The three of us walked along, chatting as we went. The conversation topic drifted a bit. "It just doesn't feel like it should already be time for school, you know?" Nick provided. Tom mock-booed him, and melodramatically said to me, "He said the s-word! We should wash his mouth out with soap!" I couldn't help but chuckle, and Nick rolled his eyes.
Next we came up to an argument on gaming. On that subject, well.. I had a Gamecube, Tom had a Playstation 2, and Nick had an X-Box, so we never really agreed on anything on that subject. We argued on which was best, never getting any closer to settling it, but we didn't really care, the reasons we came up with for why ours was best bordered on absurd most of the time.
After a short walk, we arrived at my house, which was just slightly smaller than Tom's and just slightly bigger than Nick's. The lawn was in a state of limbo between being well-trimmed and abandoned, but never really reaching either extreme. The only other difference noticeable was my yard's lack of a fence, and therefore any watching stains caused by Tom.
No, those were reserved for a large spot on the side of the house where it looked like someone had gotten a little crazy with the paint. Speaking of paint, Tom's house was white with black shutters and roof, while mine was some sort of beige with a rust-colored roof, and no shutters. That and the mailbox had our last name sloppily painted on it with abandon, which I though was a good idea at the age of five.
The house was symmetrical from the front and back, as there were large porches on both sides, with sloping roof above them, featuring a large window jutting out above each one. My room was on the back one. We stepped onto the porch and before I could stop him Tom reached out and rang the doorbell. I let out a grunt and have Tom a withering look. Ringing the doorbell at my house every time he arrived was a quirk he had. And Tom was full of quirks.
I opened the door, and yelled out, "I'm back, and guess who's here with me!" My mom peeked out from the den and welcomed them both heartily in all of two seconds, all to vanish again. She was a columnist for a rather well-read magazine, but somehow she always got stuck doing taxes for her department. My dad never lived with us, as my mom was with him for a short time, but he wasn't really a deadbeat. He didn't visit, but he paid child support and that was enough for me.
"Hey, Vickie, did you go to the store and, uh..." Tom asked, shifting position to where he had a view into the room. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Bags are on the dining table. Go pig out," she added, dismissively, caught in the act of crunching a number. Nick added a polite hello, and we meandered into the dining room, snagged a couple paper bags, and with the grabbing of an armload of Coke from the fridge, headed upstairs.
My room, like the lawn, was caught in an eternal battle between whether it should fall to one extreme or another. Unlike the lawn, one was winning perpetually, and it certainly wasn't cleanliness. Tom had claimed that my room was the messiest in the world, but that was before he'd seen Nick's, and that silenced him pretty quickly. Well, for me it did. Nick wasn't quite as lucky.
I had an air conditioner filling one of the windows to the side of my room, the one other was half hidden behind my computer's desk, and the third one, most prominent from outside was straddled by my bed. On the wall opposite the bed was the TV, and various associated appliances. Mostly forgotten in summer was my desk, which was under the air conditioner, and covered with mostly dusty piles remaining from the last school year, with a small area preserved by summer school as current.
Besides these features, my room showcased piles of, boxes of, and a general scattering of miscellanea. Notebooks, clothing, wrappers, even a bunch of floppy disks on the floor in the general area of the computer, where they fell a week earlier. Still, in all this chaos, there was some order. On a small shelf was my CD player, and my neatly sorted CDs. The piles on the desk were mostly deliberate and rather tidy.
I flopped down onto my favorite swivel chair that was currently at the computer and pushed off of its desk, sending me into the center of the room, perfectly positioned for a good seat in front of the TV, and for that matter, my Gamecube. "Grab a seat, boys, because I am now going to proceed in kicking your sorry asses," I proclaimed smugly. Tom snorted, and Nick was about to voice dissent when my mom opened the door. "Your friend John is here. Something about science notes. Is he staying?"
Tom didn't say anything, but I saw a look on his face. He knew John, and considered him to be a complete and total geek. I sympathized with John, and tried to remain on a friendly basis with him. He didn't talk much, but was a smart guy. He's volunteered to go to summer school, and we had had the same science class. He'd been gone a day the last week and had asked to borrow my notes.
"Oh yeahhh.. I forgot about that. I'm not sure if he'll be around, but I'll let you know?" I offered, and my mom seemed satisfied with that, and was quickly replaced with John stepping into the room. "Hey," he said, coolly. "Hi, dork!" Tom greeted with fake enthusiasm. John ignored Tom with a confidence alien to himself. I slid across the room, a little put off, but grabbed a notebook, one that was sans a layer of dust, and tossed it to him. It was sort of a test. John was normally rather clumsy.
