It was once again a rainy, Saturday morning. It's perfect. For me, though.
For mum it's just another reason to moan. She cannot do all her washing –I've suggested a tumble dryer, but why would she listen to me? I'm a disturbance to nature because of my hair straightener, according to her- and she won't be able to walk to the organic shop two blocks from our home because she'll get wet.
I've also suggested TAKE THE CAR, but it uses gas which is harmful to the earth's ozone layer and that causes the ice to melt in the north and south and that will cause the water level to rise with twenty-three metres which will give us less land to live on and then the earth will become even more crowded and blah blah blah… as if I don't hear enough of it at school, I get that little speech approximately once or twice a week.
Being the teenage daughter of an "I-was-once-a-hippie"- mother, is tough. Loosing a father because of it is even tougher. Who could blame him? He was a business man with a BMW and a cell phone which is email enabled. He got frustrated after about eight years (oh they tried, they really did) and left us to go live in New York City.
The words 'Hippie' and 'Business' just don't go together! But while in love you don't think that way, oh no… you make wild decisions. For example; like making me on the first night of your honeymoon.
Yes. I know.
Anyway, my mom was all "Free luuurrrvv" after I arrived and unfortunately had triplets. By accident of course, but I think that made her stop and think for a bit. She came to a conclusion; The Pill. An organic type of course, but it was all down hill from there. I've unfortunately scored the room next to theirs.
The triplets were a nightmare-come-true. My mom ended up breast-feeding them until they were three. Which is abnormal in my opinion. And what also? They were all boys. Luckily they didn't look alike at all, a dark head and two bronze heads. Quite cute really, but when they reached the age of twelve, it was clear that they have gained my mother's gigantic nose. They look awful, to me anyway…
Whole morning I've been trying to concentrate on my world-best-seller-to-be, but that is impossible with bronze heads arguing over some CD from Green Day. Originally it was my CD (yes, I am an Alternative fan) but you know what sixteen-year-old brothers are like. Or don't you?
All right, back to my world-best-seller-to-be. I am a writer. My first book's name was Gross. It was about having to live with triplet brothers. When I tried contacting a teen publisher, his first comment was: "Don't ever bring yourself into your book."
So the book was rejected and I decided to start one about teenage romance, because I have absolutely zero romance going on in my life.
It's quite normal for a fresh seventeen-year-old, I think. The only thing I've had close to any form of romance was back in kindergarten when I and a chubby little minx were playing 'Kissy-kissy'. He was a slob. So I don't want to linger any longer on that subject.
That's when my beloved hippie-mother burst into my room.
"Rose." Her voice sounded deep and irritated.
"Oh mother, I'm so sorry for existing. What's the problem now?"
"I hate it when you say that." She sneered and sat down on my unmade bed.
"Well the tone of your voice usually gives me the cue, so I'm not to blame."
She silently glared at me, shaking her head slowly. She can really be a beautiful woman if she tried. Her hair was black, long and straight, but unfortunately she believed in air drying and shampoo which you wash the rest of your body too. I hate that stuff.
"Where are your dirty clothes?"
"In the basket, next to my bed like always." I said annoyingly, turning my attention back too my digital notebook I got for my birthday about two months ago. It's Apple, and I love it.
She left the room without a word and I could hear the sound of her steps descending down the stairwell. I could then hear her arguing over "clothes that have been lying under the bed for months" with the boys. Trust her to spoil your much-deserved weekend for you.
I turned my attention back to the document open on the screen in front of me and sighed. How can I write having so many distractions? Authors don't have that. They have peace, quiet and stillness twenty-four/seven. In their billion-dollar mansions and with their unlimited platinum cards.
Bunch of lucky asses.
"But you need to work to get there!" I told myself out loud, somehow trying encourage myself. That's what they all had to do, write a full-length and wanted book first.
How am I going pull something like that off when I live in a mad house?
I hate dinner time. I hate every single second, of every single minute of it.
To start things off, it's almost always some sort of organic dish. This normally includes vegetables and vegetables only. The only form of meat we get in is baked beans. That's it. No turkey at Christmas, no chicken at a barbeque and absolutely no beef for a burgers' evening.
How damn boring.
"Matt, please eat something." Mum pleaded with my black-headed, triplet brother; Matthew.
I had to agree with her, he was as skinny as a skinny thing being skinny. The guy needs to eat. Urgently.
"Just let him rot and die, if that's what he wants!" Michael snapped, giving Matt a smirk.
"Michael! Leave him alone now; you can have your little discussion in your rooms if you're going to go on like this."
I hate it when my mom talks to them like that. They're teenagers for goodness' sake! When is she going to notice that they have grown up?
Thankfully it was quiet after that, and we ate in a preferred silence.
I am in urgent need for a friend. I know I've only seen them on Friday, but waking up this morning I felt like crying of loneliness.
