Status: Active
Just Swimmingly
Chapter 1
Jennifer
"Ewww, who's that?"
"Hahaha, what happened to her hair?"
"She probably got electrocuted."
"Suicide attempt?"
"I think so!"
I ignored the comments. I was used to them by now, as the harassment had been going on for two weeks. I put an ear bud in and got in my car. The song that was playing was You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring. Something that people around here, Big Sky, Montana, wouldn't be caught dead listening to, which was part of the reason I hated this place with a passion; so many people were too ignorant to even think of trying something new. Ironically, the song had a lot to do with said ignorant people. They were all stuck in a conceited little dance; the girls wore skanky clothes and wanted more and more of everything, the guys flexed and put others down all the time, and even the principal had a giant painting of himself hanging in one of the hallways. Thank God I could go home and get away from all of the ignorant, judgmental (emphasis on mental) people.
---
When I arrived in the unfamiliar driveway I was forced to call mine, I took a deep breath, bracing myself. Because I had just finished unpacking my bedroom last night, my mom would most likely ask me to do more now. Whatever. As long as she didn't get too pissed when she got my report card and my grades were too low for her. I opened my unfamiliar front door, and my mom immediately walked up to me.
"Jennifer, unpack the dishes and silverware, please." Called it.
"Sure, Mom." My littler brother Ricky was sitting on his ass playing Xbox. Typical; that smarmy little fuck got to relax from the minute he got home to the minute he left for school the next morning. I decided to attempt to drag him into unpacking.
"Why doesn't Ricky help me? We'll get it done a lot faster together," I told my mom. Ricky whipped his head around to glare at me like there was even the slightest possibility our mom would make him do something.
"Jennifer, Ricky is a growing boy. He needs his rest and relaxation so that he can be big and strong like Daddy. Isn't that right, honey?"
"Right, Mommy!" called back Ricky, right on cue. I rolled my eyes. He was probably the only fourteen year old that still called his mother "Mommy" and his father "Daddy". I walked by, smacking him upside the head.
"Bitch," he muttered. I smirked. He deserved it for being such an unbearable kiss ass.
"Says the teenager that still has the word 'Mommy' in his vocabulary." He rolled his eyes and turned back to his game. I sighed, thinking I might as well begin to unpack the dishes. I opened up the box and began putting dinner plates away. I smiled as I pulled out an old, but familiar plate. The only familiar thing I'd seen so far today. It used to be our plate for Santa's cookies, back when we all still believed in Santa. It had my hand print, Ricky's hand print, and our older brother, Ryan's, hand print. We were so young; I was four, Ricky was two, and Ryan was six. I placed my hand over each of the small prints and tucked it to the side of the china cabinet. It confused me how close we all used to be, and to this day we're practically three strangers calling each other siblings. Ryan and I used to be able to listen to music together and even sing duets to Blink-182 songs, but as we grew up, he began to look at me like I was the one who changed. He was the one that got involved in sports and forgot about his love for punk, rock, and most importantly, our relationship. Ricky and I used to play board games together, and I remember he was really good at those. I didn't care that I lost ninety percent of the time; I just loved spending time with him because he used to be so sweet. But then he discovered video games, became our parents' favorite, and started acting like he was better than Ryan and I. So I became a loner; isolated in my own family. It slowly became bearable over the years. I cracked a sad smile. It's sad how it's been years, isn't it? My phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked to see who it was, like I didn't already know. I still answered.
"What do you want, Hayden?" I asked shortly.
"Hello to you too, baby," he laughed back.
"Don't call me that," I told him icily.
"Awww, what's wrong? You don't like being my baby?"
"I'm not your baby, so fuck off."
"Jennifer, language!" called my mom from the laundry room.
"Yeah, but that was your choice." I could hear the grin in his voice.
"You're right, it was, because I told you to sleep with all those girls so I could break up with you and accuse you of cheating," I shot back sarcastically. He sighed.
"You could've just forgiven me, Jen. Ever heard of forgiveness? Or second chances?"
"Ever heard of a restraining order?" He didn't say anything. "Seriously, Hayden. This is the tenth time you've called me today, and this is the last time I'm going to tell you to stop."
"Jen-" I hung up. I didn't need to listen to any more of his half-assed excuses. I know what I saw, and I deserved better than him. Any girl did. The front door swung open.
"Julia, I'm home!" called my dad to my mom. Ryan walked in the door behind him, but my mom caught him halfway up the stairs.
