-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- Tuck Another Day Off -*- Copyright 2008 by Ellen Hayes. Any resemblance between the writings in this work, and any actual persons or places, living or dead, are purely coincidental, except when used for satirical purposes. This work contains adult situations, adult language, adult concepts, and possibly sex. If you are legally not allowed to read materials containing such things, then you will be breaking the law by reading this. I am not responsible. Continuing to read this document, or storing it or reproducing it in any format means that you explicitly affirm that you are legally allowed to possess and read such materials in your city, county/parish, state, and country. All rights reserved. See the bottom for distribution rights. Tuck Another Day Off *** 06:00 19 Nov "Bedoop!" "Nnnngh." *** 06:01 19 Nov "Bedoop!" "Nnnnn!" I had to piss. *** 06:02 19 Nov "Bedoop!" I REALLY had to piss. *** 07:16 19 Nov "Man, I don't know why they let you go to school anyway; you've got everything you need to stay home and be a housewife," Brian sneered. "Oh, sorry, I thought you LIKED eating breakfast, dork-boy," I mentioned as I grabbed his plate back and held it over the In-Sink- Erator and threatened the sandwiches with a large knife. He'd been slow and/or stupid enough to let me have the plate, but nobody in this family was ever stupid enough to try and challenge a knife from the front. "Aw man!" he whined instead, "I was just kidding! Even your girlfriends said you oughta be a housewife!" "My what? When?" "They were talking about marrying you and stuff," he said, his eyes bulging towards his imperiled breakfast. "One Sunday after you cooked. Come on, Tuck, please?" I handed his plate back to him, and he snatched it, almost losing a BLOTCE off the edge, but by tilting the plate wildly he managed to keep it on as he scuttled off. I was about to curse him for being an ungrateful wanker when he whined, "Thanks!" at about the same time Mom came in. She glared at me, so I put the knife in the sink as if I wasn't wanting to stab or slash anyone with it, and she went to the coffee machine. I realized, not for the first time, that if I could hold the coffee hostage in the morning, I could have some real power over my parents. Then I remembered, not for the first time, that if I tried it, I'd be severely beaten. This was the reason I hadn't tried it more than once; it had hurt the first time, and as usual I'd been told it would be worse if there was a next time. *** 07:53 19 Nov It was a nice, quiet family breakfast, like we hardly ever had, right up until Dad said, "By the way, do you remember that you're fiscally responsible for the cellular phone minutes if it's not an emergency?" "Uh, yeah," I lied. "Just, y'know, when the bill comes in, let me know so I can check." Auditing this sort of thing was never a bad idea, because Dad would, and had, lied about similar stuff in order to teach us lessons. He'd admit it after we paid it, and he'd give us some back, but not all of it. This was because, as he put it, "I'm an asshole, but not nearly as much of one as any bank or other business would be." Well, something like that. *** 08:03 19 Nov "So," Mom asked after Dad had cleared the table and taken the dirty plates back. "What were you planning to do today?" "Sleep, I think," I thought. And added, "I got rid of the extra eggs." I'd overbought by a few dozen on Sunday. "And thank you very much," Mom smiled. "I thought you might be tired of eggs, though, after the egg foo you did." Which I was eating, along with a BLOTCE of my own. *Heh, egg fu,* I thought. *Egg fujitsu.* "Not yet," she told me, "though I'm not doing eggs again tonight. But they're all gone anyway. By the way, are you cooking tonight too?" "Not on my chore list," I reminded her, and she frowned. I thought, and was half-hoping, she'd offer some bonus money for me to cook here tonight, but she didn't; she just sucked at her coffee some more. "So you're cooking tonight, right?" Dad said as he came back in. "Not on my chore list," I repeated. "What about for five dollars?" "Bill!" "Ten," I said, figuring I could get at least seven. "Eugene!" "Six." "Bill!" *** 08:11 19 Nov I wasn't cooking tonight - Dad and I had lost - but I was going back to sleep. Dad was working here today, but that wasn't going to be a problem. *** 10:20 19 Nov "Oh, no reason," I answered, hoping my heart wasn't pounding so hard that Dad could see my neck arteries pulsing. He looked at me for a while, then pulled a pile off the other chair. "Wanna sit and watch?" I used to do that, when I was really little, until I'd started typing, and then when I was out sick I'd do some light coding near Dad so he could monitor me, which is why his office had another chair in it. So did his office at the shop, come to think of it. The terminals I'd used had been cannibalized long ago, though. "Heh," I smiled. "Um, yeah, if you don't mind." "Just don't throw spitballs or anything at me." "Who me?" I'd only done that once, and I'd only gotten two off before getting slammed in the lower leg by a stick I hadn't known was there. "I'd never do such a perfidious thing!" "Again," he said flatly, and then gave me a psycho grin for a second, before he turned back to his computer. There was even a blanket here, hardly even buried under the magazines. I tried looking for the stick, but I couldn't see it. *** 11:48 19 Nov "Tucker." "Nnnngh." Someone had been bothering me incessantly, and I was finally enraged to the point I opened my eyes. "Wha?" "I've gotta go in for a while." "Problem?" "Not really," he said, making a face. I gathered it was one of those work things that you had to do occasionally, like fill in for a not-fired-yet employee, or reset the traps, or something. "Ahhhh. Okay," I agreed, getting up. There wasn't much point in staying here if he wasn't here, and my nose was running too, probably from the dust. I almost mentioned cleaning the place before I realized that he'd counter-suggest that _I_ do it. "What're your plans for the rest of the day?" "Um..." I wiped my nose with my hand, making my dad wince and hand me a paper towel. I wiped myself off, then blew my nose, then said, "Antihistamines." "Good idea. After that?" "There is nothing in my life besides the desire for antihista- hiss-" Dad ducked out of the way before I exploded, which he didn't need to