Chapter 2 - A Late Breakfast
Submitted September 4, 2009 Updated August 10, 2010 Status Incomplete | Um, just a little something I was working on that isn''t a fanfiction. I''m writing a story about a young teenager who hears a life-changing conversation from his new neighbors'' window. That''s the best I can describe it, but I suck a story descriptions.
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Miscellaneous » Writing » Action/Adventure |
Chapter 2 - A Late Breakfast
Chapter 2 - A Late Breakfast
Leanne's POV
The "important stuff" was apparently small talk. I hate small talk.
I impatiently run my hand through my curly red hair – both a habit and a warning. Leo shoots me the “no outbursts” look.
I ignore him.
“Look, we really have to go, so we’ll just be leaving now,” I cut in, grabbing Leo’s arm and dragging him up off the couch with me.
That woman – what was her name again – looks up, startled.
“But –“ she tries to protest.
“Goodbye,” I say forcefully, dragging Leo out behind me. No one protests against Leanne.
As soon as we hit the sidewalk, Leo jerks his arm out of my hand. “Gosh Leanne, what was that for?” he fumes.
I calmly walk back home, not looking at him. Why should I? “Like you said at dinner, they’re weird. I don’t hand out with weird people.
He runs forward and plants himself in my path, effectively stopping me. He knows me too well. “That surprises me, seeing as you’re weird yourself.”
I lose control and give chase, screaming after Leo as he runs away. As I run, I promise myself that I will never hang out with our new neighbors ever again.
_____________________________________________________________________
Hey Brian,
Summer’s been going fine, thanks. Leo’s a pest, as usual. Everyone thinks that having a twin is so cool, but it’s just really annoying.
How are you? Are you still on the swim team? I want to come watch you sometime. Maybe we can go to the beach together! Are you open this Friday? I have nothing going on at all, and it’s five minutes away from my house when you walk.
As always, I love you 4ever!
Love,
Leanne
I finish typing my name and proofread the e-mail to my boyfriend, being careful not to miss a single typo. It’s the very least I can do to show I care about him, and what I say to him. And that’s saying something, because I usually never care what I say to people.
“Leanne,” comes Mom’s voice from my doorway.
“Just a minute,” I mutter, finishing up and hitting send. I spin around in my chair, to see Mom standing there with a loving, sane smile on her face. I smile back; this is a rare occurrence. Ever since Dad died she’s been slightly crazy. That was back when I was five, so for most of my life she’s been like this – crazy, lovable Mom.
“Time for bed,” she says softly.
“Okay,” I agree, not putting up my usual fight. If she can be normal, then I can be less snappy.
“I love you, Leanne. Never forget that,” she says, sounding oddly wistful.
I nod. “I love you too, Mom. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” she says, and she leaves, closing the door.
I get up from my desk and climb into bed, flipping off the lamp and laying in the darkness, completely silent.
I remember Dad’s funeral. I didn’t really understand it then, being only five. Everyone was in black, and crying, and I was just plain confused. I didn’t get why they were sad. Now I do.
Mom wasn’t there. Leo and I went with our uncle. For the longest time I didn’t get why. Then about two years ago I realized that she was had been too traumatized to go; Mom had been very much in love with him, and never really realized – or expected – him to die and leave her here. And so she sent us to out uncle’s place for a month. When we came back…she was not the same Mom. Tonight she was an echo of what she had been, of what I could hardly remember. Vaguely I wondered why, then drifted into sleep.
_______________________________________________________________________
Yawning, I got up out of bed and stretched. How long had I slept? I could never tell; I like to keep my blinds closed. I made a blundering grab at my watch on the nightstand, and read its screen: 11:32 AM. I really slept late this morning! Well, compared to my standards.
I trudge downstairs in my pajamas, expecting to find Mom folding clothes and staring off into space or something. But she’s not there. I look around for about five minutes before finding the note on the fridge:
Leanne -
I went to the store to buy food. I’ll be back soon!
- Mom
Sighing, I open the fridge and pull out the carton of orange juice. Mom has this obsession with buying food. She goes out every morning at 11:00 exactly and buys…well, food. She puts me in charge of juice, which she makes me get every Wednesday at 1:00 in the afternoon. Mom is strange.
