Chapter 6: Do you still watch cartoons?
Getting situated was very uncomfortable. My mom kept asking me all these questions. Do you have a girlfriend? Do you play any sports? Do you still watch Cartoons? No, No, and only sometimes.
She showed me my new room. A pink guest room with fluffy curtains. I'm not kidding you. My stepfather bought the house with the help of his mother; she took the liberty of decorating. So everything was so girly.
"I'm sure I could talk to Lillian about painting your room a different color." My mom said. Like I'll be here long enough to have time, I thought. I put on a great big fake smile.
"Gee, thanks mom." I said a little too sarcastically. She smiled dropped.
"Okay, um we'll need to take you clothes shopping," she said.
"Why?" I asked. I had plenty of old band t-shirts and ripped jeans.
"Because your going to a private school now, and thy don't allow ripped clothes or jeans." She said. Horror movie music rang through my head. I had the undying urge to throw my head back and scream.
"Oh," I managed to squeak. My mom kissed my cheek and told me for the four hundredth time how happy she was I was here. She left me to unpack my things which I did. I pulled out some clone and desperately sprayed the air. If only I brought some mold to spice up the place.
I will not cry, men don't cry! Okay so maybe I shed a tear or two. But I think my eyes just had an allergic reaction to all the fucking perfume. I fell asleep in the soft bad covers and didn't wake up until noon the next day. It was Saturday.
When I walked downstairs I heard my step dad and my mom talking.
"He just had some bad luck; he's a really good kid once you get to know him." My mom said. I heard another woman as well.
"Well, if he has any bad luck here I'll have him thrown back to the hell hole he crawled out of." She said. I recognized the voice as my step grandmother. She was a wicked old lady who had it her way or no way. I wasn't allowed to cal her grandma or even her first name, Patricia. I had to call her Miss Malcolm. My step father, Adam, was an ass hole as well but he couldn't come close to his mother.
"Hi," I said. I walked into the living room where they were having iced coffees.
"Troy, your up, comes have something to drink with us." My mom said. I could hear the secret plea in her voice so I did as she asked and took an unwanted seat next to Miss Malcolm.
"It's nice to see you again, Miss Malcolm. Oh and you too Adam." I said, trying my hardest to sound polite. Adam put on his formal smile and nodded.
"Just woke up, I assume. You haven't even brushed your hair yet." Miss Malcolm snorted.
"Actually Ma'am I brushed it already," I said, it was the truth, unfortunately.
"Stop trying to act all formal, you aren't fooling any of us. And it's no longer Miss Malcolm; I changed it back to my maiden name. So it's Lang, but I suppose you can call me Miss Patricia." She said.
"Oh thank you! It feels like Christmas came early!" I cheered. My sarcasm slapped her straight in the face. She scowled at me.
"Just like your father, dumb and loud." She replied nastily. I wanted so badly to scream at her but instead I nodded.
"Yes, I guess your right about that." I agreed. I didn't really agree but it shut her up.
"Troy, why don't you tell Adam and Patricia about your charming cousin Alice?" My mom said, she was very proper when around Miss Patricia.
"Oh yeah, I love that girl. But she went and got her self raped by my good friend Ricky, so I kicked his ass and got expelled. Isn't that sooooo charming." I boomed. Adam narrowed his eyes.
"Troy go to your room." He said. I laughed.
"You're not my father, don't you dare tell me what to do." I yelled. Miss Patricia stood up.
"I'll be leaving now, Jo dear may I suggest a muzzle for your son." She said. She left in a furry leaving me to face my mom and Adam.
"Troy, I know you've been having a hard time going though this transition but that's no excuse for this behavior." Adam said. My mom nodded.
"It doesn't help that you grew up in a house where there was no rules, but here there are rules." She said.
"Like what?" I asked.
"Your curfew is seven O'clock on school nights and nine during weekends. No drinking or smoking, if we get one negative call from school you're grounded for two weeks. No grade under a C. And no swearing." My mom said.
"What, that's unfair. My curfew back at home is midnight!" I fought.
"That was her list, here's mine. You must dress respectfully. You're going to get a hair cut. If you break anything in this house you'll be cleaning it for eternity. And we need to meet any of your friends before you're allowed to 'hang out' with them. Oh and if you act disrespectful to me, Jo, or my mom you'll regret it." Adam snapped. I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah, What ever." I said.
"It'll take time to get use to, but you will." Adam said coldly.
"My dad had rules for me too." I said. My mom raised her eye brows.
"Curfew At midnight, no drinking, and I had to pass all my classes." I said. Those were really the only rules.
"Oh isn't he strict," Adam said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes and went back up stairs. My stupid pink room was much better than that stupid living room. My cell phone began to blare ACDC. I answered it.
"128 help me lane, how can I help you?" I asked. Joey's laughter filled my ears.
"Man, how you holding up?" he asked. I sat up straight.
"Dude, you got to save me. There's no TV, no music, no friends, no swearing, and no rudeness! I can feel my manliness slipping away, don't be surprised if I start hitting on you when I get back!" I whispered in full alert.
"Dude, Calm down, your going to survive. Okay I got good news and bad news." He replied.
"I need some good news." I said. Joey took in a deep breath.
"I'm passing algebra." He said. I rolled my eyes.
"Okay what's the bad news?" I asked.
"I looked up that school your mom is sending you too and it's a private prep school. But it gets worse, The Head Mistress is your Step Grandmother." He said.
"Fuck," I said. Joey sighed.
"Yeah, so if you need some weed after all just tell me where to mail it too." He said.
"Yeah, whatever, I'll talk to you later, man." I said. I clicked the phone off. The pinkness of the walls began to give me a headache.
"I'm going to turn gay in this fucking room!" I shouted.