As always:
Thanks to Boheminxen for editing. Without your correcting of my awful grammar, this would be mindless drivel.
The Mediator:
I have two jobs in life. Seeing that I'm a senior in High School, people may think I'm pushing myself too hard, but both are absolute necessities. My first employment is working an oversized dishwashing machine part-time at Shenanigan's, a restaurant known for its overpriced, crappy steaks. It sucks, but at least that job pays me. My other job is more along the lines of daily maintenance. I never get a day off, and I am not paid. Friends have told me they are jealous of my situation, not comprehending what all it entails. I understand why they tell me that – not every eighteen-year-old guy gets to live with a pair of young women. At twenty-three and eighteen years of age, both are young stunners. One likes me, and the other loves me. The problem lies when they are together.
I am a buffer between my girlfriend, Amy, and her sister, Lauren. Though Amy's hair is longer and a shade darker, both slender brunettes are rather similar in appearance. They always seem to be at each other's throats ever since their parents passed away in a car accident six years ago. Seventeen at the time, Lauren got emancipation by the state, found a job and took care of her younger, then thirteen-year-old sister. Amy despised that her elder sister was telling her what to do.
When I was present, I saw both sides, and they both valued my opinion, trying to get me to convince the other they were wrong. I was great at getting them to compromise. I always felt bad for Lauren – giving up your life at a young age to take care of her sister had to be tough. Her dreams remained only that – dreams. As for Amy, she resented that Lauren was trying to replace her mother, especially when she knew what Lauren did when she was her age. She wanted the freedom her sister had. Both were mature and very capable women outside the house, never getting into serious trouble, but for some reason, the two would complain and bicker constantly about the inconsequential to each other. Maybe it was their way of showing how much they cared for each other. If they didn't yell, they would go back to the way things were – peaceful, quiet, blissful –, and the two of them going their own ways in life, not sharing or caring that the other existed.
I arrived home from my job that pays with the clock telling me it was nearing midnight. Walking up the short path to the front door, I heard the two at it again. However, this wasn't a normal altercation. I dreaded opening the door as they were fighting about me. I caused this quarrel, and I am unsure I'll be able to play peacemaker this time. It started, as with most arguments do, with something simple and innocent – something all three of us happily agreed to five months prior: I moved in.
My father married his seventh wife in nineteen years and with her, moving two states away. I didn't want to go, and I made no effort to hide my displeasure. My life was here. I only had four months until graduation, and regardless of where I live, I'm just going to be back here in the fall for college anyway. I'm captain of the debate team, and I didn't want to leave all my friends behind.
Of course, there is also Amy. In all honesty, she is the only reason I objected to the move. I've been with her since seventh grade, first as friends, then as a couple, then later as lovers. I was determined to stay. I didn't want her to feel abandoned by someone else she cared about. I shouldn't leave her. I couldn't. I wouldn't. I just didn't know how.
A week before the move, Amy and I were sitting on her couch, holding hands, weighing my options. I had a headache from all the stress, and she was on the verge of tears as her worries were beginning to get the best of her.
"With the money from my part-time job, I could stay at the Aphid Motel. It'd be tight, but I could make it. I'm just not sure what to do about food," I stated, more as a question than an answer.
"I'm afraid staying one night in there, you'd end up with every disease known to man. I swear that place is the center for disease control's wet dream. You'd need a hazmat suit to sleep in there." We both laughed at the joke, a much-needed release of tension. "Seriously though, did you ask Jared?" Amy bit her lower lip, indicating it was her last plausible idea.
"I did, but his parents said no." I lowered my head, disheartened.
"Why didn't you ask to stay here?"
Both our heads shot up to find Lauren had entered the living room.
"Lauren, are you serious? He can stay here?" Amy asked cautiously, not wanting to give her hopes up.
"Of course," Lauren said with a slightly amused look. "We'd have to set some ground rules, and if you don't mind Matt... Um, money is kind of tight around here, so if you could help out a little, it would be appreciated." She said that last part as if she were embarrassed.
"I'll give you my whole paycheck if I have to." My excitement was through the roof. "Thank you, Lauren."
"You're the best, Lauren," Amy added.
That may have been the first time I ever heard Amy compliment her sister to her face. I was moved in within two days.
Lauren was really cool about everything. Since we were both eighteen, she let us sleep in the same bed. How awesome was that. I'm certain she heard us as Amy and I were at it nearly every night. I kept up my end of the bargain as every two weeks I handed Lauren $200 out of my paycheck. I only kept enough for gas and taking Amy out on occasion. Lauren almost cried when I gave it to her. She tried being chivalrous, saying it was too much, but I was adamant. I was eternally grateful not having to leave Amy; I only wish I could do more.
Suddenly, I was the man of the house. Kill spiders, check. Open an unyielding jar of spaghetti sauce, check. Mow the lawn, check. Catch a mouse, check. They were in another one of their squabbles when that furry little thing came along, and next thing I knew, they were hugging each other while standing on the couch. After seeing that, I truly felt bad for having to dispose of it.
It became an interesting family dynamic. I was Amy's boyfriend and gladly did everything that entails. We hung out socially, did high school events, helped her navigate the drama that is being a senior, and of course, sex. To Lauren, I became a virtual husband and did everything that description dictates. I helped pay the bills, did some household chores and did general home maintenance. From changing light bulbs to fixing a plumbing problem, thank you YouTube, I was the go to guy.
After four months, Lauren began acting a little unusual. She would say things that would leave my head spinning. One Saturday morning, I had just gotten up and was heading to the bathroom when our paths crossed.
"Good morning, Lauren," I yawned and then wiped the sleep from my eyes.
"Good morning, Matt," Lauren replied with a smile. "I hope we didn't wake you."
"No, what was it this time?" I asked curiously, hoping I could diffuse the situation before it escalated again.
"I told her she needs to keep it down at night – people are trying to sleep."
