Someone Who Cares

Chapter 1

"Get your ass down here NOW!"

I sighed and threw the blankets off my legs and ran down the stairs, not bothering to do anything with my hair or my clothes. Keeping Dad waiting was not a good idea.

"What happened? Who died? Where's the fire?" I asked Marcus. I had only been home a few hours, having put in a double shift at the diner before coming home to sleep.

"I don't know," Marcus replied with a shrug. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the house was a fucking mess when he came home last night."

"Oh great," I muttered as I strode into the kitchen. Dad was standing amidst the piles of dirty dishes stacked on the counters and in the sink.

"Care to explain this?" he asked, gesturing to the mess. "I thought I told you that it was supposed to be clean by the time I got home yesterday afternoon."

"It was clean when I left at three," I replied. "It's not my fault Marcus and Miranda destroyed the house while I was gone. Maybe if you got mad at them for a change, things might be different around here."

I heard a snicker from behind me, and I glared at the smirking twins, who were obviously enjoying this. They knew as well as I did that Dad wasn't going to make them work.

"You knew that when your mother and I started working again, you would be the one responsible for keeping the house clean," Dad said, pointing to me. As usual, there was no mention of the twins.

"And the twins knew that when I was working, they would have to clean up after themselves," I replied.

"I don't remember him saying that," said Miranda. "Do you remember that, dear brother?"

"No," replied Marcus, an evil glint in his eye. "I distinctly remember him saying to make as big a mess as possible and not to worry about it, and that he'd clean it up when he got home."

Dad smirked. "Well, there you go; it looks like you're stuck! Clean up this mess, and then you can go and clean up your room. And, while you're at it, why don't you run the vacuum through the twins' rooms as well?" he said. He brushed past me, having nothing more to say. He whispered something to the twins, and a whoop of excitement assaulted my ears a moment later. Great, I thought. Another day stuck at home all by myself, cleaning up after their messes!

Half an hour later, the twins and Dad had all of their beach stuff together, and before I knew it, they were out the door and I was left all by myself. "Great, besides cleaning up this fucking mess, I also have to find time to eat, sleep and do my homework," I muttered with a sigh. "Well, I'd better get on it."

Three hours later, I collapsed onto the couch, sweaty, exhausted and still in my work clothes, a greasy set of chef's whites that smelled of a deep-fryer and sweat. It's what I get for working in the grossest diner in town. I hadn't bothered to change after work; I was too tired.

I was about to go back to my room and change into something more comfortable for a nice, long nap when the phone rang.

"Why can't people leave me the fuck alone?" I asked no one as I picked up the cordless receiver in the living room. "City morgue, you stab 'em, we slab 'em."

"Rob?" inquired the person on the other end.

"No, you've got the wrong number, this is the tooth fairy," I replied sarcastically. I heard my best friend, Morgan Anderson, giggle.

"Oh, you crack me up," she said with a snort. I rolled my eyes. I sometimes wondered how the hell we're such good friends; we're polar opposites. "How are you doing?"

"I'm tired from working a double at the diner, and I was forced to clean the fucking house before even considering sleep," I replied, trying to stifle a yawn. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go and get some shut-eye before my stepfather comes back with the brats."

"Look, my offer still stands," said Morgan. "Really, my mom won't mind if you come and stay in the guest room. Hell, she'll even clear out the basement so you can have your own place!"

I sighed, feeling weary. Morgan's been offering me a place to stay ever since Dad moved in when I was ten, and that was almost eight years ago. As usual, I had to politely decline; it would break my mother's heart if I ran off without a 'good' reason. Sometimes I hated being a momma's boy.

"I can't Morgan, you know that," I said. I heard Morgan sigh dejectedly, and I could see her face fall. "I'm sorry. I know you want to help, but I have to do this on my own. Mom wants me to wait until I graduate before I even think about moving out."

"I know," Morgan said with another sigh. "I guess I'll leave you to your sleep. We wouldn't want a bitchy Robbie, now would we?"

"No, that would be bad," I agreed, laughing slightly. "Look, I'll call you later, okay? Maybe we can go and see a movie or something; I need to get out of this fucking house!"