do because I had the paper towel. "Haircut, then I dunno," I told him after I'd finished. "Good luck, don't leave evidence." He chuckled, as he got ready to leave. *** 13:27 19 Nov I sort of wished I'd had time to eat lunch, but I hadn't; I had to shower and stuff at home, then go to Rachel's, change, then go to John's salon. Which happened to be named 'John's', which I was going to remember. Besides, I HAD eaten breakfast, which was unusual enough. *** 13:45 19 Nov "Valerie?" I looked up and it was John himself, finally. "Uh, yeah," I admitted as I narcolyzed the laptop and zipped the case around it. "Where'd you steal that?" "I-" He was teasing me, I realized. "On advice of counsel I refuse to answer that question." "GOOD answer!" *** 13:48 19 Nov "Uh, John? Debbie was, like, trading in breast forms for me," I mentioned quietly. "Yeah?" "So do I like need a new pair?" "Show me what you've got now," he ordered, so I pulled up my sweater and showed him what I had now. With a top over it, at least. "I think I do," I remembered; because that's why I'd added the sweater. "Did you lose weight?" "Yeah. That's why I need smaller ones." "Well good for-" "While I was in the hospital, after some kids at school tried to kill me." I wanted to stop this 'good for you' business immediately. Pause. Now I felt a little bad for him. "I'm trying to gain it back, but I can't eat that much that fast." "Oh I WISH I had that problem," he sighed. "What? You look good!" He did, pretty much. "I have to exercise EVERY day, doll," he complained. "It's HELL. And I'm dating a COOK." "Ooooh. Tough," I winced. Not that I really had that problem myself, because Mom wouldn't stay home and cook three meals a day, nor would I be there to eat them, but I could sort of empathize. When Mom busted her ass, which did not happen every day, I always wanted to be there to eat the results. He sighed again, then ordered, "Stand up!" *** 13:51 19 Nov "Ow, I don't have that much cash," I complained. Or, I wouldn't after I paid him for the haircut. Which he'd probably prefer. "How about, since I have to get 'em anyway, that you bring me the fifty sometime soon and we'll trade then. And CLEAN them this time?" "Deal," I agreed. "Thursday? I can get the money..." He chuckled. "Feeling a little self-conscious, hon?" "Just a bit," I said, remembering what I'd looked like in the mirror that time I looked. "Yeah." Now I wanted to hunch over and put my arms over them or something. *** 14:13 19 Nov "So, with the school thing, did you call the cops on the people that hit you?" "Oh yeah. I dunno what's gonna happen with that, though. Lawyers and the DA's office and shit. My parents said I shouldn't kill them at this point, with the law involved." He snipped for a while, then said, "Probably a good idea. People would get suspicious if they all disappeared." "And even more suspicious if they all turned up at school, impaled on stakes and screaming their throats out." "Ow! Girl you are VICIOUS!" he exclaimed, which made me smile. "Oh, I try," I said in a girly way, and forced a giggle. He snorted. *** 14:24 19 Nov "So how's that?" As he deftly removed the sheet, I looked in the mirror. "I think I've seen this haircut before. No, I mean, I like it," I told him. "It works." And it wasn't actually the same haircut, he'd just done something similar to what he'd done before, so I could wear it 'both ways' and look okay either way. It was getting longer, and I thought he'd left almost all the length. I twisted my head back and forth, and it seemed like it was longer; the hair was still slapping my cheeks, but the bangs weren't nearly getting into my eyes any more. "Next time you go on a big date, though, you need to come here. I want to really PLAY with your hair sometime," he threatened, running his fingers through it again. "Haha," I said, before I remembered going out with Pam and Julia. "Well, maybe... Hey, isn't it like insane in here on like a Friday night with everyone doing the same thing?" "Well, we'll see if we can squeeze you in sometime," he said. I think he just wanted some extra money, which with the haircut and the mandatory 'tip' and the boob exchange fee I was not inclined to give him. *** 14:54 19 Nov I had made it to Eastgate Mall - way away from my usual op area and therefore attractive today; I was feeling a little paranoid - before I realized that I would, in fact, like some company if I could get it. I pulled out my cellphone, and looked at it for a long time before I could actually manage to call Mike, though. I really hated the thought of the bill that would be coming, but pay phones were worse, I was sort of sure. And definitely slower, because it'd be a while before Mike checked his answering machine at home. It took several rings before I got, "'Lo?" "S'Tuck. Want to do something? I'm relaxing and stuff, like you said." "Uh. Where are you?" "Eastgate Mall." "Why are you all the way out there?" "Because it's not near school, duh." "Wanker. Ummmm... wait one." I waited, irritated, but it was less than one before he came back with, "Can Pam come?" "Uh, yeah, sure..." I hadn't figured on Pam, but what the hell. "Anyone else?" "No, I killed 'em all." "Good deal. Need an alibi?" "Nah. Forty minutes, out bye," #click#. "Efficient, I like that," I said, before realizing that he had no idea where I'd be. And a mall was a large place. "Let's see how long it takes him to call back." *** 15:11 19 Nov "Damn!" *Maybe I should go back and get those replacement boobs NOW.