Status: Going through the editing process.
Closer
Don't Judge A Book By It's Home Life
Matt
This is fun. Messing with Avery totally entertains me. It’s because she’s so good and innocent. I think it’s hilarious to see her embarrassed. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head. I could ask her to sweetheart dance! That isn’t like me, but i’d like to get her alone.
I pull out a piece of paper and write down: I’m sorry. Go to the sweetheart dance with me? I also wrote down my number, in case she says yes. She’ll ignore me if it’s a no. Trust me, I’ve had plenty of experience. I discretely slip it into her bag without her noticing.
********
The rest of my classes flew by. I’m not complaining. I’m ready to get out of here. I hopped in my piece of shit car and my favorite song ‘Down The Road’ by C2C blasted through my speakers. I slipped on my sunglasses. I pulled out of the parking lot and took the back way home.
Once I got home, I threw my bag on my bed and flew to the kitchen to make a sandwich. My mom was still at work. Dad and I are lucky she’s a professor, because if she wasn’t, we wouldn’t be living in Westwood Creek, the middle class neighborhood.
My dad sits on his ass all day long, and drinks his common sense away. “M-matt.” My dad hiccuped from his room. “What?” I ask, aggravated. I heard a slur of words and decided I shouldn’t ignore him.
I walked into his room, my sandwich in one hand, my coke in the other. “What did you say?” I questioned him through gritted teeth. “When is. Mom coming... hum?” His eyes were bloodshot. I look at him disgusted. “At six, like she does everyday.” I answer.
He sat up in bed and pointed his finger at me. “Don’t you dare cop an’ attitude with me son!” He bellowed. I nodded, “‘Kay dad. Sorry.” I walked out and stormed to my room. I shut my door and locked it. I hate my dad. I know your not supposed to hate anyone, but his conscious is out the window.
I set down my sandwich and coke, then dug out my homework. I started working right away, the hours passing quickly.
This is fun. Messing with Avery totally entertains me. It’s because she’s so good and innocent. I think it’s hilarious to see her embarrassed. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head. I could ask her to sweetheart dance! That isn’t like me, but i’d like to get her alone.
I pull out a piece of paper and write down: I’m sorry. Go to the sweetheart dance with me? I also wrote down my number, in case she says yes. She’ll ignore me if it’s a no. Trust me, I’ve had plenty of experience. I discretely slip it into her bag without her noticing.
********
The rest of my classes flew by. I’m not complaining. I’m ready to get out of here. I hopped in my piece of shit car and my favorite song ‘Down The Road’ by C2C blasted through my speakers. I slipped on my sunglasses. I pulled out of the parking lot and took the back way home.
Once I got home, I threw my bag on my bed and flew to the kitchen to make a sandwich. My mom was still at work. Dad and I are lucky she’s a professor, because if she wasn’t, we wouldn’t be living in Westwood Creek, the middle class neighborhood.
My dad sits on his ass all day long, and drinks his common sense away. “M-matt.” My dad hiccuped from his room. “What?” I ask, aggravated. I heard a slur of words and decided I shouldn’t ignore him.
I walked into his room, my sandwich in one hand, my coke in the other. “What did you say?” I questioned him through gritted teeth. “When is. Mom coming... hum?” His eyes were bloodshot. I look at him disgusted. “At six, like she does everyday.” I answer.
He sat up in bed and pointed his finger at me. “Don’t you dare cop an’ attitude with me son!” He bellowed. I nodded, “‘Kay dad. Sorry.” I walked out and stormed to my room. I shut my door and locked it. I hate my dad. I know your not supposed to hate anyone, but his conscious is out the window.
I set down my sandwich and coke, then dug out my homework. I started working right away, the hours passing quickly.