"James, honey! Hurry up now or you'll be late for your first day at school!"
"I'm coming, just a second!"
I stood in front of the mirror combing my brown hair while looking at my physique. I am about five feet and ten inches in height which is considered average for an 18 year old American man. I also possess a long and quite angular face, and sport short but slightly fuzzy brown hair which, I tried to style to those of my favorite actor James Dean. I also have these green eyes which my ex-girlfriend once cheesily told me, "I love it when you stare at me with those eyes." The downside though was my body. While it was a good thing that I didn't inherit my father's pudgy build, which I liked to thank God for every now and then, it still wasn't exactly the kind of body men aspire to have or which most girls love to rave at. I have a very skinny body and have lots of body hair which I got from my father's genes. Also every time I tried to flex my biceps on the mirror, it was as if my own reflection laughed at me for the attempt, "Come on buddy, you can't be serious?" While I tried my best at sports, even joining and participating in various sports clubs like basketball, soccer, and baseball, I just wasn't gifted athletically. That or maybe I just wasn't dedicated.
So in short, while I wasn't ugly, I also wasn't handsome in particular and there was also nothing special about me. Perhaps this was why my ex-girlfriend ditched me in favor of the star jock in my previous school. Well, she was also an unfaithful slut who liked to sleep around with other people behind my back.
"Come on honey, have your breakfast or you'll be late."
After having lived in a small town in Nebraska for whole of my life, my family and I had to move to New York City just about three day ago because of my father's new job . So not only was it going to be my first day at my new school, it also was going to be my first time as the "new kid", an unfamiliar feeling.
"I better not be late."
I smelled something delicious as I made my way towards the kitchen. I then saw my mum frying bacon and eggs. She was wearing an apron with the words "The Best Mom in the World" emblazoned on it. "Finally, here you are. I thought you didn't want to be late for your first day at school."
Beneath the apron, she had a white tank-top that exposed her slim waist from the sides and the base of her spine. She also wore very short jean shorts that displayed her beautiful legs and shapely butt. Her hair on the other hand was tied up in a ponytail.
"Eat it all up okay?" my mum smiled as she scooped up the bacon and the eggs from a skillet onto a plate then handed it to me.
Eva, my mum, is a very beautiful woman in her early 30s and is of English and Russian descent. She has long and wavy black hair, an angular shaped face with high cheekbones, and a sharp-nose that made her look like Kate Beckinsale. She also has a curvy body; a large bosom and a round-like butt. She stands just a few inches shorter than me which makes her already tall for a woman. My mum likes to maintain her figure through regular exercise plus a mix of strict but healthy diet, involving salads and lean meat while limiting her carbs. She likes to wake up very early in the morning and play Wii Fit or do aerobics while watching the TV. She also jogs outside whenever she can. Her new job will probably help her become even more fit as she just recently got a gig at a diner as a cook and waitress.
Her dedication to herself and our family amazes me, considering she used to be a wild "party girl"-- or so I heard back in high school before she met my dad who was in college then. Also from what I've searched online, my mum was once Miss Teen USA. I've even seen some pictures of her looking stunning in gowns and a swimsuit. According to the forums and articles however, she was caught in a big scandal. Someone had leaked that she was pregnant at the time. Copies of doctor's documents were even sent to the media. Despite after having technically won the competition, the committee ordered her to return her crown amidst the protests from parents and feminists groups. To me though, those things don't matter really. I even laugh that it was a good thing that she was pregnant at the time and that she didn't abort me. I love my beautiful mum for who she is and am just glad to have her around.
"So what's for breakfast, honey?" My dad asked as he gave my mum a short kiss on the lips. "Just your favorite darling, bacon and eggs," my mother replied. While looking at them, it still amazes me to this day how my father managed to bag a beautiful woman like her. My father, whose full name is Gregory Michael Hamilton Smith, was a man of stocky build but almost overweight. In comparison to my height and to that of my mum,he was the shortest of us. He had brown hair similar to mine but already with lots of grey and white speckles even though he was only in his early 40s. He also had blue eyes, which were kept well hidden behind wide-circular framed glasses that made his face look rounder than it was. His choice of facial hair also didn't help, which, coupled with his other features, made him look like a cross between a geek and a lumberjack.
Still my dad, in spite of his not-so-good looking appearance was an optimistic, honest and hardworking character. Having been laid off from his previous job in a bank due to the recession, and despite having worked there for ten years as the marketing manager, my dad had to work various jobs for two years to support the family. Because my dad was unable to get a job similar to his previous profession for reasons such as no available work or heavy competition from younger applicants, he had to work blue-collar jobs. For example, he had worked as a plumber, carpenter, and auto-mechanic and even once as a fast food mascot just to meet our bills. I even remember during those times that my mum cried when we had to sell one of our cars and some of our furniture. My dad however was always there to comfort her and even making jokes. "Don't cry. I just sold them because we are buying new ones, honey," quipped my father while wiping the tears away from his wife. The optimism paid well in the end, however, as my father managed to secure a job again as a marketing manager. The catch however was that he had to move to New York City.
After I finished my breakfast, I said goodbye to both my mum and dad and then set my way out of the front door of our unit. We lived on the eighth floor of a ten floor flat and it was a good thing our building had a lift or I would have to use the stairs. It would have been exhausting.
As soon as I reached the lift, I pressed the button and waited for a few seconds. The bell soon chimed and what greeted me inside was a Goth looking chick with blonde pigtails. She was fidgeting with her cell as I entered.
While waiting inside the lift, I decided to glance at the girl texting beside me. She was quite petite. Her short hair had some black streaks in it, and her bangs parted towards her left covering that part of her face. She was wearing a pink shirt that exposed her mid-riff and outlined the small cups of her breasts. For her lower part, she had khaki brown trousers and had black sneakers. Aside from earrings, several piercings adorned her earlobe. While eyeing her waist, I also saw a piercing on her navel. "Some sort of rocker/hipster chic, I suppose? Still she's cute" I thought.
She caught me staring, however, then gave me a mean glare in response. "What? You got a problem?" she said. I quickly replied with, "No" and then shifted my sight towards the door of the lift as if nothing happened. We then reached the ground floor, and as soon as we exited I heard her mutter something. "Weirdo" was the word I believe.
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