Lonely Souls

"Darling, I have someone here I want you to meet," my mother said from behind the door of my room. "Come downstairs." Her footsteps made me cringe. I knew who this someone must be. Another boyfriend for me to meet and hate, just like all the rest. There was a time in my life when I was happy, but never again. I'd gotten used to this thought and had no desire to care about it anymore.            I looked at my computer screen and sighed, read off the names of my friends that I was talking to, and got up. It was nearly eleven at night, and most people had gone to bed for enough rest to get up at eight in the morning. I told my friends I would be back soon, and if I wasn't to call the police because someone was probably dead. My friends gave me the usual good luck ritual.            I made my way to the door and listened in case I could hear my mother and the guy talking. Of course, there was nothing of the sort. They'd gotten smart over the last few months, having caught me once while I tried to listen through the living room door.            I slowly opened my door, careful as I made my way downstairs, and just as I figured, the man was still standing at the door whispering with my mother. This guy looked different from the last one. He looked perfect, right down to the last strand of hair. This only meant one thing: he was trying too hard and being too nice. My mother could never choose a proper guy even if he stuck out like a Twilight vampire at mid day. I stood silently looking over him and chose on spot: Denied.            "Darling, Rebecca, this is my new boyfriend, Charles. Charles, this is my daughter," my mother said happily, but took care not to look overly so, because I was not fond of meeting her boyfriends. Ever.            "Good afternoon," said the man, holding his hand out to shake mine. I hadn't even bothered to remember his name. I also didn't figure I'd have to, he'd be gone in about a week if I got my way. "It's nice to meet you. You look like a nice young lady."            "It's the evening," I said after being so silent. "And why would what I look like matter to you? You're dating my mother, not me," I hissed, making this the first sign that I had no desire to ever see him again and my opinion would most definitely not be changed by him, or anyone else. "If you have any type of lotion on your hands, I can't shake it, I'm allergic to most hand creams." The man's soft smile slowly turned to a disappointed frown as he let his hand fall awkwardly to his side.            "Goodnight mom, see you tomorrow," I said quickly, glanced at my mother and walked into the kitchen to get my nightly glass of water. My mother came in after me looking livid. "I said goodnight, what do you want now?"            "That wasn't polite at all Rebecca!" my mother said angrily as she walked up behind me. I rolled my eyes. "I'm very disappointed in you!"            "Good. Maybe you'll pick a better boyfriend next time. He looks like garbage if you ask me. If he didn't try to look perfect, I might have thought different."            "That's not a nice thing to say."            "How is it not? He was trying to look like a fantasy dream, and it didn't work. I know it and you know it too. What is with you and the attraction to those guys?"            "He's not that bad Rebecca. He's a gentleman."            "I'm sure," I replied and sipped at my water. "We'll see about that. Goodnight, I'm tired and I want to go to bed. I'll talk to you in the morning." I went up to my room, and once my computer was off, I went to bed.            Getting up early wasn't a good thing with me. This particular morning it was much worse. With a knock on the door, I looked at the clock. Quarter to nine in the morning. I groaned and rolled over when my mother came in and pulled off my blankets, leaving me with only my pajamas and an angry attitude for the rest of the day. My mother was saying something, but I cared so much that I decided to ignore it and go back to sleep.            Finally dragging myself out of bed at ten, I walked half asleep down to the kitchen for breakfast, and guess who was sitting there with a big smile on his face. As if my day hadn't started out bad enough already. I sat on the opposite side of the table where my father used to sit and wanted to slam my head against the table multiple times to see if he'd go away.            Remembering why I came downstairs in the first place, I got up and went to the fridge, and pulled out some fruit. Two large, very red strawberries, quarter of a cantaloupe, and a hand full of blueberries. Onto a plate. Milk in a small glass.            I took my breakfast to the table and sat back down.            "So how was your night Rebecca?" the man asked as I took a bite of a strawberry. I didn't want to answer him. He didn't look interested, and I wasn't interested in telling. Besides, he already knew. He sighed and looked out the picture window that I turned to stare out of.            "Fine," I said after a while, by this time I'd eaten everything but the cantaloupe. I dug my spoon in it and sighed angrily. "I give up. Why are you here?"            "Your mother and I are very in love Rebecca, that's something you will have to understand. She chooses her life partner, not you." I almost choked on my spoon.            "See mom?" I called into the front room. "He wants to make babies with you!" I looked back at him with fiery eyes. "Most people figure that when you get married, that is your life partner. I don't appreciate you coming into this house like you're going to be my new father, because that's not going to happen. I'm seventeen, and I have a father."            "From what I heard, he's in some rainy state near Canada, barely living." He had a smug look on his face that I really wanted to beat off with a steel baseball bat.            "Whatever, it's his business how he lives. I want you to leave."            "I love your mom. There's nothing you can do to stop us from being together."            I growled and got up, drinking the rest of my milk on the way to the sink. My mother came in as I was setting my dishes in the sink. We'll see. She had a bathing suit on. "Have fun last night?" I looked at my mothers smile when she saw her boyfriend which faded when she looked at my expression.            "Becky, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop being rude," she said angrily and sighed, looking apologetically at the boyfriend. "Why aren't you dressed and ready for the beach?" she asked as she looked back at me. "I told you this morning that's where we're going today with Charles."            "Oh, that's what I ignored this morning, you were telling me to get ready for the beach! Oh well, looks like I'm not going," I said and gave a fake sigh, shrugged my shoulders and walked out of the kitchen.            This situation was going to be difficult to deal with, and the lowest thing that I could think of doing was to cry and sob and beg my mother to make him go away, but the more I thought about it, the more something else came clearer and clearer into my mind. What if I said he r***d me? Would my mother believe it? I crossed it out of my mind, because my mother would make me go to the hospital, get tested, and find that I was still a virgin, therefore not r***d. What a hard thing to think of, how to get rid of a mother's persistent boyfriend. They were a whole different species, not even from this world. They were practically aliens... stupid men...            I heard the car leave as the traitor and antagonist went to the beach. I normally would have sprung for the chance but living in Florida gave perks all the time. I could walk for about ten minutes and be at the beach one way, and ten minutes the other way would bring me dead center to the insanity of the shopping malls. No place on Earth was better than this. Not that I've been anywhere other than this.            I went on f*******: and twitter, you know how long that can take a teenager to get off of, checked my email and laughed at a few of the ones I'd received.            I fell backwards onto my bed, and stared at the ceiling for the longest time, not thinking about anything or anyone, just sort of spaced out. It was about four in the afternoon when I was pulled out of my trance by my mother knocking on the door asking when Eric was coming over and if he would be there for supper.            "No mom, he's coming over after supper, I have to call him if he doesn't call me," I replied and smiled. This would be a fun night. "Oh, mom? Can he stay overnight in the spare room?" There was a sigh and a 'yes' behind the door as my mother walked away and down the stairs to the living room. The thing that I liked most about this ironic situation, was that my mother didn't like Eric, and had tried to make me lose contact with him a few weeks ago.            I got up and turned on my laptop, letting it run it's usual scans I hadn't let finish this morning, and heard my cell phone ring with the ringtone 4ever by The Veronicas. Eric. I answered it.            "In an hour? Awesome, see you then. Bye," I said and snapped the phone shut. Now, all I had to do was go eat, then he'd be over anytime after that. What a perfect night this would be. Absolutely perfect...            After being called for supper, finding out that Charles was staying yet again didn't make me happy, though the fact that Eric was staying overnight didn't make Charles happy, which made up for most of my own displeasure.            "So, who is this Eric person coming over tonight? I hope he's at least presentable," Charles said as he sat down in his suit pants, a dress shirt and a tie. He looked at me, and my lips curled into a smile as I watched him at the other end of the table. My mother knew what was coming next, and before she could do anything, I started to speak.            "Oh, he is quite presentable. As high-class teens, he and I are always presentable and do not go anywhere looking anything otherwise. More than I could say for you. I hope you get sauce on your tie."            "Supper's ready," my mother said walking out with a pot in her hands, and Charles instantly sprang up to help her, and so did I. Both of us reached her at the same time, and the pot of spaghetti went flying out of my mother's hands, landed and skidded across and off the table, the noodles sliding all the way down the hall.            "Look what you did!" I yelled at Charles, and he did something I hadn't been prepared for.            "When you saw me get up you should have stayed sitting down and not got in the way of things!" Charles yelled, and a little thought came to my mind. Seeing as I was never yelled at, I could make a scene and make my mother get angry at Charles. The guy made this too easy.            