John caught it in one hand. I blinked in surprise. Nick didn't know John well, and was waiting in the wings for him to leave. Tom didn't see anything different yet. Tom smirked, and let one loose, "Whatcha gonna do with it? Teach it to your goldfish? Other way around?" John turned to him, glared him down, and gave him the finger. Tom promptly went agape. John mirrored Tom's earlier smirk, and turned for the door.
"Hey! Uh.. want to stay for a while?" I offered. Tom gave me an incredulous look. Before he could object, John answered. "No. I've got a meeting of that club I joined, The Sharing. It's a cool place, you should join. Maybe Tom here would learn to stop being a jackass, too," he said, jerking a thumb at Tom when his name was mentioned. Tom's incredulous look was replaced with the original disbelief, and John headed out my door. John called over his shoulder, "I'll get it back to you at homeroom Monday," and with that was gone.
"Who was that, and what did they do with John?" Tom wondered aloud. "First thing first, Tom. You can close your mouth now," Nick cut in, with a chuckle as Tom complied. I nodded at them, "He was weird.. off." That really didn't do anything to settle the mood in room, but that didn't last long.
Tom reached into the bag and pulled out a tootsie roll and popped it into his mouth, without even removing the glum look from his face or the wrapper from the candy. Nick wrinkled his nose at Tom, "Eck, don't eat the wrappers, Tom." "But I didn't! See?" Tom proved his point by spitting it out, plus his tootsie roll with it. This set all three of us into a fit of laughter, complete with Tom re-enacting it, and it being renewed when he missed his hand and got brown gunk and paper on his knee.
The rest of the evening passed quickly, without anything much happening except everyone doing their respective victory dances whenever they beat the other two in one of various video games. Nick wasn't used to staying up very late, so by 12:30 he crashed. Tom didn't last as long as he thought, and awoke at 2:00.
I sat on my bed, and looked down on them, lying in makeshift beds on the floor, under the static light of the untuned TV. I clicked it off with the remote, and got took off my shirt, and got into bed, adding my shirt to a quickly growing pile beside my bed. I glanced at the clock, noting it was near 3:30, and turned off the nightstand lamp. Through my open window, I saw a small meteor dart across my narrow field of view, and closed my eyes, letting sleep come.
Next we came up to an argument on gaming. On that subject, well.. I had a Gamecube, Tom had a Playstation 2, and Nick had an X-Box, so we never really agreed on anything on that subject. We argued on which was best, never getting any closer to settling it, but we didn't really care, the reasons we came up with for why ours was best bordered on absurd most of the time.
After a short walk, we arrived at my house, which was just slightly smaller than Tom's and just slightly bigger than Nick's. The lawn was in a state of limbo between being well-trimmed and abandoned, but never really reaching either extreme. The only other difference noticeable was my yard's lack of a fence, and therefore any watching stains caused by Tom.
No, those were reserved for a large spot on the side of the house where it looked like someone had gotten a little crazy with the paint. Speaking of paint, Tom's house was white with black shutters and roof, while mine was some sort of beige with a rust-colored roof, and no shutters. That and the mailbox had our last name sloppily painted on it with abandon, which I though was a good idea at the age of five.
The house was symmetrical from the front and back, as there were large porches on both sides, with sloping roof above them, featuring a large window jutting out above each one. My room was on the back one. We stepped onto the porch and before I could stop him Tom reached out and rang the doorbell. I let out a grunt and have Tom a withering look. Ringing the doorbell at my house every time he arrived was a quirk he had. And Tom was full of quirks.
I opened the door, and yelled out, "I'm back, and guess who's here with me!" My mom peeked out from the den and welcomed them both heartily in all of two seconds, all to vanish again. She was a columnist for a rather well-read magazine, but somehow she always got stuck doing taxes for her department. My dad never lived with us, as my mom was with him for a short time, but he wasn't really a deadbeat. He didn't visit, but he paid child support and that was enough for me.
"Hey, Vickie, did you go to the store and, uh..." Tom asked, shifting position to where he had a view into the room. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Bags are on the dining table. Go pig out," she added, dismissively, caught in the act of crunching a number. Nick added a polite hello, and we meandered into the dining room, snagged a couple paper bags, and with the grabbing of an armload of Coke from the fridge, headed upstairs.
