What should I feel right now? Heartbroken, anger, betrayal? Why couldn't life be easier? I looked up, a bright sign greeted me. Mom and Pop's Milkshake Shoppe...
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After witnessing her boyfriend making out with anoth...
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Scott's P.O.V
I hurried away and looked back at the midnight-haired girl. Michelle, she's like any other girl I've met, but she's cool.
She started turning around and I scurried into the kitchen area, cowering slightly behind a group of friends. I watched as she left, the glass door swinging behind her and I let out a sigh of relief. Thank the lord she left, it's already pretty embarrassing to be sporting the uniform that makes you look like you went back in time, and no, I am not taking any remarks about how vintage is in style now. But when your parents own the restaurant and you met a girl who thinks you're actually cool, then it's ten times worse.
Opening the door to the lounge like area, I stepped in and grabbed my uniform from it's cubby. God, no. I don't think that people would dare to put this on The Worst Dressed List, the spirit who wore this in the 1960s might come and haunt them.
"Scott, finally." I turned around to see my mom invading what I could never call privacy. Seriously, I get none of that, ever. Only the privileged get privacy and according to the multiple unpaid bills on our kitchen counter, I don't believe we've reached that level in life yet.
"Yeah mom?" I heard yelling from the kitchen that was right next to the break room.
"There are orders that need to be taken. Also, can you clean the bathrooms? Thank you!" She practically ran away to serve another customer.
I sighed, I didn't even tell her that no, I can't clean the bathrooms. Why? Because you don't know what people do in there. But no, the middle child is just meh. Always has been and always will be. Besides, I'm probably adopted, you don't see anybody else looking like they're half middle eastern in this family. Black hair and amber eyes are obviously not in the genetics because everyone related to me is either a blonde bombshell or an innocent brunette with ocean eyes. Also, tell my why they all sunburn and I just "tan."
"So..." A peppy voice sang. I looked up to see my blonde bimbo of a sister swinging around like a freaking' ape near the door frame. "You were talking." Obviously, Callie's IQ is probably lower than my self-esteem right now after my oh-so-encouraging pep-talk with myself. "To a girl..." Really, kind of thought she was a boy for a second.
"Yeah," I mumbled paying her no mind. Slipping on the shirt and killing myself slowly while placing the stupid paper hat on my head of black hair, I watched as she twirled around the door frame as if it was a pole.
"You like her?" She went all up in my personal bubble. Then again, that was probably popped years ago.
"As a friend so don't get any ideas." Writing a suicide note in my head, I attempted to push past her. Note the ATTEMPTED part. Unfortunately, she lifts now and pushed me back as if I weighed a pound. Well I actually weigh 118 pounds, so it probably wasn't that hard. I'm so underweight my doctor thought I had an eating disorder. Male stereotypes just don't apply to me do they? God also doesn't love me, but I know that already.
"She's pretty, I ship it!" She sang.
"And I ship you with a truck driven by a drunk driver going at 100 miles an hour. You guys would make cute children, name one Jimmy for me." Running out the door, I stopped near Caleb, knowing that Callie had a mysterious sibling feud with him so she won't come near me with her deadly intelligence level again.
"Scott, finally," Caleb sighed with relief. Oh, now he's a mom, I swear he's quoting her. Why couldn't he be a normal guy and quote Star Wars instead?
"Yes," I mumbled. One day with him and me just being best buddies, I need that one day. I am basically the only guy in this family besides him and Adam. And let's just say Adam isn't the ideal brother.
He pointed at a table with a group of people. "I need you to take their order. I have to finish washing these dishes. Oh wait, can you grab me those two milkshake glasses first." I looked over at where Michelle and I were once sitting. That seemed so long ago, probably was, Callie can talk so long, it might be a talent.
Shrugging, I obeyed. Always obey your elders kids and never talk back to them either and don't do drugs! I don't know how that was even remotely related to the topic but my school still put it in the assembly anyways.
Cleaning up leftover fries and milkshake glasses, I walked over to the sink so slowly, I could feel snails judging me. Glancing over at the table of kids who were still waiting for someone to take their order, I groaned. Human interaction, it's the worst.
Trudging to the table, I plastered a silicone smile on my face and went to take their order.
Ten orders, six french fry baskets, thirty milkshakes, four toilet cleanings, and one slight milkshake mishap (me forgetting to put the top ON the blender) later, I was done for. The shoppe closed and I was greeted with instant relief. My bed is where it's at.
Walking up the stairs to where we live, I immediately collapsed onto our soft brown couch. It maybe the color of the poop emoji, but it's great to throw yourself on after a tiring day. Just make sure you don't miss.
I felt pressure on the other side of the couch, but I was to lazy to look up.
"Scott has a girlfriend!" Oh great, it's Callie.
"Really?!" I heard my other younger sister, Laina, say. "Is the world ending or something or is Scott actually in a relationship before me."
Offended, I sat upright to see my sister basically hyperventilating.
"One, she's not my girlfriend." I glared at my blue-eyed sister who was sitting on the couch looking like an innocent little angel. Fight me in hell, I challenge you. "Second of all, why are you so surprised? I am older than you."
Laina looked at me with her grey eyes and rocked back and forth with her feet. "Well..." Oh no, I know what's happening. They're going to start on a rant about why I should basically be disowned and make me feel like literal trash. So much for being the older one, I get no respect whatsoever.
Adam walked into the living room area, biting an apple. Adam's apple. Ba dum ssssss. Is that how that song even goes? Is that even a song?
He swallowed his piece of fruit and cleared his throat. Oh no, ideal brother Donald Trump's spray tanned arse. "Let's see. You're ugly, untalented, most-likely adopted, awkward, dorky, a dank meme lord, and you can't seem to make a milkshake correctly even though your 'parents' own a milkshake shop. That's dedicated to milkshakes."
He raised a slightly visible eyebrow, while I sobbed mentally. Naturally blonde problems am I right? I wouldn't know because I probably am adopted.
Slumping back on the couch, I sighed. Siblings, you HAVE to love them, or your mother and father might give you a big lecture on when they're dead and you'll have nobody.
"By the way," I added. "I'm a spicy meme lord, not a dank one."
