Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews and PMs guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter too.
{~~~O~~~}
"You like her." Momma accuses, rather loudly if you ask me.
"Shh!" I hiss back.
But she doesn't hush. She gets even louder!
"Is this the first time that has happened?" She points at my pants.
I put a hand in front of me, like that'll cover the sucker up, and I shake my head. "No, it's not the first time. But it won't go down now… it always go down!" I panic.
"What do you mean it won't go down? Did you try"-
"Momz!" Charlie bangs on the bathroom door, interrupting a very crucial piece of advice that I desperately need. "You forgot to turn the hotdogs off, is Vega okay?" She asks, merging two sentences into one.
"Then turn them off!" Momma yells back.
"Is Vega okay?" Charlie asks again, ignoring my mom's command.
That Charlie is one brave soul. The thought makes my thing throb. Painfully.
"Turn the hotdogs off!" Momma screams.
"Okay, okay. How the heck do you burn hotdogs anyway?" Charlie mumbles, seemingly talking to herself, but she's loud enough for us to hear at the same time.
Momma tries to goes after her. And I understand why. No one talks to her that way, but I grab onto my mother's arm. I need her.
"Help me!" I whine.
Momma glances down at my jeans quickly before she averts her eyes. "Figure that shit out, bud." She says before turning to leave
She's got her hand on the door knob, about to leave, but then the door is suddenly opened.
I jump into the tub and pull the shower curtains closed.
"Vega, guess what I got."
It's Ayla, again.
"Get out of here , pre-terd!" I poke my head from behind the curtains and scream at her.
"Vega!" Momma yells back at me.
It's a warning. And I deserve it. I know I do. It's not nice to scream at little three year olds, but I need Momma right now. Ayla and Aiden get her attention all the time. They're three and I expect them to be needy, so I don't complain. I can share, but this is important. Ayla can give me this one little moment with our mother can't she? It's not like the lucky little terd is ever gonna go through this. She's Mom's egg, but not Momma's…uh seed. She'll never have to grow a thing.
And I resent her for it.
"Momma, it hurts." I whisper pathetically.
She scratches the back of her neck and looks over my head. Then she turns to Ayla and sends her downstairs before shutting the door and facing me again. I notice her eyes are averted
She can't even look at me.
I bet she wishes I was normal like Ayla. I bet she wishes she didn't have a daughter she should have to explain this kind of stuff to.
"Just, play with it Vega." She sighs impatiently.
My face heats up. Play with it? I've never done that before. I realize it's my thing, but I've never had to touch it before. It always goes down on its own. Always.
"You want me to….to masturbate it," I squeak.
"Exactly." Momma groans before leaving me all alone in the bathroom. I hear her mutter, "Where the fuck is Tori when I need her," and my feelings get hurt.
She didn't say anything rude, but the fact that she feels she needs help to deal with me makes me feel…hurt. Momma's my bestie. I still love Mom, but me and Momma….we're closer. I can share anything with her. At least, I thought I could.
"Vega, you okay in there?" Charlie knocks on the door.
"I'll be out in a minute." I tell her.
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh."
I hear her walk away and I sigh. Then I pull my jeans down, preparing to "take care of it."
Here goes.
It takes all of thirty seconds for me to find release.
Pathetic.
And then I wish my hands, as well as certain spots on the shower curtain. You can say I made a bit of a mess; which was totally gross, but I feel much better now.
I hop down the stairs and join everyone in the kitchen. It's smoky as hell in here. Charlie wasn't kidding when she said Momma tried to burn the house down.
Momma's at the stove, trying to salvage whatever she can. Charlie's got an Aiden on her back and an Ayla on her front. I smile at her. I do that too sometimes.
She smiles back at me but I purposely miss it and give my attention to my mom.
"How'd you do this," I wave around, indicating the smoke, "by boiling hotdogs?"
Momma scowls, but doesn't turn around to look at me.
"Are you feeling better?" Charlie laughs.
I make the mistake of looking at her and my smile drains away.
That. Freaking. Smile.
"Uh-un." I shake my head and run back upstairs.
It takes me much longer to get my thing under control this time, but I learned how to not make such a big mess.
Yay me.
I run down the stairs again, once again making an entrance. Momma barely looks at me, which hurts me again, but I feel instantly better when Charlie runs up to me and grabs my hand.
"Finally, you're back. Now we get to eat these lovely black hotdogs Momz made for us." She says as she drags me into the kitchen.
"What'd you just say about my cooking?" Momma growls at her. She has no problem giving Charlie her attention.
I get a little jealous, but immediately push it away. It's not Charlie's fault I'm a freak.
"I love your cooking. Lemme get four hotdogs and two buns," is Charlie's answer to Momma.
"Four hotdogs?" I ask, snapping my attention her way.
"You sure you can eat four?" Momma asks while putting them on her plate.
"Please," Charlie waves her off. "By the time I peel off the black parts I'll have four halves. Four halves make two you know. I'm a genius with fractions."
I laugh at her.
Momma doesn't.
"Alright genius; if I cut a Charlie up into a million pieces what fraction of her do you think the police will be able to find in one night? A fifth…a tenth…a hundredth…or a millionth?"
"Momma!" I panic. I don't want her to scare Charlie off any more than I will by the end of the night.
But Charlie laughs at Momma and takes her plate to the dining room table. I do the same.
She peels her hotdogs like she said she would, and she puts two halves in each bun before pouring ketchup and mustard on them.
I only use the ketchup. So does Aiden. Wait, crap. I forgot my brother and sister.