In any case, I have enough to make myself breakfast. Leo’s still asleep, so he can fix himself something when he gets up. I stick a piece of toast into the toaster, pour myself a bowl of cereal, get some orange juice, and set to work cutting up a peach. Halfway through slicing it the toaster goes off, and I get my food eagerly. Soon I’m sitting down at the table and reading the newspaper while I eat my breakfast.
“Morning,” says a groggy Leo.
“Morning,” I reply, intent on my newspaper article.
“Where’s the orange juice?”
“Gone.” I drank it all.
“Fine.” He begins rummaging though the kitchen, waking up enough to fix himself brunch.
I clear my plate, sticking it in the dishwasher for Mom to wash later. “Leanne, you do know that you were really rude yesterday,” says Leo. Why can’t he just drop it?
“Yeah, so?”
“I say you should apologize.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Make me.”
“Fine, breakfast can wait.” I feel a shove in my back, and begin trying to dig my heels into the floor so he can’t push me out the door.
Darn, he won. He pushes me down the sidewalk, apparently unaware that we’re in our pajamas. He even pushes me up to the door of their house, and then rings the doorbell. I simply stand there and try to look like I don’t care about what’s going on.
“Hello?” says the crazy woman, opening the door. Her hair is a little neater than yesterday, but otherwise she looks the same.
“Leanne has something to say to you,” Leo prompts me.
“No I don’t,” I say in the classic escape to this situation.
“Yes you do!” he hisses, following the script.
“No, I don’t!”
“Fine, I’ll say it for you! Telsa –“ so that’s her name “Leanne is sorry for he way she acted earlier. It was a mistake, really.”
“Oh, it’s okay! Won’t you stay for lunch? We were just about to start,” Telsa says happily.
The tall man comes up behind her and says, “Don’t pressure them, Telsa.” Almost instantly, I relax. I like this guy. So calm and sane.
Telsa scowls back at him. “Don’t tell me what to do in the house that I bought.”
“But I bought –“ he tries to say, but Telsa puts her hand over his mouth – she has to stand on tiptoe to do so – and mutters something to him. He scowls and nods. My temper flares slightly, noticing that she made him mad. I don’t want her to make him mad.
“Good!” Telsa says, perking up in a wild mood swing. I really don’t like people with wild mood swings. “Now, will you stay for lunch?”
“Well, actually, I just wanted her to apologize, but thanks,” Leo answers for me. This is one of the times that I’m grateful for him.
“Well, okay, but come any time! Really, please do!” she says, sending us on our way with many waves and goodbyes.
Telsa is officially on my “people who annoy me” list.
The "important stuff" was apparently small talk. I hate small talk.
I impatiently run my hand through my curly red hair – both a habit and a warning. Leo shoots me the “no outbursts” look.
I ignore him.
“Look, we really have to go, so we’ll just be leaving now,” I cut in, grabbing Leo’s arm and dragging him up off the couch with me.
That woman – what was her name again – looks up, startled.
“But –“ she tries to protest.
“Goodbye,” I say forcefully, dragging Leo out behind me. No one protests against Leanne.
As soon as we hit the sidewalk, Leo jerks his arm out of my hand. “Gosh Leanne, what was that for?” he fumes.
I calmly walk back home, not looking at him. Why should I? “Like you said at dinner, they’re weird. I don’t hand out with weird people.
He runs forward and plants himself in my path, effectively stopping me. He knows me too well. “That surprises me, seeing as you’re weird yourself.”
I lose control and give chase, screaming after Leo as he runs away. As I run, I promise myself that I will never hang out with our new neighbors ever again.
_____________________________________________________________________
Hey Brian,
Summer’s been going fine, thanks. Leo’s a pest, as usual. Everyone thinks that having a twin is so cool, but it’s just really annoying.
How are you? Are you still on the swim team? I want to come watch you sometime. Maybe we can go to the beach together! Are you open this Friday? I have nothing going on at all, and it’s five minutes away from my house when you walk.
As always, I love you 4ever!
Love,
Leanne
I finish typing my name and proofread the e-mail to my boyfriend, being careful not to miss a single typo. It’s the very least I can do to show I care about him, and what I say to him. And that’s saying something, because I usually never care what I say to people.
“Leanne,” comes Mom’s voice from my doorway.
“Just a minute,” I mutter, finishing up and hitting send. I spin around in my chair, to see Mom standing there with a loving, sane smile on her face. I smile back; this is a rare occurrence. Ever since Dad died she’s been slightly crazy. That was back when I was five, so for most of my life she’s been like this – crazy, lovable Mom.
