Hall & Oates [NaNoWriMo Fail]

It's A Laugh

prompt 6: in which a character people watches (can be with another character) and makes up stories

Oates

"You owe me $5," Frankie wiggled her fingers at Spunk and smirked. With the other hand she was rolling her hair around her finger in an attempt to get it off of her (very sweaty) neck.

Spunk shook his head and glanced up at her, his baseball cap covering his eyes. "No, no no. The bet was that he wouldn't show up to practice, practice isn't over yet. Plus, I don't have $5," Spunk said.

Laying on the floor of my garage was not the same as practicing, but it was as close as we were gonna get if Mike didn't show up. At first I thought the message he'd sent me was a joke (that was the kind of shit that Mike thought was funny), but we were an hour into practice and he hadn't shown up. We'd resorted to laying on the floor and playing I-Spy for forty five minutes (not fun, all Spunk would "spy" was the ceiling).

I sat up and ran my hands over my face, "Just go home guys, we'll practice tomorrow."

"Why don't we just practice without him?" Onyx asked, playing with the bottom of his shirt. He gave me a fleeting glance and looked away quickly as if he regretted the words as soon as he'd said them.

Frankie nodded and turned to face me, "Yeah, you can play and sing his parts."

I rolled my eyes, "If I play his parts, I can't play my own."

Spunk nodded, "Good point."

"It was just a suggestion," Onyx whispered.

I got off of the floor and immediately regretted getting down there in the first place (because the floor of the garage was covered in God knows what and my pants were covered in God knows what and just...God knows what). "We'll just pick up tomorrow."

Frankie grabbed Spunk's hand and pulled him off of the floor, "Just don't get mad about it Gabe, don't overreact."

I smiled, "C'mon Frankie, you know me better than that. That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

She narrowed her eyes, "Gabe-"

"Bye!" I shooed them out of the garage door, a giant, phony smile on my face.

They shuffled out of my garage and Onyx threw a look at me and shook his head as he followed behind them.

When I walked in the house my mom was in the living room watching Spider-Man cartoons (you know, the series with NPH and Lisa Loeb ? Back before Andrew Garfield tarnished the Spider-Man name) and eating guacamole with carrot sticks. Jessie walked into the room with a big bag of tortilla chips, she was wearing a dark green onesie with a frog on the front...I have weird parents.

"I didn't hear any practicing," Jessie said, plopping onto the couch and snagging the bowl of dip.

I leaned against the wall, "There was no practice."

My mom shrugged, "That sucks." She wore a matching onesie and a newspaper hat (that was the only reason that we had the newspaper delivered to our house. Newspaper hats and an excessive amount of paper mache projects that found their way onto my pillow one morning, scared me shitless. Once again, weird parents).

"Tell me about it."

"It sucks because you wanted to practice but there was no practice-"

Jessie shoved a chip full of guacamole into my mom's mouth and shot me an apologetic smile.

People always wonder where I get my assholishness from...that's where I get it.

"Come and watch Spider-Man with us," my mom shouted through a mouthful of corn and guacamole.