* I still looked overly pornographic. "Ummmm..." I decided to try on the sweater top I'd snagged, because I could use some more like it. *** 15:14 19 Nov "Oh yeah," I nodded at myself. "Way better." And it made me look way smaller, or at least way better proportioned. Well, somewhat. *** 15:20 19 Nov "Oooh!" They had those hats I'd been thinking about, the kind of knitted beret-looking ones. I got one, in white, and tried it on, and I felt warmer immediately. "Yeah, like this." Unfortunately, they were twelve dollars each, and... I wanted two. "I don't need two," I told myself. *** 15:43 19 Nov I was wrong; I needed two, plus the gloves. I wanted the white, too, but I didn't have anything to wear with it, like a coat... and I was NOT going to buy a new coat just to match the stupid hat. The THIRD stupid hat. Especially not after I'd bought the gloves to match the red one already. And two sweater-blouses. And a belt. And a skirt that was really discounted, down to nine dollars. It had a small tear or something around the hem, which was why it was on the 'please buy it so we won't have to ship it somewhere else' rack, but I could've ripped it like this in the first ten minutes I was wearing it anyway. And that was when my cellphone started beeping in my purse. *** 15:49 19 Nov We met about halfway, and Pam went, "Ooooh, lemme look! Turn around!" So I turned around for her, showing off about half the stuff I'd bought because it went on over what I was already wearing, mostly - or had gone - which I'd done because I was unusually cold. Maybe it was just the lack of long underwear. Mike looked disgusted when I rotated back around. "You are SICK," he announced. "What? She looks good!" Pam protested. "Where did you get all that?" Mike mimed retching. "Shut up Mike." Like he knew anything. He was wearing a white T shirt, plaid shirt, fatigue pants, sneaks, and an M-65 jacket; exactly what anyone who'd known him for a month would've guessed he'd be wearing. Pam, on the other hand, looked good, with heeled boots and a mid-calf skirt, and a sweater top kind of like the one I wasn't wearing, with flowers on it, and a longish jacket or shorter coat. And it was not what she'd been wearing the last nine times I'd seen her, unlike some Mikes I could name. *** 16:02 19 Nov "I needed some more stuff!" I told Mike, again. "Girls need more clothes. Hey," I said to Pam, "aren't you getting anything to eat?" She'd only gotten a small diet coke. "Oh, no, I need to be eating at home," she said. I looked at Mike's tray, which was tolerably full. "Think you could convince HIM of that?" If Pam said anything, I lost it, because Mike announced, "NO." Quite loudly too. "You're just saying that because you're a pig," I told Mike. "You sure?" Pam nodded. "But you're getting- ahh," Mike nodded as he saw my shake appear. I needed one. A big one. He walked off and we followed, as he commented, "You should get- No, you two should get two straws and share that one, like in a 50s movie. That'd look sick," Mike said, sounding satisfied. Pam protested, "But tha-" before she got the joke, or the 'sick' part, and then laughed. "But Mike, I'd MUCH rather make kissy-face at YOU," I cooed at him. "You do that and I will make the extreme sacrifice of stuffing one of these burgers up your ass." "Bu-" "And then take your wallet and buy a replacement." "You ain't big enough for that, slant-eye!" "Wanna bet?" He lunged forward and slid into a booth. "Shaddup, siddown, an' eat. Or suck." He laughed, but managed to keep from verbalizing the rest of the George-ist comment that we all heard anyway. *** 16:05 19 Nov "Oh yeah, I like it," Pam nodded, as I showed her the other sweater top I'd gotten. "That's 'cause you're wearing it," Mike said. "Ow," Mike said as I kicked him. "You gotta forgive him, he's on the rag today," I told Pam. I wish I'd known she was sipping out of her drink at that exact moment before I said anything; she might not have sprayed Mike with diet coke. Naturally, Mike complained, wiped his eyes, and then began damage control on his food. *** 16:07 19 Nov Unfortunately, Pam had somehow managed to get half of the mouthful on her own sweater. I'd had the thought that maybe she ought to get lessons from Stella, about how to do it right, but decided not to mention it. Luckily, I did have a spare sweater top I could loan her, and what she had been wearing was washable. If we had a washing machine, which we all sort of did but not with us. So the stain ought to come out eventually. She opened the stall door and sighed, "Thanks." "No problem," I said. "How bad is my hair?" "Um..." It was not as good as it had been. *** 16:11 19 Nov "He was-" He'd moved while we were in the ladies' room, I figured out. We'd done it often enough to Susan when we thought she was taking too long, on the rare occasions we could convince her to drive us to a mall. Which was probably one of the reasons it was rare, come to think of it. I looked around, and finally spotted him; he was trying too hard to hide, is what did it. "He's over here," I said as I started that way. Pam said, "He really IS on the rag today." "Yeah..." As we sat down again, I realized that the booth would be sticky and almost successfully aborted before I realized that this was a different booth and then realized that's probably why he had moved, except that didn't explain why he'd moved to the opposite end of the seating ar- "Ow," I realized, a bit late, and slid into the booth. And rubbed my ribs, which I had overstretched by trying to move and stay still at the same time. "What are you doing?" Mike asked. "String of interrupt servicings," I told him. "What are YOU doing? I mean, you seem like you're pissed off or something." "Fu- Um. Lemme think about it," he said, and bit savagely into a burger. I looked at Pam, who was raising her eyebrows as she turned to look at me. "Thanks for loaning me the sweater," she smiled. "Oh, sure, no problem. I'll wash yours if you wash mine," I offered, and she sort of giggled at that. I'd already rinsed it out in the sink, thinking acid had to be a bad thing to leave on for several hours, but it really needed the full treatment. "I'm pissed off," Mike announced, grabbing our attention again, "because I was expecting Tuck, and not a pair of giggling teenage girls talking about clothing and suchlike." "Well-" Pam started. "I had to get a haircut!" I didn't mean for that to stop everything, but it did. And they both stared at me. "Um, John, you know, Debbie's stylist?" I said to Pam. She nodded. "He, uh, he sells these too," I told Mike as I prodded the boob that was away from Pam and, hopefully, anyone else observing. "And Debbie said I should look into smaller ones." Mike made a face, then started to go 'ah', then made a worse face. "That almost makes SENSE!" he shrieked, at me. "And THAT'S what's WRONG!" "Oh." Now I got it. "What?" Pam asked, like Mike was being unreasonable. "I think I was- I mean, Mike was thinking, I'd be more butch today..." He started to say something but stopped it and nodded. "And it's sort of..." Mike finished, "Pissed him off. I know, there's no difference, but there is." "Um, I- Oh!" She got it. "Um, do you want me to go... Damnit!" she hissed. "I miss my car!" Mike shook his head. "It shouldn't be a big deal, not THAT big a deal, I mean... I