She said she's gonna take me to some aerobics class at the gym. One your mom used to go to."
"Wait a second...aerobics class?...You?" you replied in both confusion and disbelief, reminding him that, "You've never set foot in a gym before in your life! Why on earth would you want to go to my mom's aerobics class?"
"Uh, DUH, dude. Isn't it obvious?" he smiled, looking at you like you were an idiot or something for not knowing, "For all the hot woman of course!", this being very much a Randall kind of answer. "I can't wait to see Rebecca's body in a tight-ass Lycra outfit," he continued, rubbing his hand together with glee as he mentally pictured the scene, "And as for the changing rooms...Wow! It's gonna be so freaking awesome!"
"Jesus, Randall! That's my mom's...was my mom's best friend you're talking about here," you angrily told him, finding it uncomfortable enough in the past when he'd mentioned how attractive he found her, and finding it doubly so now that he was doing it with your own mother's visibly excited face (Rebecca being more like an auntie to you at times, having pretty much grown up around her).
This didn't stop Randall however, being pretty much the most sex obsessed guy you knew. "I know. But you've got to admit she's pretty hot," he said, completely ignoring your protest, "Y'know, for like an older chick. A lot of your mom's friend's are. And seeing as I'm unlikely to get any kind of girlfriend now that I'm like this, I've got to get my kicks where I can. Besides, it'll be good to get out and do stuff for a change, even if it is with Rebecca. I've been pretty much cooped up in here all week, playing Xbox and watching TV, and it's not like the two of us can really go out and do the shit we used to anymore." This was in fact the exact same thing you'd been thinking about yourself all day at school, and as he said it, you watched as his enthusiastic smile suddenly turned rather melancholic. "At least you've got school to keep you occupied," he added, thoughtfully, "What have I got?"
Realizing that this was true, your time spent in school perhaps not being the greatest experience or anything, but at least it was doing something; socializing with others and getting out of the house, you decided not to be quite so hard on your friend, telling him with a smile, "I guess. And I suppose doing something is better than nothing, huh?"
"Exactly!" he said, perking up again, "And if I'm gonna have to pretend to be your mom for the rest of my life, I might as well get used to interacting with other people."
"True. Still, I can't really see you doing squat thrusts and leg kicks and all that crap. You used to get out of breath climbing up that tree in the back yard! What was it you always used to say; "Exercise is for chumps"?
"Yeah, well...that was then and this is now," he quickly countered, having indeed never been the sportiest of guys (much preferring Xbox to any kind of outdoor activity), "Besides, running up and down the track in a pair of tight shorts while that creepy perv, Mr. Rogers checked out my ass wasn't exactly my idea of exercise anyway," he then chuckled, before asking with a smirk, "How was gym class today by the way? He still getting you to do 'special favors' for him behind the equipment shed?"
"Fuck you, you asshole!" you laughed, this having been something of a running joke between the two of you that was now made somehow all the more ridiculous coming from the mouth of your mother.
Laughing along with you for a moment, as well as making a few more insinuations as to just what you and your gym teacher got up to, Randall then let out a little sigh and said, "I guess that is one good thing to come out of all this; I don't have to put up with annoying teachers anymore, or any of those jerks in our year."
"Instead, you get to have fun with my mom's best friend discussing washing up powder and what brand of tuna is the cheapest. That's much better."
"You're just jealous," he scoffed, grinning again. "Just cause I got to see her in her underwear and you didn't."
"Dude, seriously! I don't wanna know. She's practically my auntie!"
Thankfully moving on from this subject (though not before muttering to himself, "Yeah, a pretty smoking hot auntie"), Randall then grabbed for the remote and the two controllers that were sitting in front of his feet on the coffee table, and fired your Xbox up. "Anyway, now that you're back," he said, passing one of the controllers to you, "how about I give you another ass whooping at Call of Duty? I believe it's 25 games to 2."
"Is it hell! There's no way you've beaten me that much," you quickly protested, the conversation soon devolving into an argument about video game scores - you and Randall's dynamic in many ways still being very much the same, even if your situation had completely changed. Finally settling on a score than seemed a tad more believable, you looked over at the clock and asked him, "Anyway, what about dinner and stuff?" seeing as in the past, on returning home from school, this would be about the time that you'd have found your actual mother in the kitchen getting things ready.
"What you mean? The pizza menu's right there!" was Randall's response, nudging the menu on the coffee table with a heeled foot.
"Randall, we can't have take out every single night. It's expensive."
You never would have imagined you'd be the one to look after the finances in your household, but seeing as Randall appeared completely oblivious, you felt like you had to step in, aware that all these things you'd never even considered before and that your mother had dealt with were now going to be sitting squarely on your best friend's shoulder (your best friend who had just happened to have flunked math).
"So? Who cares?" he shrugged, his attention now firmly fixed on the television screen as he reminded you, "We've still got all that money from the hospital for keeping quiet remember? We can probably have take out every single night for the next ten years if we want to."
Replying with, "We didn't get that much, dude," shattering your friend's allusions (the payout having been substantial sure, but not enough to make you think that all of your worries were over), "We can't just throw it all away on food. We might need it some time," before then adding, on a more personal note, "Besides, I'm kind of getting sick of take out. Can't you...you know, maybe cook something instead?"
This suggestion caused Randall to instantly stop what he was doing and turn to look at you like you were insane."Me?...Cook something?! Uh, screw that, Tim. I don't know how to cook!"
Not that he had any choice in the matter really. One of you was going to have to learn how, or you were going to end up starving to death. And seeing as how he was technically now your mother, it made the most sense that he be the one to do it. "Well, you might wanna learn soon. Being 'my mom' isn't just going to the gym and perving on Rebecca you know."
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author