You Wanna Help Up Your Big Brother?, chapter 2
Ok, fast forward to about 2 am in the morning. We went to Shop Rite and ate Pop Tarts and Rice Krispies for dinner. Anyway, I'm lying in my new bed, trying to get some sleep. Ollie and Dad went out to a movie and God knows where Tony and Holly went. And I know that God doesn't want to know what they're doing. So, I'm trying to sleep and I hear this noise from next door. I get up, in only a Dead Kennedys t-shirt and undies. The noise gets louder, more, I guess throatier. I put my ear against Billie Joe's door.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, ARRRRGGHHHHHH!"
Is he jacking off? I wondered. Or is he having sex? Who'd wanna bone HIM, though?
"Grrrrrargh." I hear metal banging. Oh, thank God in heaven, he's lifting weights. That was awkward. And wrong on soooo many levels. I sigh, relieved and walk back into my room. I crash for about a half-hour, but than wake up to someone shaking me.
"What? What? What? Fire?" I moaned, sitting up.
"No, it's your fantastic brother." He smiles in my face. Minty freshness. Deduct 5 points for trying to make a move on soon to be sister.
"What?" I repeat myself. "I'm not buying you any more Rice Krispies." His hair is wet, hanging right above his eyes. "I hope to God that that's not sweat."
"Nah. I took a shower. I need you to do me a favour."
"Ok. What-"
"I need you to drive me to this party that one of my friends is having." Deduct 5 more points for interrupting me.
"No." I plopped my face back into my pillow.
"But-"
"No."
"Whatever. But Mark Hoppus is gonna be there." Give 'em 15 points for mentioning Mark.
"Where is it?"
***
I jumped down the stairs and asked, "Does this skirt my ass look bigger than it already is?" I was wearing a black long sleeved sweater, a black skirt, fishnets, and my leather army boots. I had put on dark red lipstick and mascara and eyeliner. We were dressed pretty similar, so I knew I was gonna fit in just fine. (Similar as in, we were both wearing black. No cross dressing tonight.)
"Why are you asking me that?"
"Cuz I know you like me, queer." I trotted outside to my dad's car. Apparently, they had taken Ollie's car. I went to open it, but the doors were locked. I checked my pockets and looked through the window. "God dammit," I sighed.
"What? What happened?" he asked.
"I locked my keys in the car." He put his hands on his head and sighed, spinning around.
"Dumbass! You know what?" He turned back around to face me. "Ya might as well take out the face piercings, stop dying your hair black and switch to blonde."
"But it's only my nose... and my eyebrow... and my tongue."
"You're the fucken dumbest person I've ever met!" he yelled.
"I guess you've never had a conversation with yourself. Now get in."
"What?"
"While you were having your bitch fit, I picked the lock. Now get your scrawny white-ass in." Once we were inside and driving, he turned to me.
"Look, I'm sorry for how I yelled at you."
"You better be, you piece of white trash."
"And you're not white?" he said.
"You're right; I'm not. What part of the last name"- I crooked my fingers to look like quotation marks-" 'Lopez' don't cha get? Ya really don't see 100% Irish people walking around with that name."
"I did, once," he snickered sarcastically.
"I am this far from turning around!" I made a little box with my index finger and thumb. He made a face where he curled his lips up and looked out the window. I tried hard not to laugh. I couldn't help myself. At the next stoplight, I put my forehead on the steering wheel and started cracking up.
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing." I wiped my eyes and sighed, looking at him. "You gotta little...." I pointed at my eye, pretending it was his.
"Oh." He wiped his eyes.
"....Little eye booger," I said, finishing my sentence.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, ARRRRGGHHHHHH!"
Is he jacking off? I wondered. Or is he having sex? Who'd wanna bone HIM, though?
"Grrrrrargh." I hear metal banging. Oh, thank God in heaven, he's lifting weights. That was awkward. And wrong on soooo many levels. I sigh, relieved and walk back into my room. I crash for about a half-hour, but than wake up to someone shaking me.
"What? What? What? Fire?" I moaned, sitting up.
"No, it's your fantastic brother." He smiles in my face. Minty freshness. Deduct 5 points for trying to make a move on soon to be sister.
"What?" I repeat myself. "I'm not buying you any more Rice Krispies." His hair is wet, hanging right above his eyes. "I hope to God that that's not sweat."
"Nah. I took a shower. I need you to do me a favour."
"Ok. What-"
"I need you to drive me to this party that one of my friends is having." Deduct 5 more points for interrupting me.
"No." I plopped my face back into my pillow.
"But-"
"No."
"Whatever. But Mark Hoppus is gonna be there." Give 'em 15 points for mentioning Mark.
"Where is it?"
***
I jumped down the stairs and asked, "Does this skirt my ass look bigger than it already is?" I was wearing a black long sleeved sweater, a black skirt, fishnets, and my leather army boots. I had put on dark red lipstick and mascara and eyeliner. We were dressed pretty similar, so I knew I was gonna fit in just fine. (Similar as in, we were both wearing black. No cross dressing tonight.)
"Why are you asking me that?"
"Cuz I know you like me, queer." I trotted outside to my dad's car. Apparently, they had taken Ollie's car. I went to open it, but the doors were locked. I checked my pockets and looked through the window. "God dammit," I sighed.
"What? What happened?" he asked.
"I locked my keys in the car." He put his hands on his head and sighed, spinning around.
"Dumbass! You know what?" He turned back around to face me. "Ya might as well take out the face piercings, stop dying your hair black and switch to blonde."
"But it's only my nose... and my eyebrow... and my tongue."
"You're the fucken dumbest person I've ever met!" he yelled.
"I guess you've never had a conversation with yourself. Now get in."
"What?"
"While you were having your bitch fit, I picked the lock. Now get your scrawny white-ass in." Once we were inside and driving, he turned to me.
"Look, I'm sorry for how I yelled at you."
"You better be, you piece of white trash."
"And you're not white?" he said.
"You're right; I'm not. What part of the last name"- I crooked my fingers to look like quotation marks-" 'Lopez' don't cha get? Ya really don't see 100% Irish people walking around with that name."
"I did, once," he snickered sarcastically.
"I am this far from turning around!" I made a little box with my index finger and thumb. He made a face where he curled his lips up and looked out the window. I tried hard not to laugh. I couldn't help myself. At the next stoplight, I put my forehead on the steering wheel and started cracking up.
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing." I wiped my eyes and sighed, looking at him. "You gotta little...." I pointed at my eye, pretending it was his.
"Oh." He wiped his eyes.
"....Little eye booger," I said, finishing my sentence.
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