You Should Have Been Here Yesterday

Your Vocabulary is so... Extensive

"Yeah!" I exclaimed around a mouthful of pizza.  Friday is pizza day.  "The frickin' douche-face stole my guitarist and cheated off of me!"

        "Gin, it's really not that bad," Joey was saying.  "Mick cheats all the time."

        Mick chucked a pepperoni slice at Joey (from my slice of pizza), looking offended.  "Why would you say that?  Do you think I'm stupid?"

        "Yes," Joey and I said at the same time.  Then we all started laughing.

        "So who're we seeing tonight?" I asked no one in particular.

        Joey shrugged, looking to Mick.  "It's this band called the Chain Reactant or something.  I've never heard of 'em, but they're apparently pretty good.  Tickets cost me fifty cents each."

        "Fifty cents?" Joey asked, incredulous.  "Each?!"

        "Yeah, man," Mick said.  "Why do you think I haven't eaten lunch since last Thursday?  It's all my lunch money!"  He pulled three pieces of paper from his pocket, waving them in front of Joey and me.  "Gin, I'm coming over right after school, cool?"

        Regardless of what I say, he'll come anyway.  I nod, though, and finish my pizza.

--

"Where the hell is Joey?" Mick whined, going through my cupboard of food.  My mom was still at work.

        "He said he had to drop off his stuff and get changed, remember?" I said.

        "Yeah, but... Where the fuck are the chips?" he demands.

        "I dunno," I say.  "Somewhere."

        "Thanks for the help," he muttered.

        "Anytime," I said, but he didn't see the wink that went with it.

        Eventually, Joey showed up.  And by that time, Mick was convinced we were late.  We weren't.  "I tried looking up those Chain Reaction... Reactant?... guys," Joey was saying, "you know, at the record store–"

        "So that's what took you so long!" Mick interrupted.

        "Shut up, Mick," I said, painting my eyelashes with some mascara.  In order to get in, we often have to look a little older than we really are.

        "Then hurry the fuck up, Gin!  We're late!" Mick exclaimed.

        I rolled my eyes.  Every other word out of his mouth, it seems, is fuck.  "Anyway, I couldn't find anything on them," Joey continued.  "They've got nothing out!"

        "Look, if it's a shitshow, we'll leave," Mick said, "and I'll suffer the waste of my money.  And next time, Whiny McGee and..."  Mick trailed off, looking at me applying makeup in the mirror.  "Miss... Hooker Pants can choose the band."  I threw my brush at him.  Joey smirked.

        My pants aren't tight, and the makeup isn't whore-able.  The goal here is to get a sophomore in high-school to look like a twenty-something.  It's difficult for me!

        I mean, for people like Linda it's not that hard.  But... Well, let's just say I could pass for a junior-high kid if I didn't wear any makeup at all.

        Anyway, I finished up and then we went back downstairs to the kitchen.  Joey laced up his tennis-shoes and Mick and I slid on our boots.  After shoving some beers into my purse that the boys force me to carry to things like these, we went out to Mick's car and were on our way... Almost.