I threw down my backpack and groaned loudly. Today was the worst day of my life! Seventh grade was horrible–and I'd only spent one day there. I slumped into a chair at our small island at the kitchen. Looking around I noticed the unwashed dishes and the unvacuumed floor. I guess that's just what happens when you've got a single mother working a full-time job. Things at home justdon't get done.
I had my head buried in my arms on the table when my 9 year old brother Matt walked in.
"Hey, Matt," I said quietly.
"Hey, Liz," he responded, taking a sip of his root beer. "What's up?"
"Lots of stuff," I sighed. "Like" I wanted to gush about everything–my crush, my mean teachers, the schoolwork–because I usually did to him, but I didn't want to confuse him. I knew already, from what he had told me, that his life was pretty crazy. "Lots of stuff."
"Well, if you need me, I'll be in my room." He smiled faintly at me before heading up the stairs.
That's what I loved about Matt. I couldn't have asked for a nicer brother. We helped each other out, which I've come to learn is extremely rare between siblings our ages. We genuinely liked each other and it helped during these hard times. He just offered me support my friends couldn't. I don't see how such a nice kid could ever be offspring of
"I'm home!" my mother screeched from the front doorway. "Who's going to help me with these damn groceries?" I got up quickly and rushed to grab the bags out of her hands as Matt flew down the steps to do the same. She threw a cigarette butt out the door.
Matt and I brought the grocery bags to the kitchen table and started unpacking the few things that were in them. After all, if we didn't do this, it would never get done. God knows my mom would rather let all the food rot and spoil and stink up the kitchen before she ever picked up a finger to help.
Just as suspected, our mother flopped down onto the recliner and let out a sigh, like she was tired. Like she had actually done something that took some effort.
But she never did.
Here's the deal about my mom: I don't dislike her, but she's not exactly "#1 Mom" material. She's lazy, she never cooks or cleans, she's rude, and she smokes. Matt and I practically run the household–more so me, though, since I'm older. But I don't really think we could report my mom to the government just because she was lazy. She wasn't abusive, like, she didn't hit us, or anything, and she did buy food and clothing for us. Regardless of the way she treated us, I still loved her.
I guess I should mention my dad, too. His name was Robert, but most people called him Bob. He was really nice, and he took care of us even when my mom wouldn't. He used to tuck me in and sing me to sleep. He had a really good voice. He died four years ago from lung cancerprobably from all that second-hand smoke.
You could really compare my mom to a goldfish. When most mothers get home, things get all loud and busy inside the house, like when a dog when come into a house. But my mom was like one of those silent pets, the ones you barely notice until someone reminds me you they're there. Kind of a stupid comparison, but I hope you get what I mean.
Luckily, I didn't have much homework today. Only to cover a couple textbooks with brown paper (a skill I mastered after my dad died) and read a few pages. I looked at my watch. It was 5:15. He should be home by now,' I thought happily.
I sprinted up the stairs to my room. When I opened the door, I was greeted by the familiar sight of my plain white walls and sparse decorations. Boring though it was, it was homey and comfortingthe way I liked it. I skipped over to my phone and picked it up, and dialed his number.
It only rang twice before it picked up on the other end.
"Hello?" the familiar voice said to me.
"Hi, this is Liz, could I please speak wi–"
"Sure, Liz, he'll be right there." She covered the speaker and yelled his name.
"Coming!" I heard him say faintly, and then as his voice got louder, he grabbed the phone and said, "Hello?"
"Hey, David, it's me, Liz," I said cheerfully.
"Hey, Liz, what's up?" he asked back.
"Well, I don't know, just felt like calling you," I said confidently. "Is that so wrong?"
Meet David Gordon. My best friend forever. We've been best friends practically since the day we were born. He's so caring and helpful, especially lately, with the hardships and stuff. He's a lot like Matt, except closer to my age and (no offense to Matt) a lot cooler. He likes a lot of cool stuff and we're really goofy when we're together. He's kind of cute, in a dorky kind of way, but don't start making stupid assumptions. Just because girls and boys that are friends on TV always end up together doesn't mean it always happens in real life. He was best guy friend material, nothing more.
"Nah, I don't have anything to do right now anyway," he said as I heard him flop on his bed. "So.7th grade, huh?"
"The teachers are evil, the work is tough, the building is confusing and my crush still doesn't like me," I said despondently.
"I don't see why not," he said in my defense. "You're really cooland stuff."
"Me? Liz McGuire? Cool? Are you sure about that one, David?" I asked in all seriousness. "Come on, everyone knows that our little clique is the dorkiest clique in the entire school."
"Yeah, but Larry Tudgeman isn't that popularonly like a step above us."
Larry Tudgeman is the name of the boy I like. He's soooo cute, really nice, and extremely smart. I've liked him for almost a year now and he still hasn't noticed me. David and I were absolute nerds, so it's understandable that Larry would never even give me the time of day. But I'm okay with it. I've liked boys more popular than Larry and I've survived rejection.
"Don't you wish we were popular, David?" I said randomly. "Ruling the school. It'd be so cool."
"Being popular would be awesome. I'd boss people around and make them kiss my feet," he laughed. Suddenly, I heard another voice on the other end. "Err, I gotta go, Liz. See you tomorrow."
"See you," I said sadly.
Then I had another thought. David wasn't my only friend. I could call
"Hello?" a familiar voice said over the phone.
"Hey, Katie!" I exclaimed. "What's up?"
"Whoa, Liz, happy much? I know you, and I seriously doubt you enjoyed the first day of school that much," Katie said sarcastically.
"I'm just so happy to be talking to youuuuu!" I yelled.
Meet Katie Sanders. My other best friend. David, Katie and I were the three biggest dorks in the school and we wouldn't have it any other way. Katie was the tall, rational one of our group. She'd always let us know when we were being ridiculous, which was quite often. Last I heard, she still liked Larry Tudgeman along with me. But that's why I was calling
"So" she began. "You still like Larry?"
"Totally," I gushed. "Do you still like Larry?"
"Ummm" A nervous pause. "No."
"Oh my gosh!" I practically screamed. "Who's the new boy in your life?"
"Okay," she stated officially. "You have to promise not to tell anyone."
By the way she said it, I knew she meant business.
"Of course not. Who would I tell anyway?" I laughed to lighten the mood a bit.
"Trueokay." She inhaled. "IhaveahumongousmajorcrushonDavid," she said all in one breath.
I took a second to comprehend. Katie likes David!
"Awwww!" I shrieked. "That is so cute! You guys would be adorable together. I'll put in a good word for you!"
"Liz, you totally rock. I love you so much!" She squealed. "I gotta go now! I'll see you later!"
"Later!"
As bad as my day had started off, by the end of the day, I was beginning to feel like my life was perfect. I lived the perfect life. I might not be popular and my crush may not like me, and I may not have the nicest mother or best-looking home, but here I was. I was Liz McGuire, and I loved myself.
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[A/N: Wow, talk about alternate-reality Lizzie. You're probably confused. Oh well. You'll just have to wait until the next chapter.
Lemme know what you think: please review!]