IT ISN'T supposed to be everyday in which Finn wakes up to the smell of burning sausages with the sound of expletives being yelled into the air. Unfortunately in the Carter household, morning situations like this are typically normal and if they did not occur almost everday, then something was askew.

Rubbing his bleary eyes, Finn throws the blankets clinging to his body off to the side where it lands on the floor with an unceremonious thump. He stretches and lets out a moan fit for a porn star and scratches the hem of his boxers where a sudden morning itch has arisen. He tries not to picture the other morning surprise courtesy of the frigid autumn weather, and a perk of being a teenage boy.

Down below in the kitchen area, he hears his father mulling about and the sounds of pans being dropped - along with a thud. Finn envisions his father hitting his head on top of the cabinets. His lanky 6'3 frame constantly creates problems in their all-too tiny, one-story home.

"Shit!" Michael Carter exclaims. His curse is instantaneously followed by the beeping of the fire alarm. It rings loudly from down the hall, infiltrating Finn's sleep-sensitive ears.

Finn lets out a sigh and bends down to retrieve an old shirt from the floor. He picks up two - a collared white shirt with a grease stain and an embarrassing digimon tee from his younger years - and gives both a hesitant sniff. Sighing again, he reluctantly chooses the twelve-year old memorabilia and discards the other option, where it falls back to the ground along with its other clothing compadres.

He makes sure to grab his glasses off the night stand before throwing open his closet and digging out the fire extinguisher kept there for emergency reasons.

(As in his father attempting to cook breakfast.)

(And occassionally lunch.)

(Always ready at hand for dinner.)

With another exasperated sigh (Finn had a bad habit of constantly sighing, along with ruffling his already messy hair), he opens his bedroom door to the smell of burning sausages and the sound of expletives being shouted into the air, and prepares himself for another mundane day.

Upon entering the kitchen, Finn realizes all too quickly that it is as much of a chaotic mess as he had imagined.

Scattered on the tiles below are hoards of pancakes - some burned, some still frothing in batter. A sunny side up egg is plastered against the cabinets, and on the stove is a pot with an unassuming appetizer, boiling and gurgling like a zombie risen from the dead. Beside it in a small pan are three sausages burnt to a crisp.

And awfully on fire.

Then there is the mess that is Michael Carter. Finn's father stands in front of the pan with a disapproving yet frightened expression. The man is wearing his wife's old 'kiss the cook' apron, and the pink seems to clash with his Dodgers tank and holy boxers. He prods the fire with his spatula, only to be met with the sausages exploding into a bigger flame.

Finn takes his regular spot beside his father, hoisting up the fire extinguisher with a grunt and hosing down the flames until they dwindled to ash. The pair stand side by side and watch the scene in front of them, listening to the fire alarm sounding around the kitchen.

"Thanks, son."

"Anytime, Dad."

---

Because of the odor now emanating through the Carter residence, Finn takes it upon himself to rummage through various drawers until he finds exactly what he's looking for. He has a triumphant grin as he holds up a small jar labeled 'autumn leaves' and snatches a lighter from the counter.

"Stop," his father whines, "I don't want this house smelling like stale deodorant."

"It's autumn, Dad. Suck it up," Finn calls over his shoulder and lights the Yankee Candle despite his father's protests. "It's only necessary to get into the fall spirit. Liven up."

"I'm forty-three, I think I'm good on life." His old man mutters back. The older Carter is sitting in one of the chairs behind the ragged dining table. In front of him are two perfectly cooked omelettes (courtesy of Finn) and a glass of orange juice. His arms are crossed as he scowls at the well-prepared meal before deciding his spite is insignificant because man, is he starving.

As Finn's dad shoves a forkful of egg into his mouth, Finn himself finishes cleaning up the mess on the floor. Though his father insisted on doing it himself, the sudden revelation that autumn has begun has Finn in an ecstatic mood - one that cannot be brought down by another kitchen fire.

Because Finn really fucking loves autumn.

He likes that it's a season that isn't too cold or too hot, and though some might argue that spring is like that, he argues that at least the pre-winter season doesn't create disasters of allergies. Finn likes the fact that autumn holds the holiday of Halloween (he doesn't like to dress up, but handing out candy and scaring people is fun) and that he can wear sweaters to hide his scrawny arms and nonexistant muscles. He likes the hot chocolate that his father would make, courtesy of his mother's secret recipe, and he especially likes the scenery.