"Vega, help Aiden. I got Ayla." Momma calls.
"I know, I'm coming!" I completely forgot about the little ones. Usually I help feed them, but tonight, well, my mind is elsewhere.
"I'll be right back." I tell Charlie. Then I go to the kitchen, grab Aiden by the hand, and put him in his booster seat so he can reach the table. The twins make less of a mess that way.
I sit back down next to Charlie and smile apologetically at her. She seems to understand because she shrugs her shoulders and takes a huge bite out of her hotdog. A bit of ketchup oozes out and slowly dribbles onto her cheek.
I sigh heavily, get up, quickly make my way to the bathroom, and sit on the toilet. Jeez, I might as well spend the rest of the night in here if stupid stuff like that can make my thing jump.
There's a knock on the door a few minutes later and Momma tells me to let her in.
I open the door, and again, she doesn't make eye contact with me. "Vega, bud, you have a serious problem. This is your third time in here."
"I know, I'm sorry." I mumble miserably.
"Why are you sorry?"
I shrug and look down at the floor.
Momma puts a finger under my chin. I know it's because she wants me to look up at her, but I don't wanna. I keep my eyes down.
"Do you wish I was like Ayla?" I ask. I had no intention of doing so, but the question just came out.
"What does that even mean?" Momma tugs on my chin a little more, still trying to get me to look up at her.
I do it, but I don't necessarily look at her. My gaze has settled on her studded eyebrow.
"I mean, wouldn't this be easier for you if I didn't have a…problem?"
"What?"
I start to get frustrated. Momma's not stupid. She should've been able to pick up on what I'm implying by now.
"Ayla's never gonna have a thing like me." I start off, deciding to completely break it down for Momma so she'll finally get what I'm asking.
"I know, poor kid. She's gonna miss out on a lot."
Huh? Poor kid? Miss out? Am I missing something?
"Look, bud. It starts off awkward, but after a while, you get to see that there's nothing better than being able to…um…" she clears her throat. "What I meant was, it gets better. Much better."
There's a knock on the door and I swear silently. Why can't I have just a little time with my mother?
Momma cracks the door open a bit and I hear Charlie's voice. "Is Vega okay?" she asks, voice full of concern. I can't blame her. I keep going to the bathroom every five seconds.
"She's got diarrhea." Momma answers nonchalantly.
"Momma!"
"It doesn't smell like diarrhea" Charlie rebuttals immediately.
"How do you know her shit doesn't smell like roses?"
"Nobody's shit smells like roses, Momz."
"Go babysit the twins. She'll be down in a few minutes."
"I charge twenty dollars an hour…"
Momma jumps at her and I expect to hear Charlie squeal and run away. But she doesn't.
"And that's per kid. That makes forty an hour for you." Charlie finishes.
Oh, she's so brave and I know my thing likes that but there's no way I can do that in front of my mom. I press my hands to the front of my jeans, attempting to keep my thing from stretching.
"Momma," I whine.
"I'm coming, baby." She gives me a quick glance and turns back to Charlie. "Seriously, watch the twins for a second. I'll be down in a minute."
"Okay." She agrees. No argument this time.
Once the door shuts, my mom faces me with a huge grin on her face. "I really like that kid. You did good, Vega."
"Yeah, well if I scare her off because I can't keep my thing in my pants…"
Momma rolls her eyes as if I'm being a drama queen. "Look, the trick is to think of something you hate when you start to feel the stretching."
"Huh."
"For example, whenever Little Jade wants your Mom at an"-
"La, la, la..." I cover my ears and start singing. I'm not gonna listen to that.
Momma uncovers my ears. "Listen, Vega. Whenever Little Jade wants your mom at an inappropriate time to have her, I just think of the color yellow, or bras that hook in the front, or, or panties." She shudders. She really hates that word.
"Okay, okay I get it." I wave hands in front of my face to keep her from saying anything else weird. "Lemme think."
Let's see. Things I hate would be squirrels, wide ruled paper, roses that are painted unnatural colors, ice in my already cold soda, beets, God I really hate beets. They're like candied blood or something.
"So what are you gonna think about?" Momma asks, getting a little impatient with my silence.
"You!" I joke before pushing past her and running away.
I can hear her screaming behind me, telling me to come back to her. Of course I don't stop. I keep running. Because I'm smart.
Unfortunately it doesn't help. Momma catches me once I'm downstairs and tackles me to the ground. She's very gifted, because it doesn't hurt in the least. She could've been a professional wrestler.
"Say that again, I dare you." she growls as she tickles me all over.
"Stop!" I scream. I love being tickled, but I hate it at the same time. I always gotta wazz really bad afterward.
"Momma, I'm sorry!" I apologize when she keeps going despite my squirming and many protests.
"Tell me you love me," she commands, and I obey immediately.
"I love you!"
She doesn't stop.
"I don't believe you." She has to shout over my screams.
"I love you!" I shriek louder.
"Still don't"-
"I LOVE YOU! YOU'RE THE BEST MOMMA IN THE WORLD!"
"Better." She grins and stops with the torture.
When she gets up off me, I don't even make an effort to get up as well. I'm too pooped. I stay on my back and close my eyes, trying to catch my breath back.
"My turn!" I hear Charlie shout before she takes Momma's place on top of me. I open my eyes and gasp. This is not a good idea. I try to push her off but I can't. She's really strong.
Her hands go to my ribs and she starts the tickling.
Shit!
Beets, beets, beets, beets, beets….