should be able to come up with something to divert h- her." "As soon as you finish stuffing your cheek pouches." "Might be a famine soon, you never know," Mike pointed out, and stuffed some more into his cheek pouches. "Well, I mean, do you want to do something? With Val?" Pam asked Mike. "At the moment," I answered for Mike, "he wants to eat. We'll see, after a little bit of digestion. Ingestion and digestion," I corrected. "Manly men need lots of manly food," Mike said after he'd swallowed most of it. "Which doesn't explain why you nee- Ow!" I didn't know why he'd taken so long. "Really, are you feeling okay?" "Yeah, except what I said," he said, as he glared at me for a few seconds. "It's your burger that's causing all this," I lied. "Damn burger, I'll show IT," he declaimed before ripping another chunk out. "Nine hit points." Mike grinned at me as he chewed, but thankfully kept his mouth closed. "What?" "Geek joke," I assured Pam. "Um, but you're here, so we need to include you... What?" I asked Mike, because he was waving a hand. "B- O-O-K-S-T-O- You wanna go to a bookstore?" I asked Pam. "You know a cheap one around here?" I asked Mike when I thought he was near the end of this wad. Malls were not a good place to buy books. "Think so," he nodded. "Would you mind if I look around a little here first, though?" Pam asked. "How much did that hat cost?" *** 16:25 19 Nov "Oh, come on, Mike, it'll just be a few minutes." I hoped. "Unless she sees something else she likes, and then something else, and..." "Do you wanna just-" "Nahhh," he sighed. "Just... I dunno. Damnit." He looked at the bathroom door, I guess to see if Pam would come back through it. "Even this takes longer. Hey, how come you aren't in there?" "'Cause my hair's okay, and I already put on some more lip gloss." Also because I sort of figured Mike needed me - for really small and uncertain values of 'need' right now - more than Pam did. "'Cause of the hat?" "Yeah. And, see, if she gets one, maybe it'll speed things up in the future?" "I wish it was so, but it is not so. This I know." I frowned at Mike. "Are you in a poetry thing in English class again?" "Just feel vaguely... I dunno. Poetic, like I ought to be composing odes or something." "Limericks?" "Heh. No, that'd be George's thing. Or Vogon poetry." "'-Chewed off one of his legs to escape,'" I quoted. "See?" "Yeah, he'd like that," I agreed. We moved out of the way of a gaggle. Mike complained, "So how come she didn't go when she was in there earlier?" "Now, that I don't know," I admitted. "Do you have to-" "No. Do you?" I checked, as best as I could without a gauge, and didn't think I did. "No. Hey, you know, I could go back over to Rachel's and change." Mike thought about it for maybe a second. "No, because then you'd spend all the time running over there, changing, running back to wherever we are, in traffic 'cause it's almost five o'clock, and then everyone's gotta go home for supper or homework or whatever. I thought about this already." "Ah, okay." "Is your mom expecting you for dinner tonight?" "Um." We hadn't really discussed this at breakfast, though we had discussed me cooking it, I remembered. I'd lost. "Oh heh," which was the aborted 'hell', even though Stella and Ricky weren't there, "I dunno." "Maybe you should call." I sighed, and wanted to whine, because I didn't want to waste the money on either a pay phone or the ever-increasing-billable-minutes on the cellphone. "Maybe we just plan for me to be home about seven?" "That might work. When's your mom cooking these days?" "Um." I had no idea of that, either. "I hate you you fucking gook." "Go call." "No! It costs money!" "You just spent fifty bucks on fucking-" "Because I don't spend money on stupid phone calls! Dad reminded me about cellphone minutes and billing today," I warned him. "I'll get home about seven," I tried to reason with him, "and then it'll either be close, or they're eating, or it's still warm." Mike shook his head at me. "Man, your mom..." "I know." But if I was close, it should work. *** 16:39 19 Nov Pam twirled around, her arms up like she was a skater or something, and the skirt flared a little. "Yeah, that looks good, doesn't it?" I asked Mike. Mike was already nodding. "You need to eat more, though; you look too thin," he commented casually. "Need to beef up, like Val here." "I'm not-" "I'm-" "She's TRYING, and she will, I know it," Mike said over both of us. "Just give her time... and more calories." "Lots more calories," I sighed. I needed several tens of thousands of surplus, above and beyond what I needed for daily work. And preferably a lot of protein in the mix too, to build things. "I can show you how to do it," Mike told me. "Um, thanks," I said. I wasn't sincere. "So how come you didn't get more to eat?" he nagged. "Money! Plus I've got supper at home, whenever I get there, plus some leftover ones from, like, other times. Much cheaper, remember?" Mike shook his head at me. "You're disgusting, you know that? How big is your stomach, anyway? Golf ball?" "It's big enough! I just don't work at stretching it like you do, and George does, and Dan does..." I'd watched them at my house often enough lately. "That's what you ought to be doing," Mike said. "Bite my... Hey..." Pam had disappeared. *** 16:43 19 Nov "Uh, Mike?" Pam asked. "Would you mind if I went with Val in her car?" "Wh- Oh. Oh hell," he said. "Two cars." "Awww..." Trying to coordinate two cars to one unknown destination was a pain in the ass. "Lucky for you, though," he said, "I found your car in the parking lot, and so we're real close." He lurched ahead for some reason which had me looking for a threat; then I felt stupid when he held the door open and Pam just sailed right through. "Dork," I said, under my breath so he wouldn't drop the door on me. Plus I was a little breathless. He let go of the door and got ahead again, then offered his arm to Pam, and she took it, and then he glared at me. "What?" He waggled his arm, the other one that Pam wasn't holding, at me. "Oh, uh, thanks," I said, when I got it, and wrapped my arm around his. I wasn't sure why he was doing this, but I was willing to go along with it. "You okay?" Mike asked me. "Sure, no problem," I huffed. *** 16:45 19 Nov "Because, VAL," he emphasized, "you look female enough, that I look like a true stud with you on one side and Pam on the other." Pam, naturally, detached