FicWad

A week later, I was lying on my bed, listening to music and drawing when
Jimmy suddenly burst in.
"Tammy, phone's for you."
"Jesus Christ, Jim, don't fucking scare me like that. Who is it?"
"It's Gerard." She laughed.
"Shut up and give me the phone."
She tossed it to me quickly before leaning up against the door frame, smirking.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Tammy."
"Hi, Gerard."
"What's up?"
"Nothing much."
"Cool."
"Mhm..."
"So, I was wondering, are you and Jimmy busy of Christmas?"
"Uh, no, not really."
"Good, because we were wondering if you would like to come to our Christmas party."
"Um, hold on."
"Okay."
"Jim, you want to go to their Christmas Party?"
She nodded.
"Okay, we'll come."
"Wow, that was faster than last time."
I laughed.
"Yeah. So who's all coming?"
"Everyone that was there last time," he laughed, "it's just a reason to party."
"Oh, cool."
"Yeah. My parents are going out, so it'll be fun."
"Okay."
"So, uh, what are you doing tomorrow?"
"I have work." I replied. I began examining my nails and Jimmy, figuring I wasn't going to be involving her in the conversation anymore, left.
"When?"
"Twelve to nine."
"On a Saturday?"
"Yep. Holiday rush."
"Damn, what about Sunday?"
"Same."
"Why do you work so much?"
"I need the money. I get paid time and a half for working after five on weekends."
"How much do you get regular?"
"$8.50 an hour."
"Fucking rights. Maybe I should work at a bookstore."
I laughed.
"That's just holiday pay. I usually get $6.50."
"Still, it's better than what I get."
"What do you get?"
"Ten bucks a week."
"What? Where do you work?"
"Home."
"Allowance?"
"Yup."
"Fucking lazy ass."
"Mhm."
"Anyways, Gerard, I'd better get off of here."
"Alright, I'll phone you tomorrow around eleven."
"Okay, bye."
"See ya."
I hang up, putting the phone down beside me.
"So?"
I looked up, startled at Jimmy, who had come back in.
"What?"
"What'd he say?"
"Nothing. He just wanted to know what I was doing tomorrow."
"I wonder why..."
"Shut up and... go watch, hockey or something."
Monday night, I walked in the front door of my house carrying about ten bags.
"What's that?" Jimmy questioned, looking up from her place on the couch.
"Christmas presents.
"Cool. Is mine in there?"
"Yes, and no, you can't see it."
She frowned.
"You suck."
"Well, you blow."
"You suck balls."
"You blow Frank."
She glared at me.
"Fuck you."
"No thanks. I don't support incest."
"Gross..."
I left her there to watch her stupid sports, walking up the stairs to my room. I threw the bags on my bed and opened one, taking out a pack of wrapping paper tubes, tape and ribbon.
"Well, I guess I should get started."