Tears welled up in my eyes, I bit my lip, and started sniffing and buried my face in my hands, beginning my convincing weep. "I always help my mom with setting the supper table, and now you're trying to take everything I do away from me, and you wonder why I don't want you here!" I cried, my voice muffled and sad behind my hands. Charles was taken aback and looked genuinely surprised as I looked up with my puffy red eyes. My mom looked at me, not having seen me cry in years about anything other than a low grade.            "I'll just go make more spaghetti honey, okay?"            "Alright dear," Charles said looking at her and she looked back at him.            "I was talking to Rebecca," she said and walked back into the kitchen. I lifted my teary eyes from my hands and glared at Charles.            "Do you know how many children in Ethiopia that could have fed tonight? At least ten!" I said in a shrill voice and put my hands back over my face after I sat back down at the table.            "You can stop anytime, you know," Charles said. He took his original seat, not looking at all like he believed me. About time.            "What are you talking about?" I asked in mock surprise and sniffed again, my eyes still puffy because of the crying and yelling. "Oh, I see, you want to make me look like the bad person." It may not be easy to get him to leave on his own, but I had to get my mom on my side, if nothing else.            "You’re the one that's trying to make your mother break up with me."            "Is it that obvious? I've already caught on to you. You want to marry my mother because she's got everything you don't have, and believe me, that's a lot. Unfortunately, I'm not going to let you hurt her. She won't let you take all her money, I hope you know that." Mainly because it was my money, not hers.            "We'll see about that Rebecca, I love your mother," Charles said and smirked. "Once we're married, there's nothing you can do."            "There's always divorce."            "We'll see."            I smirked and so did Charles, though there was no way he could be sure of why I was smirking. He figured he had us beat, but he couldn't be more wrong. Even though we were a rich family, my mother didn't have much money. It was mine and I barely ever touched it unless I needed to or wanted something really badly. So badly in fact that I couldn't live without it. My father had been a smart man and had closed the divorce with one little thing that my mother overlooked. She only got the money I gave her of my own free will.            Who would want anything more than money?            I did. I wanted a family. My family.            "Okay, so the water is boiling, I'm going to put the noodles in when it's ready, and all the other noodles are cleaned up. Is there anything I'm missing?" My mother said as she came out of the kitchen and I smiled sadly at her, then stood up.            "No, but don't cook anything for me. I have a headache. I'm not very hungry anymore, I'll just go up to my room until Eric gets here. At least he’s got manners." With that, I gave one last sniff and made my way into the kitchen, got a glass of water and an Advil -alright, I took two- and went quietly upstairs.            Not a half an hour later the doorbell rang. I jumped and ran down the stairs, almost falling I was going so fast, and just managed to beat Charles to the door. I opened the door and sure enough, there was Eric, standing there in a nice pair of jeans, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his blonde hair spiked in the front.            "Hi Eric," I said looking him over quickly, smiled, opened the door wider, and stubbed Charles' toe. He swore lightly under his breath. He gave a small hello and limped down the hall to the living room. Eric stepped inside, and I closed the door. "It's not easy having him in the house. I had to beat him to the door so that he wouldn't tell you I was sick and to come back some other time. I faked a headache, so I didn't have to eat with them tonight. Unfortunately, I think he's going to be moving in." I sighed and walked up the stairs, Eric followed closely beside me. He already knew where we were going.            I shut my door and left it unlocked on purpose. My mother never had a problem with it, but I figured that Charles would come up and complain. "Alright, so I've got a few things I want to do between now and tomorrow. Annoy the hell out of Charles, annoy the hell out of Charles, and-"            "Annoy the hell out of Charles? Sorry, just a thought," Eric smiled.            "Hm, I should have thought of that," I joked. "No, actually, I do want to do that, but I want to try and get my mom mad at him too, and if possible, get him kicked out before he moves in."            "Is that possible?"            "Most definitely."            "So what’s the plan?"            "Well, annoying him isn't hard, I've already done a lot of that today. Basically, just bad mouth him, get in his way, and disagree with everything he says. Now, getting my mother angry is a little more difficult, but that part is coming along. I made him yell at me at supper, and she basically told him to back off."            "Yeah, so what do we do to get her mad at him, without her getting mad at us?"            "I've sort of been thinking about that too, and like I said, it's going to be hard, but I think having him yell at us and hopefully go to hit one of us-"            "I'd prefer me."            "You or me," I continued. "It should get her very angry, and to the point that she'll make him leave. Paint him in a bad light to make her think he really is as bad as I say he is. Hitting me would make the process go faster but I see your point, too. Poor Eric doesn't want his Rebecca to get hurt... geez I feel like a little stuffed bear."            "You never know Rebecca, one day you might be my stuffed bear," he joked. I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "So, how are we going to get him kicked out?"            "Not sure yet, but-" I paused for a moment but shook my head. No, never mind. "I don't know. So, go with trying to annoy the hell out of him then?" Eric kissed me gently on the cheek and got up from the bed. "I'll take that as a yes, when should-"            "Rebecca, I'd appreciate it if you left the door open." I turned to the door and smirked. It was Charles, just as I thought. "Just a precaution."            "We were just going to start playing a concentration game, and we need complete quiet, that's why I closed the door."            "Well I want you to keep it open."            "Whatever," I replied as he left and walked over to the door. "Sorry, Charles, but this isn't your house, and don't act like it is because it never will be. Even if you do marry my mother, I won't conform to anything you say, and neither will my friends."            "Once I marry your mother, you will have to do what I say, because I will be the man of the house. Sorry Rebecca, but that's life."            "Bring it," I said with a fiery glare. Charles turned and started back down the hall. I closed the door, locking it from the inside. The handle wriggled, then the door shook. I smiled and shrugged to Eric, who shrugged back, neither caring what Charles would say to us once we came out.            "Rebecca, open this door now before I take it off the frame," Charles called from outside my room and I just laughed at him. "Fine, you've left me no choice," he said. I stopped mid laugh and stared at the door. A few seconds later, my door was hit by what could only be explained as an angry animal. A species called Man.            "Stop it!" I screamed, and Eric stood in front of me, in case he did knock the door down. There was no answer, and then the door was hit again, and the hinges began to break. "Get away from my door you good for nothing jerk!" I yelled, knowing that one more hit like that was going to send the door flying across the room. I moved from behind Eric to the side of the door and waited. I heard a step and then the last hit, and just as I thought, my door came off the hinges. Charles crashed into the room and was about to catch his footing when I kicked him as if I were kicking a soccer ball into a net. Well, as it turned out, I hit more than one ball, and Charles fell to the ground, holding himself and cursing at me telling me that I was going to hell and that he hated me.       I was about to tell him the feeling was mutual when my mother ran up and saw the door off it's hinges, Charles on the ground, me by the door, and Eric standing by my computer. "What happened?" she asked.            "Well, he broke my door, so I broke his balls."            "Yeah, and you know how good of a soccer player she is Ms. J," Eric replied and I couldn't help but smirk, looking at Charles who was still on the ground in pain. "He might need to go to the hospital."            During a fun-filled three hours at the hospital while Charles got his privates checked to see if he could still have kids, Eric and I decided to go shopping. Well, I did, and Eric decided it was better than staying with my mother.            "I'm going to call my dad and see when he can come over to replace your door," Eric said and pulled out his cell phone once we pulled in the driveway. "Hey, Dad?” Eric walked out of earshot for a few moments, leaving me to contemplate my life. “Thanks Dad," he said and flipped his phone shut, putting it back in his pocket as he walked back to me. "He said that he'll come by in the morning to see what he needs to get first, then he'll come back just after lunch to work on it."            "Thank you Eric," I said quietly. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me..." I looked at him in his eyes and he stared back into mine. He hugged me, and I hugged him back, a real, silent tear slipping down my face that I hoped he wouldn't notice.            "We should go inside before your mom thinks we've run off together or something," Eric said in attempt to make a joke, but I didn't take it as one. I had considered doing just that. "Rebecca, inside," he said, almost scared that I would turn and make a run for it. Getting out of the car, he steered me inside and up to my room. We sat on the bed facing each other and stared into each other's eyes, lost in each other's soul.            "What are you thinking about Eric?" I asked and leaned against the wall thoughtfully.            "About how beautiful you are, and how one day I wish I could marry you," he replied. "What were you thinking about?"            "How amazing your eyes are, what it will be like if we get married and afterwards..." I replied, and we gazed at each other in admiration for another few moments. It was so cheesy. We had to be the worst non-couple ever. Then Eric did something unexpected. He pulled me into a hug and embraced me with my head against his chest, held me like he never wanted to let me go. I hoped it was true. We stayed this way, completely comfortable in each other's company and both eventually fell asleep.            If there was ever a time to wake up, it was in another's arms. I realized what happened, and that my light was off. My mother must have come and saw us there. The thing that puzzled me was why she let us stay like this. Maybe she was too upset to bother talking to me, and instead just let us be.            I felt Eric shift as he woke, so I smiled, then looked up at him. "Morning," he said quietly.            "Good morning," I replied and continued to smile.            "Should we go down and wait for my dad or do you just want to stay here?"            The real answer? Obviously stay, but I wasn't used to being so close to Eric. He seemed to feel the awkwardness just as much as I did, and so we descended. Upon going into the kitchen and making breakfast, I found a note on the fridge. It said my mother had gone to the hospital to check on Charles, and she'd be back by noon, with or without him.            "Hopefully without him," I said, and Eric looked at the note and shrugged. "It's hopeless, there is nothing I can do to make her quit him. He's probably more addicting than c***k to her, and most people that do c***k would prefer it over their children. Wonderful. Now I can go off and die and she won't care."            "I will," Eric said as he walked back over to the stove to cook the rest of the bacon. The aroma was amazing, like he was cooking it with maple syrup. "Should I make extras in case your mother comes back early enough for breakfast?"            "Don't bother. She'll push her time and probably be late getting home instead of early. I'm sure that she'll be back around two or three this afternoon. It's only nine anyway, it'll be cold by the time she gets back."            "True..." Eric said and put the rest of the bacon back in it's package. "Hey Rebecca?"            "Yeah?"            "I love you."            "I-" I turned to him, letting the note slide from my hand onto the island counter. So, it seems there really is a first time for everything. Was I ready to say it back? Did I mean it? Eric waited to let it sink in, and finally, "I love you too." I think.            At eleven Eric's dad had shown up, taken measurements, assessed what needed to be done and was gone again by quarter after eleven down to the hardware store for a new wooden frame, door, and hinges. He estimated the amount that it was going to cost, and I really couldn't care less. I had found Charles' credit card and pin on top of the fridge. He obviously had a short memory. After all was done and over with, I had the card tapped and was thanking Eric's father for replacing my door. I put the card back exactly where I'd gotten it from and stood with Eric, admiring my new door. By this time, it was almost two in the afternoon, and my mother still wasn't back yet.            "Told you," I said and leaned against Eric a little awkwardly. "She's late, just like I said."            "Yeah," Eric said, putting his arm around me. "You know her better than I do, so it doesn't surprise me a bit that you were right."            I looked over to the door just before it opened. "Look who it is," I said as my mother walked in, followed by Charles who had a look of agony every time he took a step. Eric and I smirked, the vivid memory playing back in my head.            "Well it seems like you'll be okay Charles, that's great news. I should let you know something though," I said, and Eric looked a little puzzled. My mom looked exhausted and her mood wasn't any happier when she heard that, and neither was Charles'. "I didn't make you guys lunch," I said with a mock sad face. "I didn't think you'd be back until a bit later, so I was getting a new door put on my room. I suggest you don't knock this one down," I added and looked at my mother who looked more relieved and actually smiled because I hadn't been… well, me.            "Well, it's only two in the afternoon," my mom said closing the door.            "Exactly, you said you'd be back by twelve," I snapped and turned, walking back up to my room. Eric was only a couple steps behind. Once inside my room, I closed the door again, and instead of sitting on my bed, Eric came right close to me, touching his chest to my back. "Eric? What are you doing?" I asked as I made to turn around to look at him, but he pushed me against the door, my back still to him. This wasn't like him at all. "Eric?!"            "It's not Eric," said a voice that sounded like nothing I'd ever heard before. It was like a demon was standing behind me. His voice enough to send shivers down my spine. All I saw was a black cloud around me, holding me against the door. "You have such beautiful dark chocolate curls," he began. "Those cat-like blue eyes that never miss a thing, I'm surprised that you didn't catch what happened. You're such a smart girl too, that's too bad.”