at that. Feeling mildly perverse, I didn't. "Get the fuck off me you roundeye pervert," Mike mentioned casually as he 'unlatched' the arm I was hanging on and started pushing me away with the other hand. "Awww, you never let me have any fun," I mock complained as I let go and started digging through my purse for my car keys. *** 17:01 19 Nov Luckily, most of the traffic on the freeway seemed to be going OUT, while we were going IN. Sort of. And Mike was managing to keep just enough ahead of us that we weren't in danger of ramming him, without ditching us. "Hey, uh, Pam," I said during a lull in the pseudo-racing. "What do you talk about with a therapist?" I'd finally remembered what I wanted to ask her. "What?" Maybe I should actually try to give a hint about the sort of information I wanted. "Oh, I mean... I, my parents make me go to this therapist, for stuff... and, so, I- we talked last time about what, I mean, what therapists do or what patients do or whatever, and so I was wondering, you said you'd been in therapy right?" I sure hoped I was right; I was going to be terminally embarrassed if I'd fucked this up. "Yeah?" *Oh good. VERY good.* "Um, so, like, what do YOU talk about?" "Well..." "No," I corrected myself, "I mean, if you were me, what do you think you'd talk about? I didn't mean to pry or anything." I did not really want to know what she actually talked to her therapist about. "Oh, I know that," she assured me and patted me on the leg. "Um... Well, I mean, you got attacked, right? I think that would be really important." "Why?" "What?!" "Wh- I mean, I know, it's traumatizing, but I'm dealing with it," I told her. "And, I mean, yeah it sucks, but it's not like it was my fault that they jumped me or anything like that." It was my fault I hadn't gotten away, but they hadn't killed me, so I was smarter now. "It sucks, but..." "Didn't Kim say you were having a lot of nightmares?" "I was having those when school started. This year's been bad," I admitted. "At least for nightmares." "Well, why?" "What? I dunno, really," I admitted. "It's not that much more... well, it is, but I've had times like this before, in my life." "Are the nightmares worse?" "This year?" "Since you got attacked?" she asked, like I should've known that's what she meant. "Uh... no, not really." "Really?" "Not really. I was having, I mean, it's mostly the same things. Sometimes they'll show up, the guys that hit me I mean, but not always, and it's not like anything different happens. In my dr- nightmares now compared to what they used to be like." I shrugged. "I mean, I've been keeping a log, like since before school started, and she- the therapist, she looks at 'em. I don't think they're any different." "Huh." "Well, like, what else would you talk about?" "Um... well, I talk about stuff that stresses me out. Sometimes mine can't do anything about the big things, like my body image being all screwy, but she can help with the smaller things, like, oh, dating and stupid guys and things like that. Like how to be, I mean, how to deal with 'em, things like that. Or school, like how it sucks, maybe things I could do to make it suck less or something. But sometimes I just complain, and she listens, and doesn't tell me I'm stupid or not living up to my potential or anything like that." She stopped. "Sometimes I just miss dance," she said, so quietly I could barely hear her over the car noises. I couldn't hug her right now, because we'd die, but I put a hand on her leg, just above her knee, and squeezed a little. She grabbed my hand and squeezed back. We drove like that for a little while, before she gave me a double squeeze and let go. "So, I mean, sometimes... You know, whatever's bugging you. Sometimes you can ask for advice, if you want it. I've gotten good advice from mine," she said, sounding hopeful. "But, I mean, you don't have to take it, and- like, with a good one, or what I think is a good one, they don't MAKE you do a lot of stuff, they sort of ask you if you want to do it. You know?" she asked. "Kinda," I half agreed. I could see the difference. "As opposed to, say, Mike, who'll make me do shit whether I want to or not." "Yeah, my therapist wouldn't do something like that," she agreed. "But, I mean, what did you do today?" "Sleep, mostly." "Mike said you needed that though?" "Yeah, well..." I wanted to tell her to fuck off and shut her damned mouth, but she wasn't Mike and might take it wrong. "Yeah, I guess. Anyway, back tomorrow anyway. So I won't lose any more school." She sighed and said, "I wish I could do that." "Well, ask your therapist, maybe? Or ask Mike," I realized. "He- Or Debbie. Debbie would be better; Mike just works on me. Or- no, 'on me' is a good way to say it." I was still a tad resentful when I thought about it, I discovered. *** 17:19 19 Nov "Oh, hey, I still have your nightgown," Pam mentioned as we were walking up to the little hole-in-the-wall bookstore Mike had found. I swear, he could smell them, and from miles away too. Or maybe he'd just memorized the yellow pages section. "Want to- I mean, how should I get it back to you?" "Um, what about through Sabrina? Or Kim? If it's clean, you could either give it to me or Mike when you go home." "Oh it's clean, I washed it last night," she told me. "Hey thanks." "Did he wait for us?" "Mike? With a BOOKSTORE right there? No. Never." *** 17:28 19 Nov "'Cause, I need to reread 'Combat Psychology', and you know how Dad is about letting manuals out of the house." "Uh, Tuck, you could just read it at home?" "Yeah, in my copious free time? Besides, doing it at the Parkers actually makes sense," I told him before he could go off on some sort of rant about my free time or lack thereof. "Ask your dad; he might let you take it out if it wasn't going to be at school," he suggested. Dad hadn't in the past... "Nnnnn, maybe..." The manual was six dollars, which I could easily spend elsewhere. On the other hand, it was right here... and the problem with a used bookstore was, what was here NOW might not be here in ten minutes, much less a week. *** 17:58 19 Nov "Oh, no, Mike!" He had a stack he needed both hands to carry. "Aw come on, Tuck!" he pleaded. "I don't have any money!" "You just bought clothes, I saw you!" he accused. "And NOW," I emphasized, "I don't have any money!" "I'll bet you five more dollars you've got money," he dared. "I have fines to pay off!" "What, still? How