“Time for bed,” she says softly.
“Okay,” I agree, not putting up my usual fight. If she can be normal, then I can be less snappy.
“I love you, Leanne. Never forget that,” she says, sounding oddly wistful.
I nod. “I love you too, Mom. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” she says, and she leaves, closing the door.
I get up from my desk and climb into bed, flipping off the lamp and laying in the darkness, completely silent.
I remember Dad’s funeral. I didn’t really understand it then, being only five. Everyone was in black, and crying, and I was just plain confused. I didn’t get why they were sad. Now I do.
Mom wasn’t there. Leo and I went with our uncle. For the longest time I didn’t get why. Then about two years ago I realized that she was had been too traumatized to go; Mom had been very much in love with him, and never really realized – or expected – him to die and leave her here. And so she sent us to out uncle’s place for a month. When we came back…she was not the same Mom. Tonight she was an echo of what she had been, of what I could hardly remember. Vaguely I wondered why, then drifted into sleep.
_______________________________________________________________________
Yawning, I got up out of bed and stretched. How long had I slept? I could never tell; I like to keep my blinds closed. I made a blundering grab at my watch on the nightstand, and read its screen: 11:32 AM. I really slept late this morning! Well, compared to my standards.
I trudge downstairs in my pajamas, expecting to find Mom folding clothes and staring off into space or something. But she’s not there. I look around for about five minutes before finding the note on the fridge:
Leanne -
I went to the store to buy food. I’ll be back soon!
- Mom
Sighing, I open the fridge and pull out the carton of orange juice. Mom has this obsession with buying food. She goes out every morning at 11:00 exactly and buys…well, food. She puts me in charge of juice, which she makes me get every Wednesday at 1:00 in the afternoon. Mom is strange.
In any case, I have enough to make myself breakfast. Leo’s still asleep, so he can fix himself something when he gets up. I stick a piece of toast into the toaster, pour myself a bowl of cereal, get some orange juice, and set to work cutting up a peach. Halfway through slicing it the toaster goes off, and I get my food eagerly. Soon I’m sitting down at the table and reading the newspaper while I eat my breakfast.
“Morning,” says a groggy Leo.
“Morning,” I reply, intent on my newspaper article.
“Where’s the orange juice?”
“Gone.” I drank it all.
“Fine.” He begins rummaging though the kitchen, waking up enough to fix himself brunch.
I clear my plate, sticking it in the dishwasher for Mom to wash later. “Leanne, you do know that you were really rude yesterday,” says Leo. Why can’t he just drop it?
“Yeah, so?”
“I say you should apologize.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Make me.”
“Fine, breakfast can wait.” I feel a shove in my back, and begin trying to dig my heels into the floor so he can’t push me out the door.
Darn, he won. He pushes me down the sidewalk, apparently unaware that we’re in our pajamas. He even pushes me up to the door of their house, and then rings the doorbell. I simply stand there and try to look like I don’t care about what’s going on.
“Hello?” says the crazy woman, opening the door. Her hair is a little neater than yesterday, but otherwise she looks the same.
“Leanne has something to say to you,” Leo prompts me.
“No I don’t,” I say in the classic escape to this situation.
“Yes you do!” he hisses, following the script.
“No, I don’t!”
“Fine, I’ll say it for you! Telsa –“ so that’s her name “Leanne is sorry for he way she acted earlier. It was a mistake, really.”
“Oh, it’s okay! Won’t you stay for lunch? We were just about to start,” Telsa says happily.
The tall man comes up behind her and says, “Don’t pressure them, Telsa.” Almost instantly, I relax. I like this guy. So calm and sane.
Telsa scowls back at him. “Don’t tell me what to do in the house that I bought.”
“But I bought –“ he tries to say, but Telsa puts her hand over his mouth – she has to stand on tiptoe to do so – and mutters something to him. He scowls and nods. My temper flares slightly, noticing that she made him mad. I don’t want her to make him mad.
“Good!” Telsa says, perking up in a wild mood swing. I really don’t like people with wild mood swings. “Now, will you stay for lunch?”
“Well, actually, I just wanted her to apologize, but thanks,” Leo answers for me. This is one of the times that I’m grateful for him.
“Well, okay, but come any time! Really, please do!” she says, sending us on our way with many waves and goodbyes.
Telsa is officially on my “people who annoy me” list.
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