Best-Friends with Issues

Chapter 10- Shopping Cart of Death

~Conner~

The ride to Tom and Jerry's house was uneventful, filled with awkward silence and sympathetic glances from my mother.

I all but dived out of the car as soon as she pulled up to their house, desperate to escape from my mom's overwhelming pity.

But the real problems didn't happen until I knocked on the front door.

"C-man!" Jerry opened the door with a wide grin. I smiled back apologetically, and he nodded in understanding. "Let me guess, you need a place to crash for a bit? Well you've come to the right place, my hopeless friend!"

"Thanks man." We fist-bumped, then made our way to the living room, Jerry shutting the door behind me.

Tom was lying on the sofa in the pitch dark room, very much resembling a zombie. He groaned when his twin turned on the lights, covering his eyes and shying away from the brightness.

"Jerry." He whined pitifully. "Why do you hate meeeee?"

In response, Jerry only rolled his eyes. He turned to me, meeting my surprised expression. "He's still hungover from last night." He explained.

My eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? That was almost 24 hours ago."

The more human-like of the brothers nodded his head and gestured to his brother on the couch. "Behold, my beloved golden boy of a brother." He said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Shut up." Tom muttered into his arm, before rolling over and burying his face in the couch cushions.

Jerry sighed, and turned back to me. "So, anyways-"

"Tom? Jerry?" He was interrupted as his mother walked in from the kitchen, adorning an apron and a wide smile. "Oh hello there Conner! It's so lovely to see you!"

"Thank you. It's nice to see you too, Mrs.Carson." I smiled ruefully in return. She beamed at me with her open, oblivious expression, and I couldn't help but grimace.

The twins' mom was nice enough. The only problem was, she was too nice.

Before meeting the radiant blond before me, I would never have thought that being kind could ever be a hindrance. But add such kindness to an oblivious and far too trusting personality, and being nice is practically digging your own grave.

Mrs.Carson was klutzy, overenthusiastic, and completely incapable of 'reading the mood'. Jerry once told me that she actually won the lottery, but then gave away her winning ticket to a guy who claimed that it was actually his that he had lost, and the man at the convenience store had picked up and resold it. I completely believed him.

"Jerrbear," She went on adoringly to her son. "Would you be a dear and go to the grocery store?"

Jerry blinked. "Right now?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yupp!"

Her son blinked again, and turned to look outside at the darkening sky. "But it's like, 10 o'clock."

She rolled her eyes playfully, flicking a few blond strands over her shoulder. "Of course it is, silly! A coworker of mine told me that night is actually when all of the best products are sold!"

Jerry furrowed his eyebrows, and looked like he dreaded asking his next question. "How much did you pay this coworker for this, oh so helpful advice?"

His mother beamed back effortlessly, unfazed. "Only 20 dollars! It was so nice of him too, because-"

"Mom." Jerry groaned, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "How many times have I told you not to trust those jerks?"

Mrs.Carson didn't even so much as frown, let alone drop her joyful smile. "Jerrbear, my coworkers are my friends, of course I can trust them! I don't know why you get so worked up over such silly things!"