She Acts Like a Dude

Chapter 7: Meet The Parents

Chapter 7: Meet The Parents

~August~

It's almost noon on a Saturday. I have survived the first week of class and I am currently pampering myself by watching television and eating the best-ever, frost-coated, chocolate chip cookies baked by  my Nana Elise.

I have a sweet tooth. That's why I really like Saturdays; I can stay on my bed, watch television and eat different kinds of sweet pastries. Of course, before I enjoy myself, I study first. I am done studying, so I finally have the luxury time to eat and relax.

As I am helping myself with a cookie and my whole attention is focused on the wide LCD television screen, a familiar voice suddenly booms through my room's intercom which makes me jump. I sigh and drag myself to where the intercom is.

Basically, I have my very own intercom in my room. Its purpose is for my Nana and the other housemaids to communicate with me and vice versa. Our house is gigantic, so it will be quite tiring for them to go to my room just for simple messages and for me to look for them around the whole house just to ask them small favors.

"August?" Nana's voice calls from the intercom.

"Yeah?" I ask through the receiver.

"August dear, can you please come down to the main living room? Your parents are here," Nana's voice comes in once again.

"What?" I yell after what Nana said registers in my head.

"Lower your voice, dear," Nana calmly chides.

"When did they arrive? Why did—" I start, somewhat excited and surprised.

"Hush, dear. Just come down here and you can ask them yourself. They're waiting for you." I can sense that Nana is smiling from the other end of the line.

"Okay. I'll be down there in a moment," I reply briefly.

My shock leaves me petrified. I just stand there, staring out of nowhere. Questions keep swirling in my mind. Why are my parents here? Is there anything important today? Is there any occasion, business event or something? What am I going to do?

When I return to my senses, I quickly turn off the television, gobble up the remaining cookies and put the plate on the sink of my kitchen.

Aside from an intercom, I have my very own kitchen in my room. Well, I have a kitchen, a bathroom, a living room, a dining area, a study room, a walk-in closet and a bedroom all rolled into one big suite. My room is already like a complete and furnished house; not to mention the very expensive furniture and the room itself, everything in different shades of orange and black. Everything, of course, all according to my taste. My parents provided these things to me as rewards to all of my achievements and as consolations to their constant absence in my life.