Say what? I have FOUR PARENTS!?, chapter 3
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I stepped out of the car at the London International Airport. I looked up at the shining lights of the city, wishing to never leave. I couldn't believe I'd ever wanted to leave London. I laughed.
"What?" Billie Joe asked, setting the luggage on the trolley-thingie.
"I feel like a tourist," I answered. "I can't believe I ever wanted to leave here." Billie Joe froze. "You...don't want to come with us?"
"No no no, that's not what I meant, Dad. It's just...London's so beautiful, I don't ever want to leave." Then, my phone started ringing and so did his, mine to London Bridge, my best friend's favorite song-that's the only reason it's on there- and his to Teenage Lobotomy. "Speak girlay!"
"Amiiii," Lika droned, "Where are youuu?"
"Stop talkin' like a damn baby, fer one, and second, I'm at LIA."
"Whaaattt?? What're you doin' there?"
"You did'n know? My parents did'n tell you? I'm moving to California, Li-I'm going to the United States!"
I knew Lika's jaw was dropped. "What? Ami, why? How could you do this? I don't understand."
"Lika, please, you gotta understand why I'm doin' this. I actually have 4 parents-Rob and Sahara-the two you know-and Billie Joe and Adrienne Armstrong."
"So? That gives you no right to leave me here. Billie Joe and all those other people in whatever band it is aren't more important than me."
I snapped. "Know what, screw you Lika-I'm going with my parents. If you can't even respect me for that, I don't need you as a friend. This is good bye, probably-and hopefully-for GOOD." I snapped my phone shut and shoved it back in my pocket. Adie looked over at me; Billie Joe was still on the phone.
"Wow, what a little talker," she laughed, shaking her head.
"I know, I was born that way," I grinned. "Mom-er, Sahara, that is-says my first word was asshole."
"Oh my god, are you serious?"
"Either that, or-by what Dad/Rob says- muck, because I couldn't really say the f word yet."
Adie, er, Mom, looked shocked. "Where the HELL did you learn all this at such a young age?"
"I was raised around metal and hard rock, of course I'd know how to curse."
"Hey, ladies, we gettin' on the plane or what?" Billie Joe hollered over to us, walking in the doors, an airport person pushing the trolley behind him.
"Eh, maybe," I hollered back, smiling. "Ready, mum?"
"Long as you've been born," Mom grinned back, taking my hand and obviously pleased that I'd called her mum.
I gripped the edge of the leather armrest on my first-class seat, digging my nails in.
"Ami, calm down," Mom said, putting her hand over mine. "It's fine, trust me."
"Excuse me, I may be English, but I know what happened in New York with the Twin Towers. I have a BAD fear of flying."
"Shh, some of us ARE trying to sleep," Dad said, kicking the back of my seat. I turned around and glared at him. With one eye open, he glared back.
"Well, I'm sorry I'm afraid of being KILLED," I hissed at him. He snorted and shut his eye again. "Jackass..." He snored and I turned back around. "I swear..."
"I know, I know, he IS a real jackass when he's grouchy, but you'll get used to it, I can promise. I've been with him for 9 years- I should know him PRETTY well by now," Mom laughed.
Nine hours later we arrived at the Berkely airport, where Mike, Estelle, Tre, Ramona, Frankito, Joey, and Jakob were waiting.
"Daddy!" Jakob said, running over to his dad.
"Jake!" he said, picking him up and spinning him around.
"DAD! What about me?" Joey said, running over as well. Dad set Jake on his hip and hugged Joey.
"Hello to you too, squirt," he lauged. Ramona and Stella came over to me.
"Hi, I'm Ramona, and this is Estelle, but call her Stella," Ramona said, sticking her hand out to me. I shook it. "How old are you?"
"I'm nine, born March 3, 1994," I said. "You?"
"I'm nine as well, and I like to celebrate my day of birth on July 4! No, that's not my birthday, I just like July 4th."
"Weirdo."
"I know," Stella laughed. "I'm 8, and like to celebrate my birthday on April 15. That's Joey, though you probably know that, his birthday's in March, too, though he's a year younger than you."
"Yep, and that little kid Uncle Billie's swinging around," Ramona continued, "Is Jakob, September 29, 1998."
"Ami!" Dad hollered over to me. "Come here!"
"Comin', Dad!" I hollered back, and walked back with Stella and Ramona.
"What do ya need? Your diapers changed?" Ramona cracked up. I smiled.
"No, though your dad might, Ramona," Billie Joe countered, "And I want you to meet Jake, Joey, Mike, and-well, maybe you'd be better off not knowing him-Tre."
"Hey hey hey, I don't use Loves anymore!" Tre pouted. "I'm a big boy now!" I stared at Tre. "See, BJ? You're little girl's ALREADY looking my sexy self!"
"Sick-ass, I would never," I said. "You're...how do I put it...eccentric. Self-explanatory. A full-blown freak. Maybe bi? I dunno."
