51Chapter 01
H is for Homework
[Sunday]
"Okay, I.Q. test time!" I stretch my arms out and open up my notebook with my homework on it. Our Chemistry teacher Ms Luz wanted us to answer some I.Q. tests which are fun. She gives the regular chemical equations and stoichiometry stuff for homework, but she usually hands out the I.Q. tests on Fridays so we could have and I quote 'more brain jiggling fun on weekends'.
"First question, 'Some months have 30 days, some months have 31 days, but how many have 28 days?' Oh! That's easy ... Ooooone." I say out loud as I scribble my answer on the page.
"Honey! Are you done with your homework?" I hear my mom call out from downstairs.
"I just started mom!"
"Okay!"
I read the next one. "If you enter with only a match into a cold and dark room which has an oil lamp, an oil heater and a candle in it, which one do you light first?" I tap my pencil on the table and repeat the question to myself. "Oh! the match of course!"
"Are you hungry?" My mom calls out again.
"We just ate dinner!" I yell back, shaking my head.
Silence.
I continue to write my answer, "Maaaaatch ..."
"So are you hungry?"
The tip of my perfectly sharpened pencil snaps as I scribble out the letter H.
"Oh great Ceasar's ghost!" I mutter, and reach out for my eraser that's shaped like a chocolate bar.
"Are you?" My mom asks again.
"MOM! I'm trying to finish my homework!" I yell back in exasperation.
After furiously scrubbing away my smudged letter H, I blow away the bits of eraser on the page just as someone knocks lightly on the door. I look up and see my mom on the doorway. "Hey, hon. How's homework?"
"It's going all right," I shrug my shoulders and go back to my notebook. I rewrite the letter H, looking much neater this time. Satisfied I pick up my broken pencil. My mother watches me in silence as I sharpen it. I touch the tip to my finger, and grin, satisfied with its sharpness. I clear my throat and read the next question.
"Get 1 000 and add 40 to it."
"Oh! A thousand and forty." My mom claps her hands and yells out the answer.
"Mooom! I'm trying to answer my homework ... on my own ... without a calculator and without help from ... anyone."
"You mean me, right? I get it ... You're all grown up and stuff," she says as a she walks across the room and plops down on bed. "I guess you really don't need my help."
I clear my throat and continue reading. "Now add another 1 000."
"Two thousand and forty!"
"Mom!" I groan.
"Sorry," she whispers and mimes the action of zipping her mouth, locking it with an invisible key and then throwing the key behind her back.
"Now add 30. Add another 1 000. Now add 20. Now add another 1 000, now add 10. What is the answer?" I recite quickly.
My mom opens her mouth, but I yell out "Four thousand and one hundred!" before she could say the answer.
"So ... are you done with your homework yet?"
"Almost. Just a few more questions." I answer as I flip to the next page.
My mom smacks her lips noisily, pouts and showily crosses her arms over her chest.
"Mom?" I ask warily.
She gets on her knees and moves toward me (still on her knees) with her hands clasped in front of her, as if begging. I raise an eyebrow, and she makes a whimpering sound. "Please," she says, as she looks up at me with big puppy eyes. Not a good sign. "Pleeease hurry up with your homework."
I stare at her for a few seconds. "Why?" I ask slowly.
"Because!" She raises her hands in exasperation. "I baked a cake for dessert and I want you to taste it! It's really really good."
I grin at my mom. She's just absolutely adorable. Annoying, but adorable.
"I expect you to be down in … a minute."
Now, she's back to annoying. "Mom," I begin, but she's already out the door.
"You have fifty seconds left!" I heard her call from the top of the stairs. I couldn't believe she keeps track of the time like that. "Forty seconds!"
"I'm coming, Mom!" I try to answer the next question but my mom keeps calling out the time left for my to get down and eat that stupid cake.
"Eight seconds!"
"Coming!"
I shut the notebook and rush out the door, skipping two steps of the stairs at a time.
"Four! ... Three ... Two ... One."
"It's gone!" I half-yell half-gasp when I see the empty plate with only traces of cake crumbs left on the table. "What did you do?" I shriek at my older brother Mikey as I watch him chuck his fork into the last slice of cake on his plate.
