Chapter two of The Wallows (my WIP)

Chapter 1: https://blog.spacehey.com/entry?id=1329454

Shawn is driving us back now. He’s still driving way too fast for my liking. The windows are rolled down and ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ is blasting on the car radio. Shawn is singing the nonsense part of the chorus loud enough for the people on the sidewalk to hear. He’s a decent singer, to be honest.

I flick my cigarette out the window and nod my head to the guitar in the background. We pull into Sunny Meadows. It’s about three o’clock in the afternoon now. Me and Shawn stopped at the diner for lunch. It wasn’t really eventful, other than our waitress being someone we’ve never met before, and who was a total bitch. She told us we shouldn’t be smoking. Meanwhile, another server, the one we usually have, is smoking while taking another person’s order. Our usual’s Trixie. She’s awesome, funniest woman I’ll probably meet. This bitch must be new to town, and she better get comfortable around smokers cause’ most of the people in town smoke.

Shawn stops the truck and the radio goes quiet. I hop out and notice Stan sitting out on the steps of his trailer, head in his hands, cigarette hanging out his mouth.

“Go to your trailer, Lacy. I gotta talk to Stan.” Shawn starts walking over to him.

I go inside my trailer. Mom’s gone and probably at work. She cleans rooms for the local motel. It charges by the hour, and it’s near the local truck stop. 

I sit down on the old, faux leather couch. There are JCpenney catalogs from the 90s on the coffee table next to a vase of daisies. I spread myself on the couch and take a magazine to fan myself with. Of course the AC is busted during the worst heatwave of the summer. I’m baking like a turkey. I wonder what they’re talking about out there, Shawn and Stan. I sit up and look out the window. Stan looks like he’s crying and Shawn is rubbing his back.

I wish I was nicer to Keith. He was talking to me yesterday. I didn’t really listen to him. If this was a few years ago, I probably would’ve been listening intently.  I wonder what he was trying to tell me. I shake my head and quit staring. I think I’m sweating even more now. I get up and go to the fridge. I open the freezer, filled with orange concentrate and freezer burned TV dinners. I reach all the way to the back to grab a bomb-pop. That’ll cool me down. In my opinion, bomb-pops is the best frozen treat with three flavors. It’s only the best because I only know of two and neapolitan tastes like shit.

While it’s still in its packaging, I hold it up to my forehead. An instant cool washes over me. I rip it out of the packaging and start licking it. Mom’ll be home by six or so, and Shawn seems to have his hands full, so I’ll have to entertain myself. 

I walk out of the trailer. I start walking over to lot 17. It’s vacant, a cool hangout spot. Me and Shawn put some bean bags in there. I walk in and plop down on the purple bean bag. It’s losing beans. I stare up at the ceiling, pulling a cig out of the hiding spot in the bean bag. My lighter is across the room, finally! Fucking found it. I scamper for it and light my cig.

I sit back in the bean bag and take a drag of my cigarette. I start humming a Britney song. 

Thanks 4 reading!!! This chapter is a little short, lol X3