much are you making again?" A truthful answer would just feed right into his argument. "Not enough!" I said instead. *** 18:02 19 Nov After we'd completed negotiations, Mike was going to pay me for the interest fees I'd accumulate if I didn't get the fines paid in time, and I was going out to an ATM, which we'd looked up the locator number in a phone book and found the nearest one. "Do you guys always do that?" Pam asked me as she came outside. "Do- um, sometimes," I sighed. "Mike REALLY likes books," I mentioned, in case she'd missed that. "And so..." I shrugged. "It's okay, though; he'll loan them to me when he's done, if they don't suck." "What if they do- Then he doesn't loan them to you and you know they suck and you don't have to read them to find out," she grumbled, apparently at herself by the way she smacked herself in the head. "Right. And we dump them onto another bookstore, to get at least a little of the money back." Very little, except at the one we usually went to, which did trades, which was why we usually went to that one. "And on the rare occasions I get one he didn't vet, I do the same thing." "Vet?" "Um... means to check out. I don't know where it's from. British?" "Oh okay." "So did you like look at, um, the first one yet? The ones I loaned you?" I couldn't remember what it was called. "'Magic's Pawn'? A little bit, like maybe the first couple of chapters. It seems kind of, I mean a little dull," she said, "so far." "Heh. Keep reading, that's all I'll say on that one. Um, why are you coming? I mean you can, I just wondered," I said, as I unlocked the Pam-side door so she could get in. She waited until I got in to answer, "Oh, I mean, it's kind of neat in there, and I got a couple, but... I mean, I looked at some, and, um, I don't think I read as many as you and Mike do, so-" "Sane people don't read as many books as Mike does," I chuckled. "What about you?" I started the car and did other driver things for a while, so I could think up with a good response, and finally said, "Sane people don't program as much as I do." She made a noise that indicated appreciation of my humor. "So how come you're coming?" "Oh, just, I kinda wanted to talk to you, instead of staying there," she sighed. "Oh, I mean, if it's boring... we'll be leaving as soon as I get back anyway. Oh hell," I realized, too late. "I just promised to get money and then left him alone in a bookstore. Oh man. I hope he cleaned his car out recently or they aren't gonna fit." At least he had some tendency to prioritize things; and if he could keep up with a calculator what the clerk was doing with the register, he'd tailor his purchase down to the sales tax. Pam laughed at me, which I guess I deserved. I just sighed. *** 18:19 19 Nov I hadn't realized I had quite this much money; but then, I had to start Christmas shopping too. "Aw, hell." And I'd just been at a mall. "What?" All of a sudden, I didn't want to tell her; what if I was expected to get gifts for ALL my friends? I'd have to take out a loan from Dad; and interest on LOANS, as opposed to unpaid fines and the like, was HUGE. "Um, nothing. I just remembered I have to do laundry at home tonight," I lied. *** 18:34 19 Nov "Hey, how about we head over to Rachel's," I suggested, "I change, and then we go over to my house?" "Sounds good," Mike agreed. We both looked at Pam. *** 18:36 19 Nov "You know, it's actually nice- I mean," Pam changed, "I thought Mike would be... I dunno." "Typical male jerk, always hitting on you or making sexual references, that sort of thing?" I guessed. "Yeah!" "I HATE being typical," Mike said, startling Pam, who I guessed hadn't known he was right there. I had, which is why I'd said it. "Oh god I didn't mean to say that," Pam spazzed at Mike, as Mike was waving it all off. "No problem," Mike told her, though we both knew she had meant to say it, just not where Mike could hear it. "I could be like that, if it'd make you feel more comfortable," THEN he turned it on, leering at her, for about two seconds, before he just as obviously turned it off. That made her laugh. Me too, actually; it was kind of sick. "No, I mean... if there's one thing Tuck's insanity with, y'know," she nodded that she did know, "that it taught me, is that girls can be cool. Which they weren't for years, based on Tuck's sister," he elaborated. "Amy?" "No," I explained, "Amy's my cousin. Susan's my sister... and I think she's been replaced by a alien pod lifeform, 'cause she wasn't nearly as nice as she is now before she left for college." Pam smiled at that. "She used- Susan used to be a real bitch, as well as..." "Just utterly stereotypical teenage girl," I finished. "Nothing in her head but boys, clothing, hair, makeup, and social events. I mean NOTHING," I emphasized. "And anything we did, like family stuff, she HATED." "The only thing good about her," Mike added, "was that she was susceptible to bribes sometimes, so we didn't have to bus or bike it all the time; we could just pay her to take us out to a mall or bookstore or something." "Sometimes," I grumbled. "And she was a bitch about that plenty of times," Mike agreed. "You," he said, facing Pam directly, "seem to be a HUMAN BEING, not a, a demographic walking around. You have interests, a sense of humor, some intelligence-" "Some?" she said, raising her eyebrows in a 'you just fell into a trap' look. "Tuck's an idiot savant where some-" "What?!" I complained. Mike continued, "-things are concerned; I usually manage to keep up to him enough to understand him. Shut up Tuck, you used to be a social retard," he said. "We- Fuck you!" "He's still learning," he assured Pam. "Wanker!" "Talk nice in front of the lady, gaijin asshole," Mike admonished me, and casually blocked a hand strike that made my ribs ache. I stopped trying to hit him and just hated him, and my ribs. "You seem to be able to catch up to us when we talk about the stuff WE know about; I'd be willing to bet that you know- that you're as skilled in your fields of interest, as we are in some of ours." Pam looked confused. "That's a compliment of sorts," Mike informed her. "We don't think you're stupid, and deliberately staying that way, like The Rest Of Them," I explained. "As opposed to Tuck's sister, pre-college," Mike nodded, and I nodded. Pam looked dubious. "It really is a compliment," I told her. "Even if we are arrogant elitist pricks, we're saying you can be one