"Ryan, you're helping your sister unpack the dishes and silverware." He didn't move. "Now."
"Mom, are you serious? I just got back from swimming for an hour and a half. I'm exhausted." I checked the clock. Was it already four thirty? "Just get Ricky to do it or something."
"Ricky is a growing boy. He needs his rest and relaxation so that he can be big and strong like Daddy, and how he contributes to the family is none of your business, young man. So get down there now." My dad gave him a look that said get down there or we'll have a foot-to-ass chat after dinner.
"Fuck," spat Ryan. He dragged himself over to the box of silverware.
"Language, Ryan," warned my dad. Ryan looked in the box I was unloading.
"Wow, you've have over an hour and this is all you've done?" I rolled my eyes.
"Sorry I'm not as fast as you, Fishy." Ryan narrowed his eyes at me for using his childhood nickname we gave him at the lake ten years ago.
"Well damn, Jen. You finished unpacking your room in two nights and you have way more stuff than any of us do." I felt my temper rise. How dare he suggest that I was the spoiled favorite? I had so much more stuff than everyone else because Hayden gave me every piece of merchandise him and his band Double You had created. Plus, he was friends with other bands I liked and got me their stuff for free. Also, I loved thrift stores and bought a lot of my furniture and clothing from various ones. It wasn't my fault I had connections and spent my money carefully. Ryan and I finished unpacking the dishes in silence. I hated it, but that was nothing new.
---
I sat in my room after dinner, listening to Ryan talk to some girl he liked on his phone while unpacking, listening to Ricky play video games and kiss our mother's ass, listening to my mom clean the dishes and believe every word that Ricky said, and listening to my father punch numbers in his calculator and sigh at the large numbers. I sighed as well. Everyone had someone but me. Ryan had the girl he was talking to, my mom had my dad, and even Ricky had the people on Xbox Live. I checked my phone in a dying hope that someone cared enough to attempt to communicate with me. I got a new text from Hayden. I shouldn't have opened it, but I did because misery loves its company.
From: Hayden Cell
You know I still love you no matter what Jen <3
For a second, I wanted to believe him. My phone buzzed again.
From: Hayden Cell
By the way, that doesn't count as a call.
"Ewww, who's that?"
"Hahaha, what happened to her hair?"
"She probably got electrocuted."
"Suicide attempt?"
"I think so!"
I ignored the comments. I was used to them by now, as the harassment had been going on for two weeks. I put an ear bud in and got in my car. The song that was playing was You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring. Something that people around here, Big Sky, Montana, wouldn't be caught dead listening to, which was part of the reason I hated this place with a passion; so many people were too ignorant to even think of trying something new. Ironically, the song had a lot to do with said ignorant people. They were all stuck in a conceited little dance; the girls wore skanky clothes and wanted more and more of everything, the guys flexed and put others down all the time, and even the principal had a giant painting of himself hanging in one of the hallways. Thank God I could go home and get away from all of the ignorant, judgmental (emphasis on mental) people.
---
When I arrived in the unfamiliar driveway I was forced to call mine, I took a deep breath, bracing myself. Because I had just finished unpacking my bedroom last night, my mom would most likely ask me to do more now. Whatever. As long as she didn't get too pissed when she got my report card and my grades were too low for her. I opened my unfamiliar front door, and my mom immediately walked up to me.
"Jennifer, unpack the dishes and silverware, please." Called it.
"Sure, Mom." My littler brother Ricky was sitting on his ass playing Xbox. Typical; that smarmy little fuck got to relax from the minute he got home to the minute he left for school the next morning. I decided to attempt to drag him into unpacking.
"Why doesn't Ricky help me? We'll get it done a lot faster together," I told my mom. Ricky whipped his head around to glare at me like there was even the slightest possibility our mom would make him do something.
"Jennifer, Ricky is a growing boy. He needs his rest and relaxation so that he can be big and strong like Daddy. Isn't that right, honey?"
"Right, Mommy!" called back Ricky, right on cue. I rolled my eyes. He was probably the only fourteen year old that still called his mother "Mommy" and his father "Daddy". I walked by, smacking him upside the head.
"Bitch," he muttered. I smirked. He deserved it for being such an unbearable kiss ass.
