Mission Stereotype

Chapter Five - a curious book and cold baths

A/N: I haven't updated in a long time because I was on holiday, and I sprained my ankle whilst shuffling to party rock anthem with my sister :/

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Chapter 5

"Dinner's ready!" a voice called, in a sing-song tone.

"Coming Mom!" I yelled back, and I gently put down my violin promising that I would practice more later.

I rushed down the stairs, not looking where I was going and BAM! I tripped over something, and fell the rest of the way. Luckily, I was nearly at the bottom and there was a thick rug at the foot of the staircase.

Something landed with a thud next to me as I lifted myself off the ground.

I crept over to see what it was. A large white book was sitting with it's front facing the floor. I picked it up and turned it over.

'STEREOTYPE CASE FILES' was stamped in red print. I curiously brought my fingers to the edge to open it...

"Poppy! I need you to clear the table, your books are all over the place. Where are you?" I jumped, and scrambled to get up. I could hear my Mom shuffling towards me from behind the door.

I shoved the book underneath the umbrella stand, grabbed the door handle and yanked it open.

"I'm...fine, I was just sorting out my sheet music before I forgot," I babbled. I cringed; the way I said that sounded much too much like the lie it was.

My Mom was standing there, frozen, a look of surprise on her face. Her hand was held out in front of her like it was going for the door handle. The one which was the opposite side of the door handle I had grabbed mere seconds before.

"Uhh...okay then. Well, it's chicken pasta today. And it's your turn to clear the table and handle the dishwasher."

I accepted it without a protest, which probably made my Mom even more suspicious.

What was that book for? Why was it here? Why was it on the stairs? Who owned it?

A jumble of questions flew through my mind. I was so distracted that I poured both Luke and I some milk, when he was lactose intolerant.

"Uhh...Poppy...you do know I can't have milk, right?" he questioned me curiously.

I just stared at him.

"Huh?"

Quick as lightning, he snapped his fingers in front of my face. I flinched, and stepped back.

"Aaaand, you're back in the room!" he grinned.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Okay, maybe not." he mumbled nervously. He shrank back into his seat.

I didn't bother to answer him.

We ate our pasta in silence. I was far too spaced out to make any conversation.

Once we were finished, I cleared up the plates and shoved them into the dishwasher. I waited until they were finished, then wiped them down and put them away.

I meandered up the stairs.

Then I remembered about the book, (how could I have forgotten?) and ran down again. I was about to lift the umbrella stand up, when Luke popped his head around the doorframe of the living room.

"Poop?" he said, "What're you doing?" I cursed myself for not checking if the coast was clear.

"I'm going to clean the umbrella stand." I lied smoothly. "It's really dusty and it makes me sneeze every time I walk past."