Write One Page Per Day – 229/365 – August 17, 2018

The ‘Badass’

Cameron rode his bike down the street, kicking over trash bins and denting mailboxes as the new neighbors moved into their house. His curiosity over them was minimal at best, he didn’t give a thought to them. They moved their stuff, had a girl about his age, and gave him dirty looks like the rest of the neighbors.

“CAMERON!” his mother called from the back porch, loud enough for the entire to hear her.

“Shit…” he muttered as he pedaled home.

He sped past a the five houses between him and his house before skidding into the driveway. His mother looked furious already and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

Awesome… he thought.

“Where have you been?” she began, “Your father and I have been calling you for over an hour. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Cameron pulled the phone from his pocket, the screen lit up, showing sixteen missed calls and a handful of text messages.

“I didn’t hear it…”

“I don’t want excuses, get your ass inside. Your dinner is cold now. After you eat you need to do the dishes, like your father told you to do yesterday,” she continued.

“I’m not hungry,” he said as his father stepped out on the porch. He was already two-inches shorter than Cameron and weighed at least thirty pounds less than him.

“Listen to your mother, Cameron,” his father said, looking irritated as well.

Cameron felt his heartbeat in his eyes as his ears grew hot. He thought about it for a moment. All the chores, the yelling, and the expectations out of him. He didn’t think that it was fair. He didn’t ask them to cook. He didn’t ask them to do anything for him.

He flipped his father the bird and turned his bike out of the driveway, “I’m not listening to either of you. It’s not my problem…” he said before pumping out of the driveway.

He made it in front of the next house, where the new girl was standing on her long. She waved him over.

The thought crossed his mind to hit her with his bike, but the shiny new mailbox caught his attention. His lips curled into a sneer as he turned toward it, pumping his bike as hard as he could. He’d take it right off the top of the post.

He watched as the girl moved toward him suddenly. She was faster than any other kid he had seen in the neighborhood. He was just ahead of her when their paths crossed and a smile flashed on his face as he reach the mailbox.

He stopped moving in an instant as his bike flew out from under him, veering off toward the road as he hit the ground hard. It was her. She was instantly sitting on his chest, holding his arms down.

He struggled to move, trying to get her off of him.

“You’ll do as you’re told,” she growled at him, “or there’ll be consequences…”

“What the fuck?”

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