Young Writers Society

The second installment of a story I've been working on. You can find part one here.This is supposed to be the 4th chapter, but I cut out the stuff in the middle because I wasn't very happy with it. The only thing the reader looses with that is a little more knowledge about Carmen and Richie. Anyways, enjoy

Was that…Jello?

I picked up my foot with a groan and peered at the bottom to confirm.

Yep. It was Jello. Mushy, sticky, fel-low, fel-low, stick your head in Jel-lo, J-E-L-L-O.

My kid sister ate Jello like drug addicts sniffed crack. It was like a separate food group for her. Personally, I always hated the stuff, but I don’t really know why. Maybe it was the way it slid down your throat like the gak from Nickelodeon’s “SlimeTime”.

I sighed and sat down on the dirty mat by the door and yanked off my sneakers before heading on into the kitchen. I’d clean it up later.

“Ma!?” There were about a hundred and two Snapple Green Teas on the top shelf of the fridge, and a hundred and three on the bottom shelf, all belonging to my mother. I pushed them aside and snatched my red Gatorade, “I’m home!” It was easiest to yell, because whether she was in the basement or in the living room, she could usually hear me.

“How was class?” Footsteps were heard close by, coming down the stairs.

“Just fine.” I took a gulp of my drink and wiped my mouth with my arm, “Can I go to Richie’s house? We’re gonna play some Madden and then start some roller hockey and since today’s Friday we thought we’d--”

My mother came into the kitchen, curlers in her hair and her tank top tucked into her shorts.

This was bad.

She frowned, “…I was hoping you didn’t have plans tonight. Jeffery was taking me out to dinner.” I cringed, waiting for the next part, “…I was hoping you could watch the little ones.”

The little ones. Sadie and Michael. Vinegar and baking soda. Jesus and Lucifer.

Remember Jello girl? That’s Sadie, my kid sister. She’s 7-years-old with sandy blonde hair that goes down to her butt and she’s just as fast of a runner as me. She’s a pretty cool tyke, all in all. I don’t mind being her older brother at all. She’s already got a love interest too, Michael. That’s Jeff’s kid. It’s kinda cute, in that ‘don’t-know-anything-about-love-or-sex’ kind of way. The only problem is Mike’s in that cootie stage and he wants nothing to do with her. And that’s where the trouble starts.

Like me, I think he’d rather cut off his own thumb than spend the evening here.

“It’s no problem Ma.” I smiled one of those fake smiles. The ones mothers want to see, “What time is he coming to pick you up?”

“Six-thirty.” It was only quarter after 2, “But you can have Richie come over if you want.”

“Can’t I just go outside for a little while?”

My mother smiled a smile that said no, “Why don’t you just stay inside in the A-C? The high’s supposed 90 today.”

I sighed and just headed into the living room and booted up the XBOX 360, despite the shining sun as my mom headed back upstairs to put away clothes or wash the bathroom or do whatever while her hair was curling.

XBOX Live was such an accomplishment in the pre-teen to young-adult world, it was viewed by guys like me and Richie as one of the Lord’s late miracles. Of course, if his dad was around to hear it, we’d always get a nice lecture on Jesus changing water to wine and healing that blind dude.

I went ahead and slipped in ‘Call of Duty 4’ before plopping down onto the couch with my controller and pulling on my headset. It was one of many rituals for me and Richie; hanging out on XBOX Live after getting home from summer school, although we usually hang out in the park for awhile before coming home. After an hour or so of sniping out kids from Texas and arguing with British kids about America’s obesity problem, we call it quits and grab some food before starting up a game of evening kickball and later some flashlight tag.

But of course, tonight would just be one of those boring “inside nights”

***********

A few hours later, I sat with Richie on the couch in the living room as he played with his 50-cent vending machine sticky hand, watching my little sister and Michael engage in one of those infamous ‘yeah-huh/nuh-uh’ fights. Which was better? “The Cat in the Hat” or “Green Eggs and Ham”?

You tell me.

So between the continuous, irritating slapping of Richie’s cheap novelty toy against my hardwood floor and the bickering between Sadie and Michael, I was this close to loosing my sanity.

And that’s when Richie’s phone rang.

He jumped, startled by the sounds of Disturbed coming from his pocket. Richie whipped his cell phone out and put it to his ear after glancing at the caller ID, “Y’ello?” His eyes slid over to me and he smirked, “Ash? Uh, no, he’s in the bathroom right now. Y’see, we just ate tacos--”

“This is Ash. Hello?” There was no way in Hell I was going to let him finish that sentence, so I snatched the phone before he could. Carmen was on the other line.

“How were the tacos?” There was a giggle in her voice.

God, Carmen. She was amazing. She was the kind of girl you would never have a chance with, but like I mentioned before, it was Richie that got us together. I was always so damn worried about embarrassing myself in front of her.

“Oh. No, actually, they were burritos.” No! What the Hell? That didn’t matter. I heard her laugh on the other line. I’m such an idiot.

“Big difference, Ash. So anyways, what are you doing right now?”

“Well--” I stopped as my sister shrieked.

“Asher!!” My sister had this thing with using full names. Mom says it’s a phase, “Tell ‘im at’ give it back! I want my dolly back Asher go get it!!” Michael had run off with the beloved doll. I groaned and looked pleadingly at Richie. He just shrugged at me.

“No Asher I don’t want him touching my dolly you gotta go get it so go!”

“Hold on Carmen,” I groaned, “My sister’s whining.” And that’s where I made my mistake; I tossed the phone to my friend before running off to make the daring rescue.