of us, and look down at everyone else," Mike said. That made her laugh again, for quite a while. *** 18:55 19 Nov For some reason - maybe I was a social retard - Pam had gone with Mike instead of me, to Rachel's house. As I pulled in - after I'd started first, they'd gotten ahead of me when I got trapped behind an unloading bus - they were still talking about something. *** 18:58 19 Nov "Oh hey kids," Rachel's roommate Dave said to us in this totally gay way. "What's cookin'?" "You tell me," I said back, because something was, you could smell it, plus Dave was wearing a frilly white-if-you-didn't-count-stains apron. "Aw man! Hurry up, Tuck!" Mike complained. "Don't offer him any food, he'll eat it!" I warned Dave as I went up the stairs to Rachel's room. "No! Don't leave me alone with this FAG!" Mike wailed, "I'll start wearing fashionable clothing!" "It couldn't hurt!" Dave shot back, sounding - oddly - much less homosexual. At least, before he said, "That shirt... and those SHOES!" "I knew I picked the wrong-" and then I cut Mike off by shutting Rachel's door. "So," Pam startled me and notified me that she'd followed me up the stairs and into Rachel's room. "Whose is this?" "Wha- Rachel, remember her? The college girl? I'm like renting half her closet or something, through Debbie." "Oh, okay," she said, without leaving. "I have to change now," I warned her. "Yeah, so we can- Should I go home with Mike or what?" "Huh?" She couldn't mean what- "I mean," she shook her head, "what I meant was, um... What are you doing after you change? I mean, are you going home, or-" "I have to go home, catch some food," I told her. "Um, you could come if you want, I guess?" I had a feeling she was sort of hinting that way. "I dunno..." As she thought, or whatever, I realized that I ought to start changing so I could et cetera. *** 19:04 19 Nov "Oh hey," Rachel said as she came in. "Valerie? How are you?" "I'm doing okay," I said, before I realized I hadn't seen her on Sunday, that I recalled. "You didn't come last Sunday, right?" "No, I had to finish this project to turn it in Monday-" "Oh no, you missed it!" Pam gasped. "What?" *** 19:08 19 Nov "Hey Mike, want to go out and see Step- this band, Friday night?" I asked him. Rachel had been going, and Pam wanted to go, and so it just sort of grew, so I thought I'd tell him about it ahead of time. "What, like, with you?" "Yeah? And Pam and Rachel, so far." "Don't you need sleep?" "Miiiiiike, not EVERY night!" I complained. "Come on!" "Ehhhhhhhhh," he grumbled. "They should be done by midnight, Rachel said," I said. "They got like a new gig or something, and they finish early." I had a feeling this wasn't good for the band, as a success thing, but I wasn't going to complain too much, because I DID want to get some sleep in before I went to makeup makeup class. "And then you go home and sleep?" "Crap, Mike, are you channeling my mom?" "No, I think it's mine," he said as he screwed up his face, and for a second I thought he was actually trying to figure out which one it was. "Dork!" I complained when I caught it. *** 19:26 19 Nov "Yeah, I mean, why not? Maybe you can help me eat some of the leftovers again," I mentioned as I carefully maneuvered into my parking spot. Mike had gone home, to eat HIS leftovers; I'd managed to keep a straight face when I told him the pie was all gone. I wasn't sure, though it was very likely. "That was good," Pam remembered. *** 19:29 19 Nov "What the..." The house smelled of fresh hot pie. Again. Or I was hallucinating. Which was more probable. "I thought that might bring you home early," Dad grinned at me. "Hello Pam," he said politely to Pam. "You di-" "Don't be daft, boy; Sarah made a batch." He grinned wildly and rubbed his hands. "Not just one..." I reluctantly decided I wasn't hallucinating. "You're gonna bloat, Dad," I warned him. "Want a piece of pie?" I asked Pam. "Oh, uh, no-" "Eugene, you're late," Mom told me as she came in. "I-" I almost told her off, but I wasn't that stupid. "It's only seven thirty," I argued instead after I checked the clock. "Did you actually put the food up yet?" hoping the answer was no. "No." "Yesss!" I hissed, and headed towards the dining room. "I'll clean it up!" I called to everyone, in the hopes they'd leave it alone long enough for me to eat something. "C'mon, Pam, hurry! No, wait, plates," I remembered and turned back around. *** 20:09 19 Nov Pam had had a twelfth of pie, and about two-thirds of a meal, before Mike reappeared. I couldn't really not tell him about Mom's pie tonight, not after the mall and Valerie thing today. Mom had been corrupted by Debbie, though, or something, because she managed to convince Pam to eat more than she usually did by claiming some of it was test samples and she needed more of an opinion on it. I'd paid attention to how Mom did it, because Mike was right, Pam WAS too thin, and I might want to trick her into eating too, at some point. Sabrina had, of course, shown up a little before eight, and then some idiot offered HER pie, and then Brian made enough room in HIS cheek pouches for some more, and so when Mike got here there wasn't much at all left. Not that this stopped him from getting nearly all the remainder. "I think we need to do this more often," Mike announced. "I think you need to get out of my house and stop eating my food," I told him. "It's not YOUR food, it wasn't on YOUR plate!" "Shut UP!" Sabrina complained at us. Mike and I wanted to continue the 'argument', but with Dad right there, and Sabrina dealing with math, it was probably best not to, right at the moment. "Michael?" Mom called. "C'mere." I looked up, wondering what she was doing, and Mike got up. "Pie lessons," he smirked at me, and waggled his eyebrows, before he went into the kitchen. "What the hell?" I stared at the door for a long time before I remembered about Kathy talking about what she'd do for pie. "Oh, right. Good luck, you'll need it," I said to the absent Mike, and went back to finishing my belated meal. Pam asked, "What?" "Mike decided, or discovered, that chicks dig desserts," I summarized. "So he's getting lessons from Mom on how to make pies." "So's your brother," Dad tossed in. "Not like it'll help HIM," I said. "Tuck," Dad lightly warned me. "Anyway," I said to Pam so I could ignore Dad, "he's gonna get lessons, and probably take a pie or two home. Hit him up at lunch tomorrow," I suggested. "You