Capítulo 11: Vowed To Become a Broomstick?
Pacing left and right restlessly nonstop, hands hooked behind his back, he glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time with much annoyance. His brown boots echoed on the well-furnished, high-ceilinged house, annoying the person seated on the lone couch crookedly with his eyelids closed and legs propped on the couch's arm.
"Cut it off already, Zav!" He shouted, annoyed by his friend's irritating gesture. "I'm unable to rest over here, you see..."
"Go get your ass into your room, Chris!"
"What's with all this edgy fuss, man?" Chris questioned, opening one eye and glancing at him lazily while blocking the light entering his eyes with his elbow covering his face.
"I can't believe he still refused to give it back!" exclaimed Zavior, gritting his teeth.
"Still on that topic?" loomed a third voice out of thin air suddenly.
"Right, that topic!" Zavior turned to face him.
"Why bother?" he said as he walked straight toward the study table and leaned his back on the table.
"Bother, you say?" Zavior snorted, "The girl saw the bike parked right in front of my doorstep. Does that seem anywhere near too silly? Besides," he scrutinized his eyes, crossed his hands over his chest, and continued, "what do you actually need that bike for?"
"Guys! Could you not shut this off already?" groaned Chris, sitting upright on the couch and glancing at the two adults bragging about the same topic since lunch, and it's already past evening, "Do you not see some people trying to sleep already?"
"Shut it up, Chris!" yelled Zavior.
Adrien took the gold and black rotating vintage globe ball and started spinning it using his index finger, barely listening to his angry friend.
"Adrien! Are you even listening to me?" questioned Zavior furiously. Adrien hummed in return before he stood straight and was ready to leave.
"Uff, for petty's sake! What kind of creatures am I surrounded with?" whined Zavior. "Why in god's name did you—"
"What's the girl's name again?" Adrien interrupted, catching both guys off-guard.
"What?!" both Zavior and Chris questioned in unison.
"Do you want me to chan—"
"Alicia! Alicia Anderson!" exclaimed Zavior before he'd have a chance to change his mind. Soon after that, Adrien passed through the door.
"Phew! Who would have thought convincing Dickhead was this hard?" Zavior sighed and slumped on the long couch. The fire crackled, burning the logs in the fireplace and warming the study room.
"Strange, isn't he?" He questioned mindfully and took the Rubix cube.
"When has he not?" Chris stretched his limbs before he stood up and gazed down at Zavior. He gazed at the hearth while his fingers busied themselves on the little colorful cube.
"I mean," he looked straight at Chris, "why would he need a normal Vespa when he could own the Bugatti La Voiture Noire, let alone the most expensive Rolls Royce Boat Tail, and still be the same richest being, don't you think?"
"Obviously," agreed Chris. "Anyways, I'm no longer dealing with this issue, buddy. Me gonna feed my monster before it squeezes me into a human-ade no more," he said, tapping his tummy, and then left the room eagerly toward the kitchen, his forever happy haven.
"Him and his kitchen language," muttered Zavior as he shook his head and focused back on the cube.
______
"Have you finally vowed yourself to become a broomstick?"
"What?" Alicia could not understand what her mom was after, this time.
"Don't 'what' me, young lady!"
"I'm not getting you, mom," she said as she opened her wardrobe and took out her favorite pair of pajamas with Bob, the mismatched eye minion printed on it, along with its little bear.
"For whom do you think you kept this lunch?" she questioned. "Didn't I warn you to finish the whole pack?"
"Ohh, that!!!"
"What 'ohh,' huh?"
"Actually... I had my lunch elsewhere, so I could not finish this up," she said, scratching her nape.
"You mean you went out on a date?"
"What?!!" Alicia was caught off-guard. From where did that thing come up?
"Finally, you're moving forward," overjoyed Ms. Anderson with a gleeful look.
"Uff... Mom! That isn't what I meant, mom. I—" confessing the truth would stir up more mess in her situation, thought Alicia, "so I went to deliver a package this morning to an elderly couple. They were so kind that they invited me over to have breakfast with them, so...
"WHAT?!" exclaimed her mother, and she pulled her bare and long leaf-like ear angrily.
Alicia's hands went up soon as she felt her mother's hand on her ears, and she screamed, "Ouch! Ouch! Maa!"
"How many times have I told you not to trust someone so blind? What if they might have had some other interior moves? What if they did that, just so they could have you as their next meal?"
"Ok, ok, désolé!" Désolé! I'm sorry," she apologized a number of times, swiping from English to French and French to English only to plead with her mother to let go of her ear.
"Not even a four-year-old kid would do such a stupid thing, you know," she got scolded quite an earful of times for being such a fool.
If this were the case, what might her mother do if she were to confess the truth? She had breakfast with two youngsters. Not to say they were vampires at that!
The very thought shivered her whole body. Her mother wouldn't dare let her walk on the street alone. She'd put everything back and monitor her 24/7 just to see that she was safe and sound no matter what.
"Snap out and go take a bath. Unless you wish to starve the night," snorted her mother before she left the room.
"Phew!" sighed Alicia deeply soon after her mother left her room. Shaking off the thoughts, she rushed to the bathroom and stripped off her clothes to soak her sore and tired body in the water-filled tub.
Her mind was clouded with too many things, scenarios like what might have happened if she were to be at the cafe when it all stirred.
Would she be dead?
If so, what kind of chaos might this house be in?
She saw her very images of lying dead, similar to Edgar, which made her jump out of the bathtub and wrap up the towel.
"No more thinking of it, Alice. No more thoughts about it. Just find a way to cover it up before mom," she slapped her senses and glanced at her reflection in the mirror.
"I must call Ria before I sleep. I wonder if she's still at the hospital," she murmured as she got herself dressed. She wished she could have gone to the hospital too. But then, what was she about to tell her mother? Her mother would be worried sick, and she'd have to confess all the incidents that conspired at the café. And then it would be the end of her life as a café girl.
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