The way the leaves change color and float off the branches of trees, scattering below at his feet, give him a sense of elation. He likes to think it symbolizes breaking away or the idea of creating something new or starting fresh.

And because it's so damn pretty.

"Got any plans today?" His dad asks. His voice is muffled through all the food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Finn chides, but his father is a lost cause. It's almost as if the two are switched: Finn is the dad, and Michael is the son.

"Didn't answer the question."

"No."

"No as in, yes you didn't answer the question, or no as in, no I have no plans?"

"The second one."

"Loser."

"Dad!"

Michael laughs; the sound is like the soft rumble of an engine. He sets down his fork to turn and give his son a stern look. "It's only the second week back to school. Why don't you ask some of your friends to hang out? It's a saturday for God's sake. Go play outside. Or inside. Because X-Box. Wait, on second thought, I want to play X-Box - you should stay outside."

Finn gives his father a pointed look and considers his options. One: he could simply stay inside, hog the X-Box to himself and be the loner that he is. Or two: invite his nonexistent friends to chill outside.

Finn eyes the console in the living room, just across the kitchen. Michael notices this and his eyes narrow.

They both leap for the controller.

---

"How about Vince?"

"A mere acquaintance, dear father."

"Jackson?"

"Uses me for homework."

"Paul?"

"He was my friend in first grade, Dad."

"Okay, fine. Why don't you finally gain the balls to ask out that Adelaide chick?"

Finn's attention has diverted from the Call of Duty game in the screen ahead only to give his father a horror-stricken expression. His dad grins and shoots Finn's character before raising a fist to the air and hollering, "I won! Up for a second round, kiddo?"

Finn is still in a daze and only when the sound of gun shots signal that his father has started another match does Finn pause the game with his lips pressed into a straight line.

"Hey!" His father groans.

"What did you say?"

Michael leans back against the sofa with his arms extended towards either side, hanging limply behind the couch. "Fi, I think you heard me loud and clear."

"You know I can't do that."

"Dude, you've been pining over her since freshman year."

"Okay, first off: don't say dude," Finn scowls, "Second: I told you she doesn't like me like that."

"Well how do you know that for sure?"

"Because."

"Because?"

"Because." Finn reiterates, because nothing is more definitive than the word because.

His father gives a pointed look and deadpans, "Unpause the game, Finn."

After a brief staredown, Finn surrenders and hits the unpause button on his controller. All at once, the enemies in the game start surrounding his character and annihilating him. Finn lets out an exasperated sigh.

"You know, I know her mother from tech support. I could get Adelaide's number for you."

"Dad, shut up and leave me alone to die." On cue, his character heaves a final breath before sinking to the ground in a bloodied heap.

Much like Finn's ego.

---

It isn't long before Finn's father has to leave for his shift at the call center where he works. Because his shift runs late into the early morning, Finn spends a lot of time in the home alone. Not that he minded.

Michael grabs his coat from the closet along with a fluffy hat, and opens the front door. Immediately, the frigid autumn breeze hollows past Finn and he shivers involuntarily.

"Well, would you look at that." His father remarks with a whistle. "The Jefferson house was finally sold."

"You're shitting me."

"No, come look." His father moves aside so that Finn can peer past the doorframe into his next door neighbor's front lawn.

The Jefferson's had moved away quite a long time ago, and it had always been a given that their house would never get sold. Finn's neighborhood is not a very well-known nor friendly environment. It's where the artisans and college dropouts and people like Finn lived.

Yet, the family who's moving van is currently parked in the driveway of the Jefferson's old house seems anything but.

The furniture brought out are clean and proper. They look expensive and delicate, as if a single touch could ruin the varnish. Items like a grand piano and a chandelier are being hoisted onto the asphalt by men in jumpsuits.

It is only after the car doors begin to open that Finn realizes that a yellow Volkswagen bug is parked behind the white moving van. They must be the new neighbors.

Both Carter boys watch with curious eyes as a slender bare leg peaks out from under the door. Soon, a beautiful woman in her early thirties rises from the small bug. Her blonde hair is piled into a neat bun that is prim and proper on the top of her head. She wears a business skirt and dressy blouse that hug her curves.

Finn's dad whistles.

On the opposite side of the vehicle, another figure emerges. It is another woman, just as beautiful as the first. She is more built and sturdy, with a little more muscle than the other woman. She is dressed in camouflage military attire with her cap placed low over her eyes. Her darker skin glows in the sunlight, and the light bounces off her aviators.