"Says the teenager that still has the word 'Mommy' in his vocabulary." He rolled his eyes and turned back to his game. I sighed, thinking I might as well begin to unpack the dishes. I opened up the box and began putting dinner plates away. I smiled as I pulled out an old, but familiar plate. The only familiar thing I'd seen so far today. It used to be our plate for Santa's cookies, back when we all still believed in Santa. It had my hand print, Ricky's hand print, and our older brother, Ryan's, hand print. We were so young; I was four, Ricky was two, and Ryan was six. I placed my hand over each of the small prints and tucked it to the side of the china cabinet. It confused me how close we all used to be, and to this day we're practically three strangers calling each other siblings. Ryan and I used to be able to listen to music together and even sing duets to Blink-182 songs, but as we grew up, he began to look at me like I was the one who changed. He was the one that got involved in sports and forgot about his love for punk, rock, and most importantly, our relationship. Ricky and I used to play board games together, and I remember he was really good at those. I didn't care that I lost ninety percent of the time; I just loved spending time with him because he used to be so sweet. But then he discovered video games, became our parents' favorite, and started acting like he was better than Ryan and I. So I became a loner; isolated in my own family. It slowly became bearable over the years. I cracked a sad smile. It's sad how it's been years, isn't it? My phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked to see who it was, like I didn't already know. I still answered.
"What do you want, Hayden?" I asked shortly.
"Hello to you too, baby," he laughed back.
"Don't call me that," I told him icily.
"Awww, what's wrong? You don't like being my baby?"
"I'm not your baby, so fuck off."
"Jennifer, language!" called my mom from the laundry room.
"Yeah, but that was your choice." I could hear the grin in his voice.
"You're right, it was, because I told you to sleep with all those girls so I could break up with you and accuse you of cheating," I shot back sarcastically. He sighed.
"You could've just forgiven me, Jen. Ever heard of forgiveness? Or second chances?"
"Ever heard of a restraining order?" He didn't say anything. "Seriously, Hayden. This is the tenth time you've called me today, and this is the last time I'm going to tell you to stop."
"Jen-" I hung up. I didn't need to listen to any more of his half-assed excuses. I know what I saw, and I deserved better than him. Any girl did. The front door swung open.
"Julia, I'm home!" called my dad to my mom. Ryan walked in the door behind him, but my mom caught him halfway up the stairs.
"Ryan, you're helping your sister unpack the dishes and silverware." He didn't move. "Now."
"Mom, are you serious? I just got back from swimming for an hour and a half. I'm exhausted." I checked the clock. Was it already four thirty? "Just get Ricky to do it or something."
"Ricky is a growing boy. He needs his rest and relaxation so that he can be big and strong like Daddy, and how he contributes to the family is none of your business, young man. So get down there now." My dad gave him a look that said get down there or we'll have a foot-to-ass chat after dinner.
"Fuck," spat Ryan. He dragged himself over to the box of silverware.
"Language, Ryan," warned my dad. Ryan looked in the box I was unloading.
"Wow, you've have over an hour and this is all you've done?" I rolled my eyes.
"Sorry I'm not as fast as you, Fishy." Ryan narrowed his eyes at me for using his childhood nickname we gave him at the lake ten years ago.
"Well damn, Jen. You finished unpacking your room in two nights and you have way more stuff than any of us do." I felt my temper rise. How dare he suggest that I was the spoiled favorite? I had so much more stuff than everyone else because Hayden gave me every piece of merchandise him and his band Double You had created. Plus, he was friends with other bands I liked and got me their stuff for free. Also, I loved thrift stores and bought a lot of my furniture and clothing from various ones. It wasn't my fault I had connections and spent my money carefully. Ryan and I finished unpacking the dishes in silence. I hated it, but that was nothing new.
---
I sat in my room after dinner, listening to Ryan talk to some girl he liked on his phone while unpacking, listening to Ricky play video games and kiss our mother's ass, listening to my mom clean the dishes and believe every word that Ricky said, and listening to my father punch numbers in his calculator and sigh at the large numbers. I sighed as well. Everyone had someone but me. Ryan had the girl he was talking to, my mom had my dad, and even Ricky had the people on Xbox Live. I checked my phone in a dying hope that someone cared enough to attempt to communicate with me. I got a new text from Hayden. I shouldn't have opened it, but I did because misery loves its company.
From: Hayden Cell
You know I still love you no matter what Jen <3
For a second, I wanted to believe him. My phone buzzed again.
From: Hayden Cell
By the way, that doesn't count as a call.
♠ ♠ ♠
Thanks for reading! I wrote this story about two years ago, found it yesterday and decided to publish it on here. Let me know what you think of Hayden and the Baskins :)