The Teenage Mind of a Geller-Willick-Bunch.

A/N:

Ok, so I read a few Friends fan fictions and wanted to write my own. This will be set in Ben's point of view when he is seventeen. It reflects Ben's confused and addled mind as he comes to some major choices in his life.

By the way, I am English; so if I get some of the American lingo wrong, please correct me. Though I am going to try and rope in my American friend to help me.

All the best

Nic x

-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Chapter 1: My Family.

My family is so weird. In all, I have one father, a half-sister and three mothers. One is my biological mother's lesbian life partner and the other is my father's newest wife.

Growing up with Mom and Susan was great, and I don't mean that sarcastically. The only trouble I ever had was with the kids at school, who picked on me because my moms were 'lesbens". Still, I held my head high, as I was taught to do, and didn't really care what other people thought. I had three parents and I considered myself lucky.

As for my feelings about my dad, well that's another story. I love him, sure, but sometimes I think he must be either completely stupid or ridiculously insane. For the longest time, he kept getting married and divorced, married and divorced. I remember the first wife (after my mom, of course), as if I had met her just yesterday. Her name was Emily, and she was a stuck-up British bitch who didn't trust my Dad as far as she could have thrown him. Even though I was only three at the time, I still remember her, and how much I disliked her.

"Ben, Mama says you have to come downstairs for breakfast now," said a sweet voice from outside my door.

That was Emma, my little sister. I really do love her, so I don't hate all of my family, I guess. I usually try to be the best older brother she could ask for, but by God, she gets on my freakin' nerves sometimes!

Anyway, back to my Dad. His next wife was Rachel, Emma's mom, and the one who he finally re-married a couple of months ago. Apparently, the first time they 'tied the knot,' they were in Las Vegas and completely shit-faced. I still don't really understand how or why they divorced the first time. After all, Rachel is great looking, and, according to my Aunt Phoebe and Uncle Joey (I called them that when I was little, and for some reason it's kind of stuck now), my Dad and Rachel had been in love since I was born or something like that. As I said, my family is weird.

I had been lying on my bed for quite some time now, thinking about my family. It was Monday morning and I was really supposed to be getting ready for school, but for some reason, I just really did not want to get out of bed.

As I lay there, staring at the walls, I realized how much I liked my bedroom. It was covered in my favourite things, from my brand-new electric guitar to Samson, my stuffed toy dog from my baby days. My room was a cool shade of green and the walls were covered in posters of my favourite bands and pictures, most of which were of my friends from school.

There was one picture, though, which wasn't of my friends, and which I always looked at, every day. My Aunt Monica gave it to me; she said it reminded her of good times and she hoped it would do the same for me. It was of the day I was born, and in a brief moment of sentimentality, I had framed it and put it on my bedside table. I could see my dad and Susan around my mom, smiling at an ugly looking thing in her arms. Behind the smiling new parents were my dad's friends. I grinned as I looked at them, so young, so immature, and it surprised me to realize that when the picture was taken they were only about five years older then I am now.

Aunt Monica is beaming at her older brother with pride; Uncle Chandler (who wasn't actually married to Monica at the time, and wasn't even going out with her) was behind my dad, sticking two of his fingers up so it looked as if my dad had two very skinny bunny ears. Uncle Joey was doing his headshot pose at the camera, and not really paying attention to what was happening around him. Aunt Phoebe and Rachel were smiling broadly.

"Ben, come on, breakfast is ready!" called my new stepmother's voice from downstairs.

Rachel? Cooking? And the fire alarm hadn't gone off? Now that was unusual!

Hearing Rachel's voice made me start thinking about my three moms again, and with that, my relatively good mood disappeared. Why did I have to move from my mom and Susan's apartment to my dad's new house on Long Island? None of my parents or even my aunts or uncles would explain it to me. Whenever I tried to ask anyone they simply replied 'Not now Ben,' or, as Joey did last week, 'Whoa, is that Santa out the window?'

"Ben! Get out of bed NOW!" I heard my dad yell.

OK, I knew had to get up then, so I did. I threw on my favourite worn-in jeans, pulled on a black t-shirt, and glanced quickly at myself in the mirror. My blond hair was lying untidily on my head, but I did nothing to it. I kind of like the 'I just got out of bed' look.

Not to be arrogant, but I think I'm pretty good-looking. I have a great body thanks to sports and I'm naturally well built. So why couldn't I get a girlfriend?

I ran down the stairs and a lovely aroma surrounded me. Yum pancakes. I knew immediately that Rachel hadn't done the cooking, and even my dad doesn't have the talent to make the kitchen smell that good. Glancing around, I saw a stroller by the front door and I knew that I had been right; neither one of my parents had done the cooking. Aunt Monica and Uncle were visiting. I opened the door into the kitchen and

the delicious scent wafted by my nose once more.

"Morning everyone," I greeted, somewhat cheerfully. I scanned the room. My dad was sitting at the table with a glass of orange juice in his hand, reading the New York Times. Rachel was sipping coffee out of her regular mug and going over some papers that I assumed had to do with her fashion line. Yes, Rachel had her own fashion line now under her maiden name, Rachel Greene. I heard girls at school every day, fussing over the new fall catalogue. I saw my aunt over by the stove and my uncle was talking to my dad, though Dad looked as if he was sleeping with his eyes open.

"Morning, Ben!" Emma squealed excitedly, her face shining as it always does. "Aunt Monica is cooking pancakes!"

"Is she really?" I said, and out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Rachel smile and eye my dad, who gave her a little grin in return. Monica turned around and placed the pancakes onto a plate on the table.

"I am indeed, Ben," Monica replied, carrying on with the game, "Do you think you might want some?"

I smiled mischievously, and was about to speak, but Chandler got there first.

"Is the grass green?" he asked.

Dad laughed heartily as I took a pancake and poured some honey over it and did the same for Emma, who was sitting next to me, waiting eagerly for her breakfast.

"Ben, don't you have school to be getting to?" Rachel asked, mother-like.

I looked at my watch. Damn it! It was already seven fifteen; there was no way I'd get there in time. I grabbed my backpack and ran out of there without even finishing my delicious pancake, which I knew I was going to regret later.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-

A/N: How was that? Like it? Hate it? Wish to make

changes? Criticism? Questions? Well…any type of review

is welcome XD.