think that'd work?" Sabrina asked. "Is he gonna have any left?" Pam asked Sabrina. "How many is he making?" I asked Dad. "Maybe you should talk to him tonight," Sabrina inserted. Dad said, to me I think, "I don't know. If your mother is smart, which goes without saying," except it didn't, except you NEVER said that out loud, "then she'll have each of them make four, an-" "Four?" "Each?" I got in channel-delayed girly stereo. "That PIG!" I complained. "Make him use his own oven! And ingredients!" "He's paying for lessons," Dad smirked at me. "WHAT?!" "Well, he said he would... apparently he likes doing chores here more than at home." I was aghast. I started to get up, to drag him down into the basement to see if I could pry the alien mind controller out of his flesh, but then realized that Mom would probably fight me and I couldn't take on both of them at the same time. "Oh, Mike, Mike..." It was probably too late anyway. Dad mentioned, "He said something about using it to pick up girls?" "Yee- hmm," Sabrina said, and then thought about it, as Pam snickered. "How many calories are in a slice of pie?" "Forty," Dad said. "No way!" Pam giggled. "More like four hundred!" "Oh no, not that much," Sabrina disputed. "So how would you find out, Sabrina?" Dad asked. "Huh?" Dad gestured at the math stuff in front of them. "How would you find out how many calories are in one slice of pie? Math isn't supposed to be like solitaire; it's supposed to be useful." "You just add up all the calories on all the ingredients, I guess... and divide by, uh, the number of slices?" I couldn't figure out why she sounded so hesitant. Even Pam was nodding at her. "Twelve, in this case," Dad inserted. *** 20:22 19 Nov "Trust me," Mike said, which made me not trust him. "Look, HOW many girls were over here last weekend? Doing HOUSEWORK?" "Still, man, doing chores? Mom should've offered-" "This way I don't have to pay for ingredients, though," he said. "And, she said she'd take it later, when she needed it." "You gave her a FAVOR?! Open-ended?!" There was a reason I preferred contracts. "Chicks dig desserts!" he insisted. "No sh- kidding," Brian added. "You shut up," I told him. "Why'n'cha make me," he whined. "Eugene," Mom warned. Before I could protest the grotesque unfairness, she said in the same tone, "Brian." *** 20:28 19 Nov At least I got Pam's sweater in the wash, after I failed to restore Mike to sanity. I felt guilty... though he sort of had a point, the price seemed too terrible to pay. Mom always called that sort of thing in when everyone was already pissed off AND you had something else you really wanted to do. And if you didn't do Mom's favor right then, you got penalty interest added, unless you could convince her to delay it. Which was really hard, after eighteen years of Susan's fumblings; Mom was amazingly suspicious and distrustful. *** 20:43 19 Nov Theoretically I could've stayed downstairs and watched Mike and Brians' pie lessons, but it was too depressing. Even watching Sabrina was too painfully close. That, and I had problems keeping my mouth shut, and she threw pencils when she got frustrated and I didn't. I was sure she didn't throw pencils at my dad in that situation, because she was still coming here. "Hey, Tuck?" Pam asked. "Oh, hey... Oh, did you want to like go home?" I asked her. "No; I mean, I need to kind of soon, but not yet," she said. "I just wan- Am I like interrupting anything?" "Huh- Oh, no; I just need to charge things and print my math homework for tomorrow." "Oh, um..." Actually I was done plugging things in already. "Actually I'm done," I said instead, and turned to net the math over and print it, which was a few seconds worth of shell script. "Grab a seat," I said, which was sort of a joke since I was sitting on the only 'seat' and nobody else liked it anyway. *** 21:15 19 Nov "How about I take her home, and we see you two tomorrow?" Sabrina suggested. "You don't mind?" Pam asked her. Mike had apparently decided to stay over here, in my room, without asking me - though that was entirely in keeping with the rest of today - and I for one didn't want to go out again. *Getting lazy in my old age...* "Nah, it's not far," Sabrina said. "Okay, I need to get you a couple- I mean..." We all waited as she cogitated. "I'll give it to you tomorrow or something. Stuff for Val," she announced. *** 21:35 19 Nov "So, feel rested? After today?" "Not with you blabbing," I told Mike. "And keeping me awake," I finished. "Did you set the other alarm for seven?" I tried, and failed, to care. Mike insisted, "Get the fuck up and set the other alarm." This time I didn't fail. Or I did, depending on how you looked at it. *** 06:00 20 Nov "Bedoop!" "Nnnnh?" Five very annoying notes got my attention, and told me that the MacinClock wanted me to get up. I, on the other hand, wanted to sleep, and I had thumbs. *** 06:01 20 Nov "Bedoop!" "Nnnnnngh. Wait, what?" I had to look, but it really was six in the morning, on Thursday. It was also just before the last quarter of the moon, but I didn't think that had anything to do with me sleeping... more than I could comprehend right now. And DAMN I had to PISS. *** "Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care The teath of each day's life, sore labour's bath Balm of hurt minds, nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast." -- William Shakespeare, Macbeth "The amount of sleep required by the average person is five minutes more." -- Wilson Mizener Distribution: No part of this work may be distributed as an original work by another person or group. Permission is given to redistribute this by electronic means, as long as the entirety of the work (from the BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE header to the END PGP SIGNATURE footer) is distributed, and credit is given to the original author, me. And no fee may be charged. Archiving is permitted provided no fee is charged for access. All rights reserved. + @>--,--'----- Ellen Hayes o===[-------- __ vicki .sig + -=[1990]=- \/ virus 13.6 + http://www.barkingduck.net/ehayes PGP key: EFC9 5D55 (1996) + -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: 2.6.2 iQCVAwUBR92j/3YDebnvyV1VAQGZTAP9FpAg1TTBMFAlSCnlkDQhUMpccV+NSNif jegTUiGS1wW4hBa+WRRgNOE3m0LkqBoaAABy2GgbN1CRuRvWuPsij7X/7++PNAeF 9e+Iq2V4ZtfhSYm3DTY6s5RQDLeh7Q7TQoKmoOgqeVn70RtzhU6fviqqr+UvJXfs aotEcySlOtU= =sYry -----END PGP SIGNATURE-----