"What did I do?" he asks shoving a bit of cake into his mouth. My hands fly up to my head and pull at my strands of black hair before I yell, "Mom!"
"I gave you sixty seconds, honey," my mom answers from the kitchen. I groan and slam fist on the table, hitting a fork that's sitting on my mom's handmade table mats.
"Ow!" I yelp, and hold my hurt hand to my mouth.
"Sorry, you're too late," Mikey shrugs, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
I frown and then try to reach for his plate. Who cares if he had already taken a bite? I wanted cake!
But Mikey is faster than I am and he quickly ducks my lame attempt at snatching his dessert.
"MOM!" I scream, stomping my feet on the floor.
"Mom!" Mikey says in a high-pitched voice, trying to mimic me. I stick my tongue out at him before reaching for my chemistry book sitting on the dinner table. But before I could throw it at him, my mom walks into the dining room with a plate of another slice of cake.
I forget all about my brother and happily skip to my mom.
"Oh no, dear. This is for your dad. He's working late today."
Mikey cackles hysterically as I stare at my mom wide-eyed. What kind of mom is she?
"Besides, you're getting a bit chubby there, love," she says as she squeezes my cheek, and then hurries off back into the kitchen.
Oh. That kind of mom.
I glare at my brother and I don't hesitate to lunge for the chemistry book again to throw at him. But he escapes into the living room and I'm too frustrated to go after him. I pace around the room a bit because I have nothing else to do (except for the rest of my homework still sitting on my desk up in my room) and also because I'm plotting my revenge against my brother. If only he was more like my older sister Petunia. But she's in college now, and the next time I would see her would be in Thanksgiving. She's lucky to have gotten a scholarship to study in England while I'm stuck here with my idiot brother. But at least he would be graduating soon and I'd be a junior by then.
"Could you get that?" Speak of the devil ...
I drag my feet across the floor, making my way to the front door. Meanwhile, someone is cruelly pressing the doorbell over and over and over and over and ...
"I'M COMING!" I yell.
"Well, you better hurry! The pizza's getting cold!" A voice answers back.
I sprint to the door realizing who was murderously ringing the doorbell. "Chris!" I yell animatedly, as I open the door to let my best friend in.
She greets me with a scowl. "What took you so long?"
"It's nice to see you too!" I grin at her.
She huffs, blowing her green-dyed bangs away. Chris tucks a lock of her real un-dyed red hair behind her ear and then hands me the pizza. "Here." Or rather shoves the pizza into my arms.
"What are you so mad about?" I grin at her. Chris is so funny when she's mad.
"You opened the door late."
I laugh and she continues to glare at me.
"The pizza got cold!" she throws her hands up in the air. "You know I hate cold pizza! It's not the same as hot pizza!"
"No it's not," I shake my head. That is just ridiculous. Chris would eat anything. Including cold pizza. She's probably frustrated about something else, but I'd have to ask her about that later because she is already dragging me to the living room.
"Hey! You!" Chris yells at Mikey.
"Aw, seriously? What is she doing here, Jesse?" Mikey frowns at Chris. I notice that Mikey still hasn't finished the cake. It's now sitting all alone on the coffee table in the middle of the room.
My mouth starts to water at the sight of it, despite of the cold pizza in my hands. I know my mom can be adorable AND annoying AND insane, but she also makes the best cakes in the world. I start to regret holing myself up in the room trying to scribble answers into my notebook when I should have just listened to my mom when she wanted me to get down to the kitchen and eat that soft ... luscious ... creamy ...
"Earth to Jesse?" Mikey bumps his fist on my forehead twice, like his knocking on it. I mean ... well, he is knocking on my forehead.
"Knock it off!" (Excuse the pun) I growl at him and swat his hand away.
"I just asked you a question," he clicks his tongue and wiggles his eyebrows. "But you just took off again somewhere."
I look sideways at Chris. And she shrugs. Okay, you see, I have this problem concentrating when I talk to people. My mind just goes off wandering around ... Like right now.
"What question?" I shake my head to focus on Mikey.
"What is she doing here?" he points his chin at Chris who snorts.
"Uh. Didn't you remember? Today's Sunday!" I roll my eyes at him.
He raises his eyebrow hinting at his absolute cluelessness.
