Just Kidding (SWAT Generation 2.0 1)

Dax flicked his eyes once more to me, then to my father. I watched from my perch on Derek’s back as he tried to get me off without hurting me.

“Yep,” he said, eyes filled with amusement. “Ready when you are.”

Dad and Dax left.

Katy and Logan left.

My mom left.

Leaving just me and Derek on the back porch.

He hadn’t spilled a single drop of his coffee.

“For the love of all that’s holy, Rowen,” he growled, grabbing hold of my leg and squeezing. “I swear to God. If you don’t get off, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

I let him go, then made sure to stick my tongue out at him.

“I told you I had an appointment,” he grumbled darkly, looking at his very wet t-shirt.

I rolled my eyes and walked into the house, uncaring that I was dripping on the floor.

“Hey, I hope you’re going to clean that up!” my mom said from the counter.

“I’m not cleaning up shit,” I told her. “You deserve the wet puddles, thank you very much.”

My mom snickered as she grabbed her keys and her purse and started out the door.

I ignored her too and made a hasty retreat to my room. By the time I got back out, Derek was shrugging into one of my dad’s t-shirts that said, “Beer me, please.”

“Nice,” I said as I studied the shirt. “What’s this appointment for?”

He ignored me.

“Why couldn’t you take Dad to work?” I wondered.

“Because I have to go to a doctor’s appointment before I go in today,” Derek answered.

I must’ve missed that part of the conversation earlier.

Not that it would’ve changed what I did or anything.

“I have somewhere I need to go,” I said. “Can I go with you?”

Derek narrowed his eyes.

“Where?” he asked.

I ran my hand down my neck.

“One, I need to go look for a job,” I told him. “And two, I have to find a better place to stay.”

He frowned. “Why not stay here?”

I looked to make sure that my parents weren’t anywhere near, then lowered my voice.

“Because there is only so much I can listen to them have sex,” I whispered. “And my room’s always been the closest.”

Derek burst out laughing. “You can stay with me.”

If I had to deal with one more night of my parents doing it, I just might take him up on that.Chapter 4Stop what you’re doing. Google ‘why Cornflakes were invented.’ You’re welcome.

-Text from Rowen to Katy

Rowen

I took Dax’s advice and showed up at the lawyer’s office a little after eight that next morning.

I wasn’t sure if that was too early or too late, but when I arrived, there was a woman rushing around as if she was lost and needed direction.

“Hello!” she said as she rushed to get her shoes on. “I’m sorry, I’ll be with you in just a minute. My son just decided to shit on me.”

I covered my mouth with my hand and tried not to laugh.

Really, I did.

But I couldn’t help it.

It was just too funny.

She laughed with me and rushed to get her shirt tucked in.

“I have court in eighteen minutes,” she said. “Jesus Christ have mercy. Today was the first day of school, my husband isn’t here yet, and my son just shit everywhere. It’s literally all over my office couch.”

I scratched my head, then walked farther into the room.

“Do you have any cleaning supplies?” I asked.

“Yes.” She pointed. “But you’re not cleaning up shit. I’m sorry. It’s a nice gesture, but I won’t let you.”

Just then a lean, smaller man rushed through the door.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he yelled, not seeing me from where I was standing. “That school drop off is a fucking joke of epic proportions. How fucking hard is it to drop your kids off and fucking leave? But nooo! Blue Suburban guy had to get out of his truck, open all the doors, unload his back hatch of backpacks. Pose for pictures, give each kid a hug and a kiss. Twice. Then he left. After watching them walk all the way in the building. The least he could’ve done was park and do all that shit.”

My lips twitched at his words.

“Oh, hello,” he said. “Who are you?”

“Your son just shit all over the couch!” the woman yelled. “I have to leave. Can you handle that?”

The man was already nodding. “Yes, dear.”

She was out the door in less than two seconds.

The man looked at me.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

I licked my lips. “I’m here to apply for a job.”

He blinked. “Are you a receptionist?”

I shook my head. “No, sir.”

“A cleaning lady?” he wondered.

“No, sir.”

“Do you know how to cook?” he asked.

I paused at that. “Yes.”

“Would you like a job as a nanny?” he wondered.

I grinned at that. “No, sir. I’m a lawyer. I just graduated. I have a year of interning under my belt. I’ve passed the Bar exam. And I’m local, I’d love to work in the town that I grew up in.”