Motion Sickness

I stared at my ceiling and growled. The faintest of headaches was forming and my mind flashed back to the day before as I stood up and stretched. Who did Zoey Thompson think she was? She was getting on my nerves. She as in the bitch next door. Harsh? Fuck yes but I could care less.

I glanced over at the bathroom contemplating taking a shower before heading to school. I crossed that off my list of things to do because it was obviously raining outside. Plus my room felt strangely drafty for there to be water on my hair. The difference in temperature from the hallway to my room was ridiculously big. Think in terms of the ice pole and the Sahara Desert.

My room was freezing. Someone was going to lose a job today. I’m thinking it’s going to be whoever comes to fix the furnace or whoever decided to fuck up the furnace or whoever wasn’t fixing it right now when the only room that was that cold was mine.

Downstairs my mom was juggling between pouring coffee and shouting orders at my father to stop making business merger plans without her. This merger thing was supposed to be big. You know, like god big or something. Depending on whom she was speaking with on her blue tooth, though, even bigger than god. I rolled my eyes, grabbed the keys on the island counter and left the kitchen.

“Ryland.” My mother called out to me before I could make my escape. I opted to ignore and continued to walk. “Ryland, I’m not in the mood for this. Ryland!” I sighed inwardly.

“What?” I snapped.

“You’ll be home tonight.” Now normally, correct me if I’m wrong, that would be stated as a question. It wasn’t. “The dinner is tonight, and you know how important it is to your father and I. You will look decent, cover your tattoo and so help me god, Ryland, if your hair is not combed I will personally see to it that you will not see your little friends for a very long time. Understood?”

I scoffed. Was she being serious? I wouldn’t come to her stupid dinner. Would I tell her that and listen to her spaz? Fuck no.

“Yes ma’am.” I called out obnoxiously.

How my father put up with her bullshit, I will never understand. I speed walked out of there stepping into a fast downpour of water. I pulled my hoodie up quickly and hopped into my black bugatti galibier; the only thing from my parents that I didn’t despise.

Looky, Looky who it was. It was none other than the star of my nightmares last night and my own personal nightmare standing before me at that moment. Zoey walked out of her house just as I started my car. Her red hair was in her face and she was soaking wet. It was kind of hot in a ‘she had a really sexy body’ type way. She glanced over at me and the face she gave me almost made my day that much better. I pressed the button that would bring down the window just enough so that she would see my smirk.

“Still no car, angel? Need a ride?” I asked. She raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Oh don’t worry, the Escalade’s in the garage if you think this one won’t be able to handle the weight.” I added.

No words. Just the finger. “Suit yourself.” I stated.

I made sure to splash her as I left even though there was no possible way to make her wetter. I listened for her squeal; the sound of which was music to my ears. It made me smile.

I loved fucking with her. Could this be considered an obsession? Maybe I had OCD. Maybe this was my way of crying out for help? Ha! I cranked the music to max and made an entrance fit for a king cuz lets face it, I was king of that pathetic school.

Things were going perfect. People were staring enviously just as I liked them to. I was, for lack of better words, happy. Or at least sadistically content until I saw that someone had parked in my spot. Not only did the fucker park in my spot but he was sitting there as if to say ‘double fuck you’. I didn’t bother to find another open lot. I parked right there and got out fuming.

If I didn’t know better I’d say that the kid was new. I knew better. It was that bitch’s friend, Mark. Judging by the smirk on his smug ass face, he wanted to die.

I maintained as calm of an outer cover as I could manage and stared down at him. He wasn’t all that short, I was just that tall.

“Mind moving your car?” See? I can do civil.

Mark chuckled around a cig. I hope you fucking die of lung cancer. “I actually do. You know how that old saying goes, I don’t see a name.”

“Does there need to be? Because trust me if that’s what it takes for you to understand that the area is closed off, I’ll get that arranged. Now be a good little boy and move your car.”

“Get it arranged and the spot is all yours.” With that he walked away.

I’ll admit I was a little stunned. I was more pissed than anything but I stayed calm. I clenched my fists and almost threatened the boy who had the next nearest spot to the school to get the fuck out, before he realized he no longer had a car. He did.

Mark really was asking for a death sentence. He’d get one.