!”
“I want you to get your lazy butt outta bed.”
“Why?”
“’Cause I’m leaving today and someone has to take care of the house.”
“Isn’t that why I have an older sister?”
“Yeah, an older sister who acts like she’s your age. Out of bed, Ashley. Now.”
I was practically burning holes in my mother’s head as she left my room.
_
Let’s talk about my sister for a moment, shall we? She doesn’t exactly play her role as the older sister. I do. My sister, Amanda, likes to party. A lot. And when she invites her friends over, things never go well. I have to take care of them, oh the joy, and take care of the house as well. My mom knows this, too. It just doesn’t phase her. So long as the house doesn’t get burned down, and someone’s in control, she’s happy. I, on the other hand, am not. Do you have any idea how hard it is to take care of a bunch of drunk adults? Yes, you heard correctly, I said adults. My sister, along with most of her friends, are twenty; going on seventeen. What fun.
_
After spending the next ten minutes lazily sitting on my bed and complaining to myself, I finally got up. I made my way into the bathroom and did what most girls do when they wake up: I showered, brushed my head, put on clean clothes; and made my way downstairs.
“I love you guys,” my mom called, bailing on us for yet another trip to the beach. “Stay out of trouble!”
Us? Stay out of trouble? Please.
“Whatcha doin’ today?” I asked Amanda, sitting myself down on a barstool.
“I don’t know yet.” She smiled. “Diana’s probably coming over.”
“Greeeat.”
“You and Diana are friends, yeah?”
“Yeah, but when she comes over to hang out with you, I get to play mommy.”
“Oh, shut your face. We’re not even going to be here tonight.”
“But you just said she was coming over.. ?”
“Yeah. Then we’re leaving for Aimie’s party.”
Rolling my eyes, I pulled my body off the barstool. Dragging my feet to the pantry, I pulled out a Pop-Tart. “You have fun with that.” I shot her an emotionless smile as I began making my way out of the kitchen.
“Don’t worry,” she called as I was climbing the stairs. “We’re not leaving you alone!”
I ignored her, of course. Most of what my sister said, she said to simply annoy me. It was like sibling rivalry, only not to the extreme. We were close, me and Amanda, but there was still a four year age difference. It was my job to annoy her, and her job to pick on me. I sat down on my bed, pondering what she could have meant.
“We’re not leaving you here alone,” I mumbled to myself. I picked at my breakfast and glanced around my room a few times. And a few more times. And then once more. “Shit.”
I pulled myself from the bed, tossing the Pop-Tart wrapper in the trash, and pulled my bedroom door open. Both my sister and I were placed on the top floor of our home. Mom said it just made life easier for her if we were on a different floor than her. I stopped in front of my sisters door and pounded on it loudly.
“What?”
“What did you mean you aren’t leaving me here alone?”
She opened the door with a smirk on her face. “Don’t worry about it, but be nice to him when he gets here, okay?”
I blinked a few times. “Him?”
She shut the door in my face, purposely leaving in my train of thoughts.
Him?
Who is this ‘him’ that she speaks of?
Oh, she had a plan up her sleeve, and a big one at that.
She was going to leave me alone with a strage him, who she expected me to be nice to.
You have got to be kidding me.
♠ ♠ ♠
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