Young Lust

3 - Dickhead He is

"Hello, honey! How was your day?" my mother asked me as I threw my bag on the kitchen floor.

"I hate everything," I answered and got a raspberry icy pole out of the freezer.

She sighed. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" she asked and handed me scissors to open my icy pole.

"Not if you don't count having the crap annoyed out of you by some dickhead all day and not being left alone, even when you're not even on the school property, no, it wasn't that bad at all,"

"Jade, don't say that word please." Mum said.

"What, dickhead? That's what he is,"

"Maybe so, but it doesn't sound nice coming out of the mouth of a seventeen year old young lady," she said, putting the last plate away in the cupboard.

"He thought my hair was jade, Mum," I told her.

She raised her eyebrows. "Dickhead he is," she agreed.

I gave her a smile and a quick hug, grabbed my school bag off the floor and went upstairs to my room.

I loved new my room, three walls were white, the other was orange and covered in band posters. They were the first things, after my bed and desk of course, that I set up in my room. I had the Beatles, David Bowie, the Doors, the Rolling Stones, and I had an orange Jim Morrison canvas on the white wall above my bed.

I dumped my bag on my bed and sat next to it and finished my icy pole. I threw the stick into my bin and laid back, arms out in a T shape.

I really didn't want to face Steven Tallarico again tomorrow. I may as well come up with some smartassery, since it's unavoidable.

"Piss off, Tallarico, you wanker," I said aloud when I couldn't think of anything.