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Lizzy | Mario
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AFTER Lizzy arrived home, she holed up in her bedroom like a mole, fishing her homework out from her backpack and from the pile of miscellaneous school supplies and books on the floor. She always tried to complete her homework on Saturday so that the next day could be filled to the brim with laziness and relaxation; it also gave her an opportunity to mentally prepare herself for another long week of school. Lizzy was about to scrawl on some worksheet for Economics when her phone, once sitting quietly beside her, became a pestering bumblebee. She checked to see who it was, and her stomach somersaulted like a gymnast when the name Mario materialized on the screen.
Sup, Peach. How's it hangin?
Lizzy sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This boy and his wacky antics would be the death of her.
Sup is so 2011. You better catch up with the times.
What if I told you I was going to singlehandedly bring sup back?
Good luck with that, Mario.
Speaking of Mario, did you ever play Mario Kart as a kid? Mario Kart was my childhood video game.
Duh. Do you think I live under a rock?
You never know. You could for all I know.
Do I sound like I live under a rock? At least I have some social skills, which is more than I can say for some other people I know.
Did you ever finish in first on Rainbow Road?
Uh yah, that was the easiest one.
Um, no, I'm pretty sure I fell to the earth about fifteen million times.
Dear god, I hope that doesn't reflect your real life driving skills.
Welllllllllllll...
This is awkward.
I hope we don't live near each other. I'd rather not get run over today. Or any day, for that matter.
I'm 99% sure I'd still find a way.
Let's hope not. Let's also hope that no one in their right mind will give you a license.
SUCKS TO SUCK, I already have it :)
Damn it. RIP me.
As much as I enjoy texting you, I must return to my homework. I'll let you know when I'm done, kay?
Sounds like a plan, Stan.
Currently rolling my eyes at you.
Currently rolling my eyes at YOU because you're like the one student who's actually doing homework right now on a Saturday. Smh.
Well, I'm special then.
Okay, keep telling yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night.
Lizzy pushed her phone to the far end of the desk so that she wouldn't be tempted to continue texting him—whoever he was. She understood the dangers of talking with strangers via text message or the Internet but Lizzy resolved to keep her true name and age furtive until the time was right. She wasn't sure exactly when that time would be, but her gut told her that when it arrived, she would just know. Slowly but surely, a sense of friendship and trust was forming like a bridge between them. It would take a while before the bridge was complete but at least the construction for it was commencing.
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"Lizzy, it's time for dinner!" her mother shouted from the kitchen, her voice echoing through the vents until they reached Lizzy's room. Lizzy speedily scribbled her name on the AP Biology outline she had just printed before racing down the stairs to the dining room. The last of her homework was now finished and Lizzy felt at ease and in control of her life. She was the captain of her ship and the seas around her rolled smoothly, leaving her undisturbed. She could spot no storm in the horizon; it was clear and cloudless, the dazzling sun's rays reflecting sparkles on the calm water.
"Hi, Dad!" Lizzy greeted, sliding on the hardwood floor in her fuzzy slipper socks toward her father. Once she closed the distance, she wrapped her arms around him in a tender embrace. He smiled adoringly at his daughter although Lizzy faintly noticed that it was a little forced. "How was work?"
"Not too bad. My day is always better when I'm home."
"Because you get to see me, your favorite child, right, Dad?" Lizzy winked at her father.
Logan overheard their conversation because he was already sitting at the oak table, an empty plate deposited in front of him. "Hey," he muttered grumpily, a scowl etched in his young features, his eyes narrowing at his sister. They constantly argued over who held the title of "The Favorite Child." Lizzy believed that she had a leg up from her brother because of his rebellious age; however, Lizzy knew that she could be difficult especially when it concerned sleep, which was way more important in Lizzy's opinion.
Logan and Lizzy's father chortled, the lines around his eyes crinkling like aluminum foil. His hand reached over to mess up Logan's curly, chocolate locks; the young boy flinched away, murmuring execrations under his breath.
"Language," their mother warned from the kitchen, her eyebrows raised expectantly as though she was daring Logan to defy her. Logan seemed to sink farther into his chair like the Titanic and Lizzy's mother grinned triumphantly.
Meanwhile, Lizzy's father gesticulated to the chair opposite of Logan. "Sit down, Liz," he told his daughter. "Your mother made a delicious meal for us today and it would be foolish of us not to enjoy it." Lizzy nodded to her father and slid into the seat, her insides warm and fuzzy like the loving atmosphere around her.
After they were all settled around the table, Lizzy's mother brought in a steaming pan of chicken and rice. Lizzy's mouth watered at the sight; she couldn't wait to devour the meal. Logan, however, beat her to it and grabbed the spoon first. Lizzy's eyes slung daggers in his direction but Logan merely shrugged with a smug smile. Lizzy sulked, resting her head in the palm of her hand as she waited impatiently for her brother to scoop the chicken and rice. It seemed as though he was moving in slow motion but finally, after what seemed like forever, Lizzy was able to retrieve some for herself.
"Eat all of it, why don't you?" Lizzy's mother commented as she watched her children serve themselves piles and piles of food.
"Hey, I'm growing," Logan defended himself. "I can't say that much about her." He pointed to Lizzy with his fork.
Lizzy narrowed her eyes into slits. "Oh shut up. Just because you're an inch taller than me doesn't mean that I'm not growing."
