Super•Villainous

IV

Ezra <3 : Hey babe - 9:54 am

Ding.

Ezra <3 : Please respond  - 11:04 am

Ding. Ding.

Ezra <3 : I know you're alive babe - 11:06 am

Ezra <3 : Don't be mad I ran away. I swear I was gonna come back - 11:06 am

I groaned at the uncomfortably bright screen of my phone for a myriad of reasons, not least of all the forty-seven missed calls, sixteen of which were from Ezra <3 alone.

I promptly changed my soon to officially be ex-boyfriend's name in my contact list, only just resisting the urge to block his number entirely, right as my phone dinged one last time before I switched it to silent.

Insufferable twat: Baaaaaaaabbeee - 11:09 am

Slamming my phone face down on my bed, I smothered my own face with my pillow, screaming into it.

There was a knock at my door. "Why are we screaming?" my step-father asked, raising his voice to be heard through the wood.

"She's screaming because she's up before noon," my dad's gravelly voice sniped, sounding exhausted as he pushed his way into my room.

"Lily," he ripped the pillow away from my hands, holding it out of reach, "you knew it was coming. It's time we had a talk."

That, at least, explained why he was still awake.

I sat up on my elbows, taking in the deep shadows marring his under-eyes.  "I thought you said last night that I wasn't in trouble," I reminded him, eyebrows pinched accusingly.

"Your hair is now fire truck red." Ouch. The famous, I'm not upset, just disappointed tone. "I might be half blind, but I'm not that blind. You snuck out last night."

"Nay-nay, father." I wagged a finger side to side, procuring a formal tone. "I did no such thing. I had a box of dye stuffed in the bathroom cabinet. No late-night escapades involved."

"That's not true!" my little sister exclaimed, peering around Adrian's legs. "I heard you leave!"

My eyes narrowed. "And what were you doing awake at that hour, little narc?"

While she stuck her tongue out tauntingly, Dad sighed, "Now you're lying to me? Really?"

Again, he sounded drained, which made me feel far more guilty than if he had yelled, something he was seldom to do.

I felt my phone vibrate against my thigh, and it gave me an idea. "Okay, fine. I did, in fact, head to the corner store last night, but! But, as we can all see, I survived! Hallelujah! No harm, no foul. If you insist on punishing me, though, I suppose I have no choice but to give you my phone. I'm devastated, but actions have consequences, so here. Take it."

No loss for me, really. I didn't want to return all those calls of concerned acquaintances who recognized my performance on the news anyway. I also found that if I couldn't get out of a punishment altogether it was best to get ahead of the curve, make suggestions to mitigate my losses in my flavor.

Unfortunately, my parents knew better than to be manipulated.

"You can't call us if you don't have your phone," Dad said. What he didn't need to voice, but hung in the air nonetheless, was that I would inevitably need it in event of an emergency, being the walking catastrophe that I was. "No... I'll need to think on this."