AmandaAce
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- May 9, 2004
- Posts
- 610
Kate Loughton stood at the window of her parents' kitchen, loudly crunching on a carrot stick and complaining.
"I really do not want to go," she said, leaning back against the counter. Her wavy brown hair fell across her face as she leaned her head back, and she blew it away irritably. Bending over, she reached down and scratched her knee through the hole in her faded jeans.
"Kate, it's a few hours, please," said her mother, Carol. She stood at the counter next to Kate, chopping vegetables. Every so often Kate would reach over and steal another piece from the cutting board. "Who knows? You might have fun and stop moping around here like your life has ended."
"It has," Kate mumbled. She walked over to the refrigerator, her sandals slapping against the tile floor.
"Oh, it has not!" Carol admonished, turning away from the cutting board and pointing at Kate. "You've been here for a week and your attitude is just awful. You are only 25, young lady, stop acting like living here is the end of the world!" Kate shrugged, pulling a bottle of juice from the fridge.
"I'm sorry. I'm just so..." She trailed off, taking a swig from the bottle.
"You're bored. You're in a funk. So come to the Hanson's party with us. It's always so nice, and Cheryl is such a lovely cook --"
"There will be no one I know there, Mom. I am going to stay here." Tossing the bottle back into the fridge, Kate began to leave the room. Carol looked up from the cutting board.
"Wait! Yes there will!" Carol said brightly. "That was what I meant to tell you. I was talking to Cheryl and she said -- remember the Kincaids?"
"No," Kate said, leaning against the doorjamb.
"Yes, you do, they live right down the street. And their son, I cannot for the life of me remember his name -- Darren? I don't know, well, he's moved back in with them and he'll be there, so you can talk to him!" Carol triumphantly returned to chopping vegetables.
"Mom, I don't know any Darren --" Kate turned to leave the room, then stopped. "Wait -- Duncan Kincaid?" she asked.
"Yes!" Carol turned to her. "You went to school with him, right?"
"Yeah, I did." Kate rolled her eyes. "Duncan Kincaid poured Sprite on my head in eighth grade." With that, she turned and left the kitchen. As she walked up the stairs to her room, she considered the party. She would go, she supposed, and have as many free drinks as she could, and then she could come home and have some peace.
"Whatever," she said under her breath, closing the door of her bedroom. She flopped onto her bed and closed her eyes.
"I really do not want to go," she said, leaning back against the counter. Her wavy brown hair fell across her face as she leaned her head back, and she blew it away irritably. Bending over, she reached down and scratched her knee through the hole in her faded jeans.
"Kate, it's a few hours, please," said her mother, Carol. She stood at the counter next to Kate, chopping vegetables. Every so often Kate would reach over and steal another piece from the cutting board. "Who knows? You might have fun and stop moping around here like your life has ended."
"It has," Kate mumbled. She walked over to the refrigerator, her sandals slapping against the tile floor.
"Oh, it has not!" Carol admonished, turning away from the cutting board and pointing at Kate. "You've been here for a week and your attitude is just awful. You are only 25, young lady, stop acting like living here is the end of the world!" Kate shrugged, pulling a bottle of juice from the fridge.
"I'm sorry. I'm just so..." She trailed off, taking a swig from the bottle.
"You're bored. You're in a funk. So come to the Hanson's party with us. It's always so nice, and Cheryl is such a lovely cook --"
"There will be no one I know there, Mom. I am going to stay here." Tossing the bottle back into the fridge, Kate began to leave the room. Carol looked up from the cutting board.
"Wait! Yes there will!" Carol said brightly. "That was what I meant to tell you. I was talking to Cheryl and she said -- remember the Kincaids?"
"No," Kate said, leaning against the doorjamb.
"Yes, you do, they live right down the street. And their son, I cannot for the life of me remember his name -- Darren? I don't know, well, he's moved back in with them and he'll be there, so you can talk to him!" Carol triumphantly returned to chopping vegetables.
"Mom, I don't know any Darren --" Kate turned to leave the room, then stopped. "Wait -- Duncan Kincaid?" she asked.
"Yes!" Carol turned to her. "You went to school with him, right?"
"Yeah, I did." Kate rolled her eyes. "Duncan Kincaid poured Sprite on my head in eighth grade." With that, she turned and left the kitchen. As she walked up the stairs to her room, she considered the party. She would go, she supposed, and have as many free drinks as she could, and then she could come home and have some peace.
"Whatever," she said under her breath, closing the door of her bedroom. She flopped onto her bed and closed her eyes.