Chapter Five
Whoops
I pull up at the music store after school. I want to have another look at the guitar I'm going to buy. Really.
A Fender Strat. It is the best guitar on this earth, and I want it. But my dad'll never let me buy it. He thinks buying a guitar will turn me into a mad rock-and-roll star, getting pissed every night and going out shagging anyone within a range of two hundred metres. Sometimes I really wonder if he knows me at all.
So, anyway. I sit in the shop and play the guitar for nearly an hour, going through all the songs that'll be on at Club Skunk tomorrow.
I go back out, after hanging the guitar back on the wall slightly reluctantly.
"Nice ride. Vintage fenders." He gives me the thumbs-up. Yes, it's screwboy. He's leaning on my car, waiting for me to come out. Have you ever seen a stalker movie?
"Are you following me?" It's more than a little creepy. I mean, I've been in that shop for an hour.
"I was in the Laundromat, I saw your car and came over to say hi." Plausible excuse - except that I don't want to talk to him.
"Hi." I walk past and make to get into the car, but he blocks me, sliding up till he's in front of me.
"Not a big talker, huh?"
"Depends on the topic. My fenders don't exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy." Well, it's true. He's clearly no good at topics.
"You're not afraid of me are you?" Well, duh! How long did it take to work that one out?
"Afraid of you, why should I be afraid of you?" You're nothing but a jumped- up unwashed miscreant screwboy with bad hair.
"Well, most people are." He looks quite sincere - for once.
"Well, I'm not."
"You might not be afraid of me, but I bet you've thought about me naked, huh?" He winks. Oh my God. A cheesy perve.
"Am I that transparent? I want you. I need you. Oh baby, oh baby." I shove him aside and get into my car.
He lets me - I'm quite surprised, actually. The way things were going I thought he'd refuse to let me past.
Suddenly another car pulls up. A red sports car, polished to perfection, with really, really, cheesy crap pop blaring out. Donner. Of course.
He gets out, having just blocked me in, and walks up to the shop.
"Ugh, what is it, Asshole Day?" I ask the world at large, and then bellow at him, "Do you mind?!"
"Not at all," he says. How annoying?! Something just snapped inside me then. I glared at him and revved up my car. Giving it full power, I reversed straight into Donner's Ass-Mobile, leaving a tear in the metal about two feet across.
Screwboy's laughing his head off. He's got a nice sounding laugh. Oh my God, was that a nice thought about him? Forget about that one.
"You bitch!" Donner comes racing back out the store to see his car.
I really, really, want to laugh, but I can't. I allow myself a tiny chuckle and contemplate the damage. "Whoops."
I knew I was for it as soon as my dad found out. When I came home and he saw my car.the damage wasn't that bad, (not to my hunk of junk anyway) but it was enough. I explained.
"Whoops?!" He confronts me as I lie on the sofa finishing The Bell Jar. "My insurance does not cover PMS!"
"Well then, tell them I had a seizure." I smile at my pure genius and sit up.
"Is this about Sarah Lawrence? Are you punishing me because I want you to stay close to home?" he asks. No, I'm not punishing you, Dad, I'm punishing Donner. Duh.
"Aren't you punishing me because Mom left?" I'm ready for a confrontation now. I hardly ever get out without one.
"Do you think you could leave her out of this?" I'll stop opening old wounds if you stop aggravating fresh ones.
"Fine, then stop making my decisions for me!"
"I'm your father, that's my right." Excuse me?! That's the worst thing I heard since 'Because I said so'.
"So what I want doesn't matter?" Does he really think he can get away with just treating me like a piece of his property?
"You're eighteen, you don't know what you want. And you won't know what you want until you're forty-five and even if you get it, you'll be too old to use it."
I know what I want, Dad! Who do you think I am? Bianca?
"I want to go to an East Coast School! I want you to trust me to make my own choices and I want you to stop trying to control my life just because you can't control yours!"
"Well, you know what I want?" His pager beeps, he looks at it and winces. "We'll continue this later."
"Can't wait," I say sarcastically. I head out to the hall, where Bianca's standing, phone in hand.
"Did you just maim Joey's car?" she screeches at me like the witch she is.
"Yeah. Looks like you're gonna have to take the bus." I smile.
"Has the fact that you're completely psycho managed to escape your attention?!" she wails. I can't be bothered with another confrontation right now. I walk past at head upstairs for the comfort of my room and my phone. I could do with talking to Mandella. From downstairs I hear Bianca shrieking, "Daddy!!!"
