My Brother Is Ashley Purdy

I grab my school bag and shake the contents out. Papers and notebooks and junk fall out in a big pile on the floor.

Laptop. Charger.

Five favorite T-shirts (from the dirty laundry basket -- whatever, I can wash them later). My only two pairs of skinny jeans -- kaki with black tiger stripes and simple black -- a pair of comfortable track suit pants, a black sweater, a hoodie, two beanies, socks, underwear, three decent bras, and my old tennis shoes.

My combat boots are in the hallway, next to the door. I'll have to get them on my way out.
I dump my small jewelry box in my bag, alongside with my toiletries -- toothbrush, elastic bands, mascara, eyebrow shadow, primer, lip balm, foundation, eye liner, my scarlet lipstick (which I don't have the balls to wear in public), my only brush, straightener, shampoo -- I startle my cat when I pull out a medium towel. The little prick fell asleep on the freshly washed towels.

Loki (yes, Loki the cat. He's black with green eyes; look I don't have to explain myself) stretches lazily and mews hopefully. According to him, it's food time all the time. I ignore him and grab my beige jacket. I so need a black leather one. After all, my Brother has one, doesn't he. Ugh, I call bullshit to that.
What else?

iPod. Duh.

I take my headphones which are chillin on the floor and stuff them in my back pocket. I remember to take the charger as well. The iPod itself is a joke. It's a 1st generation iPod touch. No camera, no volume buttons, and no wifi. Just one thing: music. And honesty? That's all I want. I shove it in the side pocket of my school bag.

I need money.

I run to the closet and push aside a mountain of clothes and junk and feel my way until my hand comes in contact with smooth glass.

My secret money stash.

I can't unscrew the damn thing so I run back to my bathroom and throw it hard in the bathtub. It shatters and I carefully fish the dollar bills. I have about $300 plus the emergency debit card which holds about $450.

She can definitely track me down if I were to take money out of the account, so I'll have to take it all once.
I take my phone and check for Lonnie. Nothing. Damn bitch isn't here yet.

I walk like a crazy person around my room, snatching bits and pieces. My diary, a big fat black small book with clear pages gets in too. My kindle. Passport, and wallet where I put my license and money.

Oh, fuck. She's knocking on the door. And I hear sobbing. Is Purdy still in the living room? I honestly don't understand what he's doing here.

I don't understand what mom expects to happen. Him moving in? Moving to California? Letting him pay us all our dues? I don't fucking think so.

My phone rings once. I glance at it and throw it on my bed. It's gonna have to stay, otherwise she'll track me down.

Lonnie's here.

LonLon: beep beep bitch

Lovely.

Bitches, I watched tons of movies. I've basically been preparing myself for this moment.

I turn around and hug Loki tight against my chest. He hisses but I hold on. After a few seconds he relaxes and starts purring. Unfortunately I can't take him with me. I really want to, but I can't.

My skate! I need some type of transportation and I don't have a car. I grab the board (skateboard sized longboard) and take a deep breath.

Thirty seconds. Otherwise I won't be able to leave. I need a battle plan.

Grab my boots.

Glare at my mother.

Maybe flip her off.

Stick my tongue out at Ashley.

...

...

...

The bedroom door quietly opens and Alex sticks her head out gingerly. Her mother is on the couch and Ashley is awkwardly patting her back.

They both look up at the sound of a long honk somewhere in the street.

Shit. Be calm! Don't jump!

She walks to the front door and grabs her combat boots. No time to put them on, I'll do that in the car.

She turns and sees her mother walk up to her.

"Don't you dare," Alex hisses. "Slut."

Okay. Maybe that was a bit much. But she stops in her tracks.

Alex looks at Ashley for a second. Before she can stop herself she grins. "Thanks, dude."

And with that she bows to her mother, with two middle fingers lopsidedly in the air above her. It's hard to be a bitch with a board under your armpit. "Laters."

...

The front door opens but it doesn't close.

Notes

I know it's super short. Sorry, I'll try to update it more often.