Eleven Favours I Owe Him (Kismet-on hold)

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The sound of zooming cars wakes me up. I try to open my eyes but it is as if my lids are glued shut. Dried tears are surely more effective than glue.

My eyelids finally flutter open after rigorous untangling my eyelashes and I can't help but take a sharp breath as panic sets inside me as I glance around the unfamiliar place.

I frantically look around for a clue of where I am but then remember. The flashbacks hit me fast like lightning and I in an instant, I knew where I am; I'm in my new room now, in our new home. A tired sigh escapes my lips and I motion back towards the bed.

I continue lying there before feeling around for my phone. Unlocking it, I see that the time was seven-thirty in the morning. Over the night I seem to have received numerous messages and missed calls. Most are from Tricia asking me how our apartment is and receiving no reply from me, spammed anxious messages and showered me with at least 40 calls.

A small smile creeps on my lips at how easily agitated she is, and how she worries about me everytime. Sometimes I think that she's more like a mother to me than a best friend- not that I mind.

Picking her number from the list, I press the green button and press the phone against my ear, knowing that she'd be up early for school.  The phone rings several times before someone picks it up.

"Hello...?" I hear a groggy, husky and slightly irritated voice on the other end. "What the devil are you calling for this early morning?" It's Adam,Trisha's younger brother. I recognize his tone but the depth of his voice is new to me.  He has been pretty short the last  I saw him; but I guess that was a long time ago. He looks exactly like Trish, with his messy black hair and his blue eyes are as piercing as his sister's. Adam is the gorgeous male counterpart of Trish, not that I dig him or anything. Just stating the facts.

"Uhm, Hey Adam. It's Emily. Can I talk to Trish please?" I ask politely.

"Oh hey Em! Sorry about that." Seemingly embarrass by his rudeness. I hear movement and shuffling at the end of the line.

"Trish kicked me out of my chair to get the phone call. I fell miserably on the floor. By the way, my condolences. I'm sorry I couldn't come, business trips and all, not fun. But anyway, I'm really sorry," Adam replies, his deep voice now solemn.

"Thanks, Adam." I murmur, hoping that he wouldn't notice the pain in my voice. This is not a very great start at all; I can already feel the dark sadness closing its hand on me. But I shrug it off. I can't be down all the time.

"Here's my sister," Adam murmurs barely containing his chuckle.

There is a slapping sound then a crash, followed by a sound of struggle and someone being strangle. I stifle a giggle. Those two always fight, but at the end of the day they are always there for each other.

The truth is I'm very jealous of their relationship. Once, I even asked my mom if could have a brother or sister, but they told me that my mom can't bear any child anymore. I remember crying for several hours before Trish console me with a piece of chocolate fudge doughnut and a small bite on the candy apple she's eating, telling me that she can be my big sister. After that I stop crying all together and I become more attach to her, protecting me from all the bullying days when we were little.

I patiently wait for their weird token of affection to end, and when the commotion dies down, I hear heavy breathing at the end of the line.

"He..llo.. Em," she takes deep labourious breaths as she speak. I imagine her olive cheeks flushed from the spat.

"Hey Trish, I'm sorry about yesterday." I say as I start to twirl a strand of hair out of habit. "I was kind of busy arranging things around the house."