The Art of Getting By

Chapter Two

No. I shake my head, attempt to rid myself of the thoughts of the teacher. Stop Danny, you're being a weirdo. Whatever conversation my parents are having about the famous Mr. Price is abandoned as I say a hurried goodnight and run up to my room. Time to look for a job.

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"Yo Danny boy!" Ethan's obnoxious voice shouts through my cellphone. With a pained grimace I pull the phone away from my ear. I scroll down the town's webpage, setting my cell down onto the table and putting it on speaker. The job search isn't going as well as I would like. I thought that if I started last night and applied for at least one I would be in a good place for today. Instead, I had spent the whole of my Friday searching through the listings, watching reruns of adventure time, and eating way too much junk food. The whole day I had only found one possible job that I could apply for. The listing was for the McDonalds in the next town over, but let's just say I'm not jumping out of my seat at that opportunity.

"What has you so energetic this late?" I ask glancing at the clock on my computer it reads 7:30 PM. The sun has already set so the air outside has an extra bite.

"It's Friday night! Let's meet up dude!" He continues to yell. I wonder if he's started to lose his hearing from the rap he blasts at every given moment. "Ady's down too, I'm on my way to pick her up now then we'll head on over to yours to get you."

"So you're not really asking me, more like informing me." I droll dully, semi annoyed at their lack of consideration. I get over it quickly though because knowing myself, I would never leave the house unless they forced me. Ethan is equally aware of this fact, I mean we have been best friends our entire lives. There isn't much we can hide from each other.

"You know you love it. We'll be there in fifteen." He says and hangs up before I can say another word. Great now I have to actually make myself look human or at least put some pants on. The only shampoo in the shower is a spider-man kid shampoo that smells suspiciously like Swedish fish. Not really a bad alternative. I love Swedish Fish. I lather my scalp generously with the goop moving as quickly as I can. When I get downstairs my mom is sitting at the table with her planner out across the table.

When my mom has her planner out it's never good. I try to move as quietly as I can as to not disturb the beast. Open the hall closet as carefully as I can, turning the handle a millimeter at a time. When it's wide enough for me to stick my arm in I carefully pull my jean jacket out. I think I've made it but then as soon as I start to slip my arm into the sleeve her voice cuts me off.

"Danny come here." Damn It. I inwardly groan and slam my forehead against the wood of the closet door.

"Coming!" I sing out, hiding the annoyance in my voice as best as I can. I pull my jacket on as I enter the kitchen slinking over to where my mom is scribbling away. "What's up?" I'm praying that she isn't about to force me to stay home and work on some stupid work project with her. Sometimes she does that when she needs a second opinion. Usually my opinion ends up just reaffirming hers because I really could care less about her business deals.

Mom looks up from her calendar with a smile, "Donna and I are planning to throw a welcoming party for Mr. Price at the church this Sunday."

I try to pretend that I care, forcing what I hope looks like an excited smile to my face. "That's great mom. You have fun with that." I sincerely hope that she isn't expecting me to be a part of this welcoming party.

"Yes, we are thinking to do it after the meeting in the back pavilion near the park." I itch my nose uninterestedly. Turn to look at the mirror that hangs over the cupboard near the stairs, fix the bent collar of my jacket. "The only problem is he's not answering his phone." I know this annoys her. She hates when people don't answer their phones. She fails to realize that not everyone in the world eats, breaths and sleep with their phone at every second.