"Yeah, sounds like fun," Morgan agreed; I could hear the grin in her voice. "Talk to you later."

"Yeah, see ya," I said before hanging up the phone. A huge yawn threatened to escape as I walked up the stairs to my room. I stripped down to my boxers and flopped facedown onto my bed. I was asleep in moments, a slight trail of drool escaping the corner of my mouth.

I slept the day away; the next thing I remember was being called down to dinner by my mother.

Ah, my mother, bless her heart. She's the only thing keeping me from running off and taking Morgan up on her offer. I love my mom so much; she's raised me on her own since I was three, when my real father ran off to the Bahamas with his secretary. She always seemed to have time for me, even though she worked no less than two jobs for most of my life. Even now, with Dad's income she still has to work two jobs; the twins have expensive tastes.

I rolled out of bed and found a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that were on my bedroom floor. I made my way downstairs, where my mother was cooking dinner.

"Hey Mom," I said, hugging her from behind and kissing her on the cheek. "Is there anything you need help with?"

"No, I've got it covered," she replied with a smile. "Thank you for cleaning up the house today, sweetie. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"It was nothing," I lied. "Can I go to a movie with Morgan tonight? Please?"

"Sure, why not? You work too hard as it is; you need a break, just like the rest of us," my other replied. She fished around in her pocket and then pressed a ten dollar bill into my hand. "Don't tell Stan about it, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed, pressing a finger to my lips to indicate mum's the word. A moment later, my mother called everyone to dinner. We all crowded around the table and enjoyed a delicious meal. Conversation was scarce, which was fine by me; the less I had to do with Dad and the twins, the happier I'd be.

After dinner, I phoned Morgan back.

"So, what movie do you want to see?" I asked.

"The new slasher movie that just came out," Morgan replied immediately. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Of course, I didn't complain; I'd go see a fucking chick flick as long as it meant getting out of the house for a couple of hours.

When I got off the phone in the kitchen, my mother was just getting off her cell. She started rushing around to find her jacket and her nametag. I knew who had called her; it was her work, asking her to come in for yet another shift.

"I'm sorry Robbie, but I have to go in to work," my mother said, throwing on her jacket. "Have fun with Morgan, and don't wait up for me."

"Okay Mom," I said, grabbing my own jacket. By the time I had found my wallet, made sure I was presentable and stuff, my mother was already out the door and warming up her car. I tried to sneak out the back door, but I guess I wasn't sneaky enough.

"Where do you think you're going, Robert?" asked Dad, not looking away from the television screen.

"Out," I replied. "Mom already said I could go to a movie with Morgan tonight."

"I don't see your mother around, and when she's not around I'm in charge," Dad said. My good mood deflated like a balloon. "And I say that you can't go. You need to clean up the kitchen, and then I need you to baby sit the twins."

"Why can't the twins clean it up?" I asked. "And they're almost thirteen, they can baby sit themselves!" I had been baby sitting the brats since I was thirteen, and cleaning the house since I was ten. This was so fucking unfair.

"I don't feel comfortable leaving the twins by themselves," Dad replied. "Besides, I could easily take your car away. After all, I was the one who bought it for you." Ugh, he had been drinking again; he wouldn't lend me twenty bucks, let alone buy me a fucking car.

"That's bullshit," I said. "Mom loaned me the money, and I only have about a hundred dollars left to pay back. You have nothing to do with it, except when your brat's bikes dent the door whenever they fall over. I'm pretty sure you're the one who tells them to park so close to my car, anyway."

"I don't like your tone, young man," he said warningly. "The only reason why I'm not going to tell your mother about this is because it would break her heart to hear that her little boy was back talking to his elders. The least you could do is baby sit for me to keep my silence."

Fucking bloody hell, is he blackmailing me? Why'd he have to bring about my one weak point? Well, the one he knew about.

"Fine, I guess I'll go call Morgan on her cell and cancel," I said with a sigh. I saw the triumphant smirk before I walked back to the phone.

Welcome to my life; I fucking hate it. Anybody wanna trade?

A/N: Well, here we go my first piece…that you know about, at least. I hope anyone who is reading this sends me some honest feedback, and what you give to me, I'll gladly return to you.