I guess I could call the geeks (we call ourselves that) and invite them over, but my brothers might come to my room pretending to be looking for CD's while they're really just checking out my pals. We're juniors for Pete's sake! They're still stupid little sophomores.
I quickly dialled Wendy's number first; she is my bestie after all!
We've been together since like… last year when her mom was transferred from sunny Texas (Wendy's accent can be so annoying you'll feel suicidal) to Vancouver, California. I really love her. I think I love her more than my mother. Honestly!
"Hel-oh." An annoyed Wendy answered in her sleepy voice. I quickly glanced at the clock on our kitchen wall and saw it was still seven in the morning. Oops.
"Due to lack of socialism and an overload of loneliness, I request that thee come over in approximately one hour and thirty seconds. Over."
"I'm not in the mood for freaky talking, Rose."
"You sound like my mother. And it's not called freaky talking, it's called geeky talking, remember?"
"We're geeks, and we don't always talk like that."
"I'm sorry for waking you up at seven in the morning by talking like a freak. Will you forgive me?"
"I'll be there at nine." She responded after a little, stupid little giggle.
What ever that is.
I really just wanted to go back to bed, but I had to get us food for today (for me and Wendy) because of mum's scary veggie sweets. When I say food, I talk I terms of chocolates, crisps, candy and all the other kinds of yummy stuff that's harmful to nature. I need a break, okay. It gets pretty though after two days in this house.
I quickly tied back my hair and threw on a coat.
It still hasn't stopped raining, I thought while brushing my teeth in record time, looking out of the window. Walking down our corridor, it sounds like a snorathon. Like a snoring-marathon. Michael is the loudest, then Liam is like his echo, and Matthew makes more of voicy noise than a snore. It's heavily creepy. I don't know how they sleep with their rooms next each other. I'd die of not enough sleep.
I hurried out the door, and down our driveway onto the sidewalk. It was abso-bloody-lutely freezing out. There was a light rain which patted my face every ten seconds. I love this weather.
Luckily Johnny's is only two blocks away from us. They have the best doughnuts in American history. Let's make that World history. It's those that tastes like it's as fresh as it can be. It's those that have the liquid chocolate and the hundreds and thousands and the cocoa and the…
"Can I help you miss?" the baker shot me right back to reality.
"Err, yes please. Can I have four of the regular ring doughnuts please?" I replied.
"Anytime…" and he started packing them.
"Thanks." I thanked him after he handed them to me. I quickly made my way to the sweets corridor to collect all our needs.
After paying I hurried back home to hide the stuff in my room before one of the triplets saw it.
"Hey! I can smell it!"
Aw crap, it was Liam. He was standing in the kitchen, waiting for the toaster to jump.
"Nuh-uh! This is ours. Go get your own."
"You know I love those doughnuts more than you do!" he shot back, "And what 'our' are you talking about?"
"Clawy?" he asked, looking very excited. Oh please.
"No, it's Wendy. So leave us alone."
I ran up the stairs, but turned around, "And Claudia is her name! She's not Clawy!"
I shut the door as soon as I had all the stuff on my bad and plucked down in front of my laptop.
"So what's with the curls?" Wendy asked after taking an enormous bite from her chocolate doughnut. She's very, very unattractive with the icing smeared all over her face. She reminds me of bear then, and she'll never eat doughnuts again if I tell her that. So I've decided to leave her to enjoy it.
"You know I hate my straight hair." I replied.
"No I don't."
"Well, I do hate it
Sometimes my dear friend can be so non-understanding and bitch-like. She always knows nothing. Typical. And she's not even blonde!
"So you rather invested yourself in a curler?" she said while wiping her finger across her lip, and then sticking it into her mouth, sucking off the icing. Scary.
"No, darling Wendy." I, on the other hand, decided to help myself to some crisps. They are 1) Healthy and 2) Not messy. In my opinion, a wise decision.
"I use sponge rollers. They're much more organic – for my mom! – and easy to use."
Wendy just stared at me, "Never heard of it."
What is it with her? Can't she be more interested in my words than that half eaten doughnut?
"So," she interrupted my thoughts, "how's Liam?"
Here's the thing, Wendy likes Liam a lot. It's been going on since, err, last year. Which is a long time if you really think about it. Only problem is, Liam likes Claudia a lot. A lot. So this situation is very problematic and confusing. And complicated. Because Claudia has a long term boyfriend.
"He's all right, I guess. Why don't you go ask him!" and I regretted saying that as soon as I started saying it.
"Ohh what a great…"
"I meant later!" I grabbed her by the wrist and plucked her down onto the bed again. Seriously, he's the most disgusting brother a girl can have.
"So I've started writing on my best-seller novel again." I changed the subject.
"No, the romance one."
"Hey awesome! Can I read it first?"
"It's already booked."
"But you can read it after Monica, she usually reads them in a day just to prove it's too short and simple." I rolled my eyes, thinking about her book being accepted by an agent. The agent loved it, but apparently she was too young according to her parents. So they dropped the entire thing. Tough luck.