Whoops
I pull up at the music store after school. I want to have another look at the guitar I'm going to buy. Really.
A Fender Strat. It is the best guitar on this earth, and I want it. But my dad'll never let me buy it. He thinks buying a guitar will turn me into a mad rock-and-roll star, getting pissed every night and going out shagging anyone within a range of two hundred metres. Sometimes I really wonder if he knows me at all.
So, anyway. I sit in the shop and play the guitar for nearly an hour, going through all the songs that'll be on at Club Skunk tomorrow.
I go back out, after hanging the guitar back on the wall slightly reluctantly.
"Nice ride. Vintage fenders." He gives me the thumbs-up. Yes, it's screwboy. He's leaning on my car, waiting for me to come out. Have you ever seen a stalker movie?
"Are you following me?" It's more than a little creepy. I mean, I've been in that shop for an hour.
"I was in the Laundromat, I saw your car and came over to say hi." Plausible excuse - except that I don't want to talk to him.
"Hi." I walk past and make to get into the car, but he blocks me, sliding up till he's in front of me.
"Not a big talker, huh?"
"Depends on the topic. My fenders don't exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy." Well, it's true. He's clearly no good at topics.
"You're not afraid of me are you?" Well, duh! How long did it take to work that one out?
"Afraid of you, why should I be afraid of you?" You're nothing but a jumped- up unwashed miscreant screwboy with bad hair.
"Well, most people are." He looks quite sincere - for once.
"Well, I'm not."
"You might not be afraid of me, but I bet you've thought about me naked, huh?" He winks. Oh my God. A cheesy perve.
"Am I that transparent? I want you. I need you. Oh baby, oh baby." I shove him aside and get into my car.
He lets me - I'm quite surprised, actually. The way things were going I thought he'd refuse to let me past.
Suddenly another car pulls up. A red sports car, polished to perfection, with really, really, cheesy crap pop blaring out. Donner. Of course.
He gets out, having just blocked me in, and walks up to the shop.
"Ugh, what is it, Asshole Day?" I ask the world at large, and then bellow at him, "Do you mind?!"
"Not at all," he says. How annoying?! Something just snapped inside me then. I glared at him and revved up my car. Giving it full power, I reversed straight into Donner's Ass-Mobile, leaving a tear in the metal about two feet across.
Screwboy's laughing his head off. He's got a nice sounding laugh. Oh my God, was that a nice thought about him? Forget about that one.
"You bitch!" Donner comes racing back out the store to see his car.
I really, really, want to laugh, but I can't. I allow myself a tiny chuckle and contemplate the damage. "Whoops."
I knew I was for it as soon as my dad found out. When I came home and he saw my car.the damage wasn't that bad, (not to my hunk of junk anyway) but it was enough. I explained.
"Whoops?!" He confronts me as I lie on the sofa finishing The Bell Jar. "My insurance does not cover PMS!"
"Well then, tell them I had a seizure." I smile at my pure genius and sit up.
"Is this about Sarah Lawrence? Are you punishing me because I want you to stay close to home?" he asks. No, I'm not punishing you, Dad, I'm punishing Donner. Duh.
"Aren't you punishing me because Mom left?" I'm ready for a confrontation now. I hardly ever get out without one.
"Do you think you could leave her out of this?" I'll stop opening old wounds if you stop aggravating fresh ones.
"Fine, then stop making my decisions for me!"
"I'm your father, that's my right." Excuse me?! That's the worst thing I heard since 'Because I said so'.
"So what I want doesn't matter?" Does he really think he can get away with just treating me like a piece of his property?
"You're eighteen, you don't know what you want. And you won't know what you want until you're forty-five and even if you get it, you'll be too old to use it."
I know what I want, Dad! Who do you think I am? Bianca?
"I want to go to an East Coast School! I want you to trust me to make my own choices and I want you to stop trying to control my life just because you can't control yours!"
"Well, you know what I want?" His pager beeps, he looks at it and winces. "We'll continue this later."
"Can't wait," I say sarcastically. I head out to the hall, where Bianca's standing, phone in hand.
"Did you just maim Joey's car?" she screeches at me like the witch she is.
"Yeah. Looks like you're gonna have to take the bus." I smile.
"Has the fact that you're completely psycho managed to escape your attention?!" she wails. I can't be bothered with another confrontation right now. I walk past at head upstairs for the comfort of my room and my phone. I could do with talking to Mandella. From downstairs I hear Bianca shrieking, "Daddy!!!"