Finn's dad lets out another whistle.

The two women meet up at the front of the house, where they glance at the place that will mark their new home. Then they turn to each other with a smile and kiss.

His father's whistle dies in his mouth.

"Didn't see that coming?" Finn asks, amused.

"All the good women are either married, gay, or fictional. I'm out." His father mumbles a little disappointedly before bidding his farewells and departing for work.

Though his dad has gone, Finn closes the door and huddles by the window at the front of his house. He doesn't consider it spying; he just wants to see more of what his new neighbors are like. Making sure the autumn scented candle is beside him, and that he is now fully covered by the blanket he had retrieved, Finn stares out the window and watches.

It is about a half hour into their unpacking that yet another surprise happens.

The back of the bug opens. Unlike the two women from before, who had opened their doors with careful movements, the back door is slammed open with the force of a hurricane.

Another figure emerges and Finn finds himself leaning forward in his seat.

Polygamy, maybe?

No. The new arrival seems much younger than the other two, around his age even.

She is breathtaking. Her cheeks are full and rosy, and her tan skin radiates in the afternoon light. Her eyes are small and narrow, showing off her Asian heritage. The wind blows her lavender hair past her shoulders, and something sparkles on her nose. A nose ring, maybe? She is dressed in an oversized brown sweater, with combat boots and tight leggings accompanying the attire.

The girl is quirking a perfect eyebrow at her new surroundings before glancing down below at her pants. She jogs over to the two women and they talk for a while before the girl scowls and runs a hand through her hair.

Abruptly, the light-skinned woman points a finger in the direction of Finn's house.

He suddenly feels the need to piss.

The Asian girl is walking towards the driveway, and soon she is walking up the driveway, and now there's a ringing because holy shit that's Finn's doorbell, and then comes the knocking followed by a "hello, is anyone there?" because Finn is too fucking terrified to move.

"Listen, it'll just be a second," she promises. Finn forces himself to stand and he shakily unlocks the door before opening it just a crack.

She stands in front of him, her ruby lips pressed into a hard line. Before Finn could say anything, she asks, "Got any tampons?"

Finn feels the blood rush to his cheeks in just a few seconds, and he opens his mouth.

The girl is unabashed, rocking on the heels of her boots from side to side impatiently. "Please? It's a feminine emergency, and my moms ran out and the rest are somewhere in the truck."

"O-One second." Finn manages to stammer back before running down the hall to the bathroom. Though they're never used, there are some tampons that Finn's mother used before The Accident. They're stocked in the back of the cabinet because neither of the Carter boys wish to touch something as holy as that, and therefore never got the chance to throw them out.

Finn mans up enough courage to pluck one out before sticking out his tongue and heading back for the door.

Upon seeing the product, the girl lets out a relieved sigh and grabs it from his hands before muttering a "thank God." The tampon is stuffed into her pocket before she straightens to meet Finn's widened eyes. She offers a smile and extends her hand. "By the way, hey, I'm Winona."

How she can act like the situation that had just happened didn't happen, Finn didn't know. He kind of just stuck out his hand and let her shake it for him, all the while keeping his mouth open in slight shock. "Finn," he says a little delayed.

Winona quirks an eyebrow (does she do that a lot?) and releases his clammy hand before gesturing to her pocket. "Thanks again for this. Note to self: never call mother nature a bitch or she'll fuck you up."

"Note taken," Finn says quietly.

Winona laughs, and it's like a tinkle of chimes. "I'll see you around then, neighbor. And just one other thing: if you're going to spy on us, at least have the decency to do it discreetly. Your blinds are practically see-through."

By the time she leaves, Finn is so red that he can roast marshmallows on his face.

-------

My third-person writing virginity has been taken. It feels good.

Anyway, this story is such a melting pot. I was inspired by two writing challenge ideas: A Study in Femininity by gypseas and the Autumn Writing Challenge by northandsouth. A huge chunk of it was also inspired by various tumblr date ideas, which I will credit with every chapter. I'm also entering this story into the Pencil Prize Competition. Not hoping to win anything, but I wanted to try the experience! Because it's entered, updates will not be happening until September or late August. Enjoy the first chapter for now. :)

This is my first humor story, so I apologize if my sense of humor is not up to par. I'm really excited for this story to happen, and I hope you guys like it too. Don't forget: #taygetsthegay #weneeddiversebooks #thegreattakeover

Gif of Winona on the side. c:

Last but not least: Comment, vote, promote!

-Isabelle