Tulsa Baby

Chapter Three

A/N: Please read! So I wanna try something different and write in first person. I kept finding myself writing in first while I was working on this and thought why not.

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The rest of the week continued as any other week.  School was coming to an end and I was practically bouncing in my seat when the bell chimed for the end of the day and the end of the slow week.

I hastily gathered supplies, threw my overly stuffed backpack around my  shoulder and began my tiresome walk to my house. I usually met up with Keith so I didn't have to walk home, but on the days that he wasn't here, he refused to pick me up.

Luckily Angela caught up to me just as I was walking down the steps, "Where we going, Cherry?" As she rested an elbow on my shoulder.

"I'm," I began as I removed her elbow,"Am going home and so are you." I told her as we walked on down the sidewalk. I could practically feel the heat Angela's hair was attracting and I couldn't be more happy that I was a blonde in that moment.

"To your house?"

"No. You go to yours and I go to mine." I laughed. It wasn't that I minded she came over, but I had chores to pick up on and homework to do. None of that would get done if Angela came over, "You can come over after. It's a Friday so I'm sure Keith won't mind if you stay over after."

Angela's smile turned downwards and her steps faltered, "Um, Charlie is there." She stated, her green eyes avoiding mine.

Charlie was Angel's step dad who was in an out the picture. Though Angela preferred that he stayed out the picture he would always come back one way or another.

I only met him a couple of times, and every time I did he was either drunk or tweaked out. He had a knack for picking fights with her older brothers, and every once in a while he would he would hit Angela when her brother's weren't around.

She refused to tell her brothers and she threatened that she would tell Keith about me skipping third period half the time if I so much opened my mouth. So to compromise, we agreed on her coming over anytime her stepdad was over.

I looked around and sighed, "Fine, but I really need to get my chores done, Angel. Mom will kill me if she comes home and the house is a wreck." I told her as we began our sweaty walk to my house.

"It'll be like I'm not even there."

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"Oh my God, what's that smell!" I gagged as we entered the house. Angela had her fingers clamped over her pointed nose.

The house smelt of burnt plastic and smoke was coming from the kitchen. I groaned and ran to the kitchen where Keith was struggling to graba tray of lasagna out the oven with no mitts on.

He instantly dropped the tray, not realizing how hot it would be even though it looked like it had been in the oven for far too long.

"Keith!" I shouted, irritated at the action, "Are you kidding me!" I ran a hand through my blonde hair.

"Oh, hi Cher. How was school?" He asked with a cheeky smile, propping his hand behind his back.

"Mom is about to be home! What were you thinking!" I asked him, not being able to contain it. Keith had always been irresponsible but today it was my turn to mop the kitchen and all he was doing was making a mess, "How hard is it to cook lasagna?"

"Calm down," He picked up the mop bucket, running it under the sink facet, "I got this, mom won't flip."

I groaned and flipped the water to hot,"You're not supposed to run it under cold water, dummy." I picked up some mittens to pick up the tray, "How did you burn it? How did you manage to screw up something that just goes in the oven for like an hour and then you take it out?" The lasagna was sticking to the tiled floor and it was picking up loose dirt. I wanted to gag.

"I fell asleep." He told me sheepishly as he picked up the bucket full of steaming water.

"How? How do you fall asleep while cooking?" I took the bucket from Keith and looked over to Angela,"Could you please grab the mop, Angel." Angela went to fetch the mop without a word. She probably didn't want to get in the middle of our squabble.

"I may of drank a few beers." He shrugged, clearing thinking it wasn't a big of a deal that I was making it out to be.

I stared at him deadpanned, "You're telling me that you got drunk in the middle of the day? Fully knowing mom was coming home?" I asked coming up from behind him.

"Yeah?"

"You're an idiot."

Angel came back with the raggedy mop, holding it away from her. I grabbed it from her and shoved it towards Keith, "Get this up before mom comes home." He jerked the mop from me and cleaned up his mess while I did the dishes. I washed them, Angel dried them.

While Angel was not related to us by blood, she was like a sister to me. My mom loved the spitfire like her own daughter. She was a help around the house and every time I wanted to blow up on Keith, she calmed me down before I commited murder.

I heard the front door open and I could hear the familiar clinking of heels. My mother came in sweaty and exhausted. She drug herself to the kitchen and eyed Keith who was still mopping up his mess.

"Hey, mama." I greeted her as Angel dried the last plate. I dried my hands and gave her a hug, attempting to avoid her sweat, "How was work?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips, ignoring Keith as he rapidly cleaned the rest of his accident up.

"It was good, dear." She greeted Angela with a soft smile, "How are you doing today, Angela?"

"Getting by, Ms Matthews." Angela side stepped Keith who was now draining the mop back into the bucket, "I'll be in your room, Cherry."

"Hey, ma!" Keith greeted her a little too sweetly, "Cher here made a mess." He looked over to me, giving me a goofy look, "Silly Cher."

"That's bull." I claimed, "We all know, you can't cook worth shit," I snickered while Keith poured the dirty, red tinted into the sink, "You know you could of just put that in the microwave." I pointed out.

He sarcastically smiled, "Well in case you haven't noticed, my dear sister. The microwave is broken."

Mom sighed as she watched our quarrel, "I'm not even going to bother with you two." She set her keys down on the dinner table and let her long blonde hair down.

I've always been proud of my mom. She worked long hours over at the diner and most nights she worked as a bartender downtown, which she enjoyed more than her day job.

I've been told I was a spitting image of her. I liked to think that they were right. Her blonde hair and sky blue mirrored my own.

Though Keith and I gave her a hard time with our constant arguing, she never yelled at us, just ignored us. Occasionally she would let out a laugh or two, but not lately.

She kissed me and Keith on the forehead and headed towards her room, "Mommy is going take her nap before her night shift." She walked in her room, but I could still hear her giving us orders as usual. Don't open the door to anyone and don't tear each others throats out.

The door closed and instantly I hit Keith on the back of his head, "Stupid, you couldn't have cleaned that up before she got in?"

He rubbed his head, "Oh Lord, do you ever shut up." He complained as he hit me back.

"Don't hit me!" I whisper shouted to not wake mom up as I struck him ten times harder on the arm.

We went back and forth for a minute and all I could think of was how happy we were even without our dad. We were still a complete family and I wouldn't have it any other way.