My room, like the lawn, was caught in an eternal battle between whether it should fall to one extreme or another. Unlike the lawn, one was winning perpetually, and it certainly wasn't cleanliness. Tom had claimed that my room was the messiest in the world, but that was before he'd seen Nick's, and that silenced him pretty quickly. Well, for me it did. Nick wasn't quite as lucky.
I had an air conditioner filling one of the windows to the side of my room, the one other was half hidden behind my computer's desk, and the third one, most prominent from outside was straddled by my bed. On the wall opposite the bed was the TV, and various associated appliances. Mostly forgotten in summer was my desk, which was under the air conditioner, and covered with mostly dusty piles remaining from the last school year, with a small area preserved by summer school as current.
Besides these features, my room showcased piles of, boxes of, and a general scattering of miscellanea. Notebooks, clothing, wrappers, even a bunch of floppy disks on the floor in the general area of the computer, where they fell a week earlier. Still, in all this chaos, there was some order. On a small shelf was my CD player, and my neatly sorted CDs. The piles on the desk were mostly deliberate and rather tidy.
I flopped down onto my favorite swivel chair that was currently at the computer and pushed off of its desk, sending me into the center of the room, perfectly positioned for a good seat in front of the TV, and for that matter, my Gamecube. "Grab a seat, boys, because I am now going to proceed in kicking your sorry asses," I proclaimed smugly. Tom snorted, and Nick was about to voice dissent when my mom opened the door. "Your friend John is here. Something about science notes. Is he staying?"
Tom didn't say anything, but I saw a look on his face. He knew John, and considered him to be a complete and total geek. I sympathized with John, and tried to remain on a friendly basis with him. He didn't talk much, but was a smart guy. He's volunteered to go to summer school, and we had had the same science class. He'd been gone a day the last week and had asked to borrow my notes.
"Oh yeahhh.. I forgot about that. I'm not sure if he'll be around, but I'll let you know?" I offered, and my mom seemed satisfied with that, and was quickly replaced with John stepping into the room. "Hey," he said, coolly. "Hi, dork!" Tom greeted with fake enthusiasm. John ignored Tom with a confidence alien to himself. I slid across the room, a little put off, but grabbed a notebook, one that was sans a layer of dust, and tossed it to him. It was sort of a test. John was normally rather clumsy.
John caught it in one hand. I blinked in surprise. Nick didn't know John well, and was waiting in the wings for him to leave. Tom didn't see anything different yet. Tom smirked, and let one loose, "Whatcha gonna do with it? Teach it to your goldfish? Other way around?" John turned to him, glared him down, and gave him the finger. Tom promptly went agape. John mirrored Tom's earlier smirk, and turned for the door.
"Hey! Uh.. want to stay for a while?" I offered. Tom gave me an incredulous look. Before he could object, John answered. "No. I've got a meeting of that club I joined, The Sharing. It's a cool place, you should join. Maybe Tom here would learn to stop being a jackass, too," he said, jerking a thumb at Tom when his name was mentioned. Tom's incredulous look was replaced with the original disbelief, and John headed out my door. John called over his shoulder, "I'll get it back to you at homeroom Monday," and with that was gone.
"Who was that, and what did they do with John?" Tom wondered aloud. "First thing first, Tom. You can close your mouth now," Nick cut in, with a chuckle as Tom complied. I nodded at them, "He was weird.. off." That really didn't do anything to settle the mood in room, but that didn't last long.
Tom reached into the bag and pulled out a tootsie roll and popped it into his mouth, without even removing the glum look from his face or the wrapper from the candy. Nick wrinkled his nose at Tom, "Eck, don't eat the wrappers, Tom." "But I didn't! See?" Tom proved his point by spitting it out, plus his tootsie roll with it. This set all three of us into a fit of laughter, complete with Tom re-enacting it, and it being renewed when he missed his hand and got brown gunk and paper on his knee.
The rest of the evening passed quickly, without anything much happening except everyone doing their respective victory dances whenever they beat the other two in one of various video games. Nick wasn't used to staying up very late, so by 12:30 he crashed. Tom didn't last as long as he thought, and awoke at 2:00.
I sat on my bed, and looked down on them, lying in makeshift beds on the floor, under the static light of the untuned TV. I clicked it off with the remote, and got took off my shirt, and got into bed, adding my shirt to a quickly growing pile beside my bed. I glanced at the clock, noting it was near 3:30, and turned off the nightstand lamp. Through my open window, I saw a small meteor dart across my narrow field of view, and closed my eyes, letting sleep come.