"You may not be growing this way"—He displayed his point with a hand rising from his head—"but you are growing this way." He presented this part of his sentence with his hand extending from his stomach. Lizzy sighed exasperatedly, not generating enough energy to argue with him.
Their mother clearly was tired of their disagreement already because she abruptly changed the subject. "How was work, Lizzy?"
Lizzy stared at her food, her fork swirling the rice around similar to the way the wind eddies a meadow of grass. "It was fine. Uneventful. Reece was on my shift with me today."
"Ah, Reece is a nice boy," Lizzy's father piped up from his end of the table. Lizzy resisted the urge to laugh; her father was constantly trying to play matchmaker with her and all of her guy friends.
"I met up with Teagan for lunch today," Lizzy informed her family.
Logan stopped shoveling spoonfuls of chicken and rice into his mouth for a moment to ask, "Where did you eat?"
"Philip's Pizza Palace."
Logan's jaw dropped; Lizzy was well-aware that the Pizza Palace was one of his favorite restaurants. She grinned at him haughtily. "And you didn't bother to invite me?" Logan asked incredulously.
"Yes because what we wanted was for my annoying little brother to join us for lunch," she told him sarcastically.
"Okay, okay, okay, my lovely children," Lizzy's mother interjected before they could fuel their quarrel to a roaring fire. Just as Logan was about to swoop in for seconds, someone's phone began to ring with the traditional whimsical melody that was typical of most cell phones.
Lizzy's mother sighed and set down her fork. Lizzy swore she could observe threads of steam vaporizing from her ears; her mother was losing patience fast. "Whose phone is that?" she inquired with an eerily calm tone.
Lizzy and Logan's mouths were sewn shut like dolls'. Their mother continued, eyeing her children suspiciously, "You all know how I feel about phones being used or heard at the dinner table."
"My phone's upstairs in my room," Lizzy defended, gently blowing a stray dark curl that had fallen into her eyes. The once affectionate environment intensified into a dangerous pit of snakes, her mother about to snap at any moment.
"Same," Logan affirmed.
Lizzy's mother stared in disbelief at her husband. "Really, Walter?"
His bushy eyebrows levitated on his forehead, almost disappearing into his black hair. A deep crimson blush splattered his cheeks; it was obvious to Lizzy and Logan that he hadn't been listening to his wife. "Yes, dear?" Lizzy's mother sighed again and stared at her husband expectantly as if waiting for him to admit that he had zoned out for a few minutes.
The ringing continued, unrelenting. It showed no signs of stopping, the music haunting their ears like a ghost. Everyone in the room was filled with a sense of dread and anticipation. A sliver of relief shivered through Lizzy's body; she couldn't help but be grateful that her father was the culprit this time and not her or Logan. "Aren't you going to see who's calling you?" Lizzy's mother queried evenly. Lizzy sat on the edge of her seat, waiting to see when her mother would explode, an erupting volcano.
Lizzy's father awkwardly rose from the dinner table. He was obviously having an internal war with himself: should he continue to sit, pretending he didn't own the obnoxiously ringing phone, or should he leave to answer it, leaving himself to blame for the dinner interruption and his wife vexed? He finally decided on the latter; he figured it was better to be an example to his children of accepting responsibility, rather than avoiding it like a coward.
"I'll just—okay." He couldn't finish his sentence because of the intensity of his wife's glare. He bowed his head low and rushed to retrieve his phone.
The rest of those seated at the table commenced eating in silence, the tension so palpable in the air that Lizzy swore she could slice it with a knife. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed by and still their father didn't return; however, the phone's ringing had ceased. Lizzy's ears perked when she heard her father's voice muffled by the walls. It sounded as though he was speaking with a piece of cloth in his mouth. Lizzy glanced quizzically at her mother, but she didn't seem to know what was taking him so long either.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lizzy's father emerged like a worm from underground during a rainstorm. He was a little breathless, sweat glistening on his forehead. His front teeth were creating a dent on his bottom lip; in fact, he was biting so hard that some blood surfaced. Everyone at the table awaited his explanation anxiously but he didn't move to provide any answers. Instead, he quietly sat at the table and stared at his food as though he had never seen it before in his life.
"Well? Who was it?" Lizzy's mother demanded harshly.
Lizzy's father glanced up from his staring contest with his plate; his mind seemed to be far away in outer space, his look unfocused. "It was my longtime coworker, Patrick." He paused and attempted to gather his thoughts, his eyebrows knit in concentration. "Evelyn, can I talk to you for a moment?"
Lizzy's mother was thrown off guard at the mention of her husband's friend and coworker, Patrick. That certainly wasn't what she was expecting—although she didn't know exactly what she was expecting. As she slid back, her chair made a squeaky cacophony that simply added to the apprehension in the air. Lizzy and Logan's parents traversed into the living room together; meanwhile, the two siblings exchanged troubled looks.
"What was that about?" Lizzy whispered to her brother, concern flashing across her features.
Logan shrugged, shaking the uneasiness from his shoulders. "I have no idea." With that, he returned to devouring his scrumptious dinner. Lizzy, however, couldn't shake the sick feeling that lingered in her stomach.
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A/N:
Long time, no update! I'm extremely sorry about that! I've been very busy with school and sports and play practices that writing and spending time on Wattpad has taken a backseat. I've missed you guys (and writing) a ton so I'm going to try to carve a little bit of time each day to spend with you!
- Payton