Ramona fell on her butt laughing, and Stella grabbed onto my arm to keep from doing the same.
"What?" Billie Joe asked, setting the luggage on the trolley-thingie.
"I feel like a tourist," I answered. "I can't believe I ever wanted to leave here." Billie Joe froze. "You...don't want to come with us?"
"No no no, that's not what I meant, Dad. It's just...London's so beautiful, I don't ever want to leave." Then, my phone started ringing and so did his, mine to London Bridge, my best friend's favorite song-that's the only reason it's on there- and his to Teenage Lobotomy. "Speak girlay!"
"Amiiii," Lika droned, "Where are youuu?"
"Stop talkin' like a damn baby, fer one, and second, I'm at LIA."
"Whaaattt?? What're you doin' there?"
"You did'n know? My parents did'n tell you? I'm moving to California, Li-I'm going to the United States!"
I knew Lika's jaw was dropped. "What? Ami, why? How could you do this? I don't understand."
"Lika, please, you gotta understand why I'm doin' this. I actually have 4 parents-Rob and Sahara-the two you know-and Billie Joe and Adrienne Armstrong."
"So? That gives you no right to leave me here. Billie Joe and all those other people in whatever band it is aren't more important than me."
I snapped. "Know what, screw you Lika-I'm going with my parents. If you can't even respect me for that, I don't need you as a friend. This is good bye, probably-and hopefully-for GOOD." I snapped my phone shut and shoved it back in my pocket. Adie looked over at me; Billie Joe was still on the phone.
"Wow, what a little talker," she laughed, shaking her head.
"I know, I was born that way," I grinned. "Mom-er, Sahara, that is-says my first word was asshole."
"Oh my god, are you serious?"
"Either that, or-by what Dad/Rob says- muck, because I couldn't really say the f word yet."
Adie, er, Mom, looked shocked. "Where the HELL did you learn all this at such a young age?"
"I was raised around metal and hard rock, of course I'd know how to curse."
"Hey, ladies, we gettin' on the plane or what?" Billie Joe hollered over to us, walking in the doors, an airport person pushing the trolley behind him.
"Eh, maybe," I hollered back, smiling. "Ready, mum?"
"Long as you've been born," Mom grinned back, taking my hand and obviously pleased that I'd called her mum.
I gripped the edge of the leather armrest on my first-class seat, digging my nails in.
"Ami, calm down," Mom said, putting her hand over mine. "It's fine, trust me."
"Excuse me, I may be English, but I know what happened in New York with the Twin Towers. I have a BAD fear of flying."
"Shh, some of us ARE trying to sleep," Dad said, kicking the back of my seat. I turned around and glared at him. With one eye open, he glared back.
"Well, I'm sorry I'm afraid of being KILLED," I hissed at him. He snorted and shut his eye again. "Jackass..." He snored and I turned back around. "I swear..."
"I know, I know, he IS a real jackass when he's grouchy, but you'll get used to it, I can promise. I've been with him for 9 years- I should know him PRETTY well by now," Mom laughed.
Nine hours later we arrived at the Berkely airport, where Mike, Estelle, Tre, Ramona, Frankito, Joey, and Jakob were waiting.
"Daddy!" Jakob said, running over to his dad.
"Jake!" he said, picking him up and spinning him around.
"DAD! What about me?" Joey said, running over as well. Dad set Jake on his hip and hugged Joey.
"Hello to you too, squirt," he lauged. Ramona and Stella came over to me.
"Hi, I'm Ramona, and this is Estelle, but call her Stella," Ramona said, sticking her hand out to me. I shook it. "How old are you?"
"I'm nine, born March 3, 1994," I said. "You?"
"I'm nine as well, and I like to celebrate my day of birth on July 4! No, that's not my birthday, I just like July 4th."
"Weirdo."
"I know," Stella laughed. "I'm 8, and like to celebrate my birthday on April 15. That's Joey, though you probably know that, his birthday's in March, too, though he's a year younger than you."
"Yep, and that little kid Uncle Billie's swinging around," Ramona continued, "Is Jakob, September 29, 1998."
"Ami!" Dad hollered over to me. "Come here!"
"Comin', Dad!" I hollered back, and walked back with Stella and Ramona.
"What do ya need? Your diapers changed?" Ramona cracked up. I smiled.
"No, though your dad might, Ramona," Billie Joe countered, "And I want you to meet Jake, Joey, Mike, and-well, maybe you'd be better off not knowing him-Tre."
"Hey hey hey, I don't use Loves anymore!" Tre pouted. "I'm a big boy now!" I stared at Tre. "See, BJ? You're little girl's ALREADY looking my sexy self!"
"Sick-ass, I would never," I said. "You're...how do I put it...eccentric. Self-explanatory. A full-blown freak. Maybe bi? I dunno."
Ramona fell on her butt laughing, and Stella grabbed onto my arm to keep from doing the same.
