kiss me i'm irish

Young Adam lives in his own stupid teenage world. When will he ever wake up and smell the pimple cream? And what is the truth behind all the lies about his fake irish girlfriend Moose?
Is Moose a real name anyway?

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8. Reilly Turner

"We got another one!" Gena shouted, waving a torn off piece of carbon at me, her septum ring jigging about once more. She'd changed it to a pink sleeper that I'd seen her wearing in one of her multiple ear piercings. Gena's wan smile didn't indicate she was upset, just that she never really smiled very well.
"Name?"
"Reilly Turner, sixteen, no pimples, no moles but her lips are pretty small . . ."
"Is that a girls name?"
"Reilly? Yeah it is. My cousin's name is Peta."
"Ha. Gena, Peta. What's next?"
"Well, on our list; Reilly. Are you in?"
"I don't really have a choice Gena."
"Then I'll set the two of you up next Thursday at a pizza joint. How about it? Can you do Thursday?"
"Thanks Gena. I appreciate what your doing for me."
"Oh Lord, after Douglas hit me I know how desperate you are. Coz the same hand came down on your face too, you know."
"Aha, yeah."
"Well? Go shave? Go . . . . wax! Go  . . . .  take a shower."
"It's Sunday."
"And you're date is in four days, so get a head start!"

 

So I took Gena's advice and went to wash up. I decided if I wanted to meet a girl who was going to really like me, I was going to have to do some work on myself. Like buy a suit . . . and pimple cream.
So Gena volunteered to take me out shopping.
She's had a license for two years now. Scary to think and scary to know. Simply because Gena and cars go together like chalk and cheese. She is simply to nuts to drive. In other words, she's all over the road.
Suprisingly enough, we did make it to Factory alive. There was a Rivers a block away, the neon sign glowing in the five o'clock afternoon light and we kept that in mind.
Gena led me inside, combing through hangers and different patterned suits in the back. (yeah they sold suits.) I suprised at the stock.
A short, ocre-tanned woman with unnatural 70's Blond hair dye and multiple necklaces and zero piercings (which Gena seemed preoccupied in staring at (her ears)) shuffled up to us in ugly Kitten Heels and smiled the neatest smile I'd ever seen.
"How can I help you, guys?" Her voice was warm like a blowlamp.
"We're looking for a suit. Preferably a dark blue suit, one that looks sort of casual as well." Gena informed her, not even coldly like she usually does to shop attendants (no reason.)
The woman seemed more than happy to help us out. Perhaps we were the first people in the store for the day. Ther ewere a few eighteen year old half-an-hourers browsing about the clothes on their work breaks but besides that we were the only real customers.
"Sure! Sure; we have many different colours for suits. Dark blue; I'm sure we have that. If you would follow me, I can show you a few designs."
The woman showed us a bunch of suits. Many differnet colours. Red pleated, navy blue, yellow checkered . . . 
I wanted to just go home. It was cold out, it was Monday. I had a PDH and Science half yearly exam in the morning neither of which I had studied for and plus I had no money. I figured Gena was pitching in. I did care about getting a girl to like me, but for what? So Douglas wouldn't call me a liar? So he'd think I was cool? Come. On. He already thought I was a cheater.
"This one!" Gena shouted, jumping a bit in her wedges.
"Huh?" I was fished out of my daze.
"Try this one on!"
"Nah, I think I'm going to go home."
Gena's smile fell away as her face dropped. Melissa (so it said on her name tag) also gawked.
"I'm tired."
"We came here for you to buy a suit and your buying a suit for heavens sake."
I moaned, irritated by Gena's enthusiastic yet mad statement.
"Oh good; then try this on!"
Melissa was no friend of mine. She seemed immediately cheerful that I was staying, and perceptive of Gena's in-control leadership role. She held out a beaming sun-yellow suit, peeling it off it's hanger, still holding it under my nose hairs.
"Uhm, I think we should go home Gena." Melissa slouched.
"I think you would look absolutely stunning in this suit."
"I think you would think that. Thank you for your service, come on Gena, I'll just wear cargo . . ."
"Adam !"
" Och - Gena!"
Gena turned to Melissa, still half-disgusted in her piercingless body and wanly smiled, showing her top teeth only.
"I'll think we'll come back later," she finally gave in.
"Oh?" Melissa was disappointed.
"Thank you though."
"OK, have a good night." Melissa didn't seem like she wanted us to have a good night. Rather choke on our dinner or get hit by a semi-trailer type of  have a good night.

"'What's your problem?" Gena hissed as we drove home, her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. "I thought you didn't have a choice."
"It's  . . .  i'm tired alright. I just need to . . .  sleep."
"But you also need . . .  a girl!"
"Gee, then why don't you put some makeup on and learn an Irish accent."

Gena was silent. She sunk deep into the furry tiger-print seat cover.
"What are you saying?" She said morosely. "That I'm not a girl?"
"Wha - of course you are. But you don't wear makeup and you've got some bull ring sticking out of your nostril and  . . ."
"And what?" Gena shouted, stung. Her volume rised.
"Gena, I mean  . . ."
"I do wear makeup. Just thin foundation and nude lip gloss. I don't have anyone to impress."
The  ress of her impress slowed as her eyes met mine.
"You know what?" She slammed her foot on the break. "Get the hell out of my car Adam."
"What?"
"You've pushed it. You don't need me. Get out and walk. Oh, and you're paying petrol because you've wasted my freaking night!"

 

 

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