"It's Sunday," Chris repeats, like it would enlighten him.
Mikey rises from his chair and raises his hands, holding the plate of cake. "Whatever. You guys don't make any sense. I'm going up to my room."
I stick my tongue out at Mikey as he passes me. He makes a face at me and takes the plate of cake on his other hand, keeping it away from me protectively. "The cake's coming with me."
"Get outta here!" Chris shoves him and he stumbles forward.
We laugh and jump onto the couch. I love having Chris around.
Chris flicks the TV on and I plop the box of pizza on the coffee table. We always did this during Sundays, watching University for Stars ... it's kind of a game show about kids auditioning to enter this school where they get to study to become actors and singers and stuff. But it has many twists like for example, they have to crawl into cannons and get shot out of it during PE or sing on this platform in a pool full of piranhas during Math or recite the alphabet while performing ballet dances in English class. It's a really crazy show and that's why we love it so much. My other three best friends: Kimi, Jan and Tony would usually watch it with us but today they're MIA.
"Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!" Chris and I chant as I press the ON button on the remote. I squeal when the theme song of our favorite show plays and Chris starts laughing hysterically while slapping my shoulder repeatedly. I scoot a few inches away from her. Chris has this really bad habit of hitting stuff when she gets excited. And if you weren't careful, you'd either end up with a black eye or a mouth full of missing teeth if you get in her way.
And as if to prove my point, Chris jumps out of the couch and slaps me in the face when one of her favorites got accepted into the University.
"Ow, Chris!" I yell, rubbing my sore cheek.
"Sorry!" she apologizes sheepishly. "I got excited."
Told you so.
"Hey, girls."
I look up to see my dad. With the plate of cake especially reserved for him in hand.
"Hey, dad!" Stupid cake. Stupid 60-second limit.
"Hey Mr Rogers!" Chris greets my dad and then opens the box of pizza. She wrinkles her nose and I laugh. I could read what her mind may be thinking at the moment: Stupid cold pizza.
Half way through the show, I realize that I have to go pee. But the moment I get up, the announcer starts talking about Frederick Janssen. I jump back into my seat and Chris giggles.
Yes, Chris actually giggles. Because of Frederick Janssen. Frederick Janssen makes all girls giggle.
That's because Frederick Janssen is such an amazingly beautiful boy with raven black hair and cool gray eyes. But it's not just about the looks, he's also one of the nicest people on the show. And he could sing! He could sing!
I bite my lip, trying to hold it in. But I couldn't any longer so I get up and hop around the room.
"What are you doing?" Chris' eyebrow pokes upward.
"I have to go pee," I reply, balancing on my right foot.
"Then go pee!"
"I can't!" I cry and jump onto my left foot.
"Ah, Frederick Janssen," she grins at me knowingly. "He makes all girls hold their pee." And that sends her into a fit of laughter.
"Shut up!"
Chris turns her attention back to the TV and I continue jumping, skipping, and hopping around the room.
"Ugh! Jesse! Go pee! I can't watch Frederick Janssen with you doing that!"
"I need to see what happens to him!" I yell at her.
"Ugh!" Chris groans, bumping the back of her head against the back of the couch.
We continue watching for a few moments, until finally it is the judges' turn to speak. The first judge says Frederick is in. I stop jumping when the second judge says that Frederick had potential but that he wasn't good enough.
"Aw, come on!" Chris yells at the TV and then throws a pillow at me.
"Ooomph," I fall on the floor and Chris laughs at me while bumping her fist on the arm of the couch. I throw the pillow back at her and continue to hop like crazy.
"I'm sorry, Frederick," the third judge begins, and Chris and I shut up and hold our breaths. "I'm kidding! Welcome to the University!"
And with that I make a run for the bathroom.
Author's Note: Whoa! It's been a long time! And I'm starting over again with this story because I wanted to edit it, and I kind of forgot how the story went. So now, I'm editing as I'm going and hopefully, the story's going to be better this time. I think I like this chapter so much more than the one before :) And I'm really excited to start writing again! Yay!
To all the guys who've read my story before, please bear with me. I really want to improve the story as I go, and there will be parts that I'm going to keep, so it may seem repetitive, but I'm also going to add some new stuff too :)