Bionic Chaos [Leo Dooley]

Chapter Seventeen

"Magdalena, Kian, it's dinner time!" Mom suddenly shouts from downstairs, making me nearly fall out of my bed. My headphones are sitting next to me, discarded. I had been watching some of my old skits after finishing up my homework. I was just about to go to sleep when she decided to shout at me and Kian about dinner. "Come down now, please! It's time to eat!"

I stifle a yawn as I get off my bed, stuffing my feet into some slippers my mom had gotten for me during Christmas last year. They aren't really that comfortable, but I don't want her to get mad at me for not wearing them. Besides, they do keep my feet warm, so that's a good thing about them, I guess. 

Stumbling down the stairs, I see that Mom and Dad have already set the table for dinner with our plates made and everything like that. I sit down at my place and see that they made my favorite meal, spaghetti and meatballs. 

"Oh, wow, this looks great!" I say happily to Mom and Dad, who are both smiling at me. It's very strange for me to see that, which makes me think that they have some ulterior motive for making my favorite meal. However, I don't want to ruin this great dinner, so I ignore those thoughts for right now. "Thank you, guys, so much!"

"You're welcome!" Mom says brightly. She's acting very different, but I like it. I like this nice and sweet Mom over the one who has raised me, the one who yells and screams and is so rude. "I know school and work can get a little stressful, so I wanted to do a little something for you."

"Wow . . . thank you."

I have to wait until Kian gets downstairs until I can start eating, which takes about five minutes. My stomach is growling very audibly by the time he sits down, so I dig into my spaghetti and meatballs right away, relishing in the heavenly taste. Meatballs are honestly the best food to ever be created. I could eat a thousand of them a day and still crave more. 

"So, how was work today?" Kian asks Mom and Dad as I slurp up more noodles from my plate. Glancing over at my brother, I see a slightly tense look on his face, like he's trying not to be mad at our parents and wanting to stay on their good side, even though we all know that's impossible. 

Mom and Dad give him the same answer, that they were busy making sure that their students were doing the right thing since they are both professors at the local private college. Many times during my life, Mom and Dad told me that I should go to their college that they work at so that I could get a family discount, but they know that I don't want to go to a traditional school like that. All of the classes that they offered there were for academics, not any arts classes, or majors for that matter. I would literally die there, but it wouldn't matter to them.

Kian continues to make small talk with our parents as I quickly finish my plate. Glancing over at the stove, I notice that there's more still in the pans, so I stand up from the wooden table, heading over to get a plate of seconds. Usually, the tile beneath my feet would be cold, but the slippers are keeping the cold at bay. After filling my plate back up, I turn toward the table, noticing that Kian had pushed his plate away from himself, a weird look on his face. I slide into the seat next to him, gently setting my plate down.

"Maggie, how was your day?" Dad asks me, glancing at me over the rims of his glasses. "You didn't work today, did you?"

"It was alright," I say before I can stuff my face. "And, no, I didn't work. That's tomorrow."

"That's what I thought."

I begin to eat my second helping as Mom and Dad talk to each other about a few things at work. Kian still has that strange look on his face. I really don't know why he's acting like this. Our parents actually want to hear how we're doing. This should be written down as a miracle in the Carver family. Things like this never really happened, so it had to be counted as a miracle, right? Yeah, it definitely does count as a miracle.

After I finish my food, I bring my plate over to the sink. It's my turn to wash all the dishes tonight while Mom dries and puts everything away. It sucks that Mom made spaghetti since she used a lot of pots and pans, but I can't complain because this is my favorite meal ever.

"Kian, we know you hit Maggie's car," Dad says suddenly while I begin washing the dishes. Kian is still sitting at the table with Dad, both of them watching as Mom and me clean up. I don't like it, but I don't say anything, especially with what Dad just said. "We saw the dent tonight."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kian says. Mom scoffs next to me, so I bury myself into doing the dishes. "Really, I don't know what you're talking about. I had no clue that Maggie's car got hit."

"You don't have to lie, Kian," Mom says gently. She stops drying my dishes for a second, facing the table. She leans against the counter like she could do this all day, blaming her son for something I have done. "You aren't going to get into trouble or anything. We just want to know what happened."

"I have no clue what happened," Kian answers. I can tell he's getting a little angry; I can hear it in his tight voice. I don't dare look at any of them. "Why don't you believe me?"

"We do believe you," Dad jumps in. He sounds so calm, cool, and collected. I don't like it. They did have an ulterior motive for tonight's family dinner, just like I had thought. "It's just that you haven't told us the truth a lot lately, and we want to be sure."

"Maggie, tell them!" Kian says angrily. I have to look at him now, even if it is just a glance. He looks at me with a pleading look on his face. My hands go still in the sink at the sight as guilt races through my body at the anger running through Mom and Dad's eyes. "It wasn't me. It was you, wasn't it?"

I start scrubbing on the pan that was waiting in the sink, not looking at any of them. The lie tumbles out of my mouth before I can even stop it. "No, I didn't do that," I say, scrubbing even harder on the pan than before. I'm surprised it hasn't broken yet. "I didn't dent my car. I don't know who did."

That is technically the truth. I did not dent my car. I was not the one who wrecked it. Adam did all that. But I also didn't tell them any of that, so that makes it a lie, too. I can't believe that I did that to Kian, either. He's already had it pretty hard here with Mom and Dad yelling at him about dropping out of college; he doesn't this. I can't back out of it now, though. I'm already in this lie.

I cringe when Dad snaps at Kian about ruining my car just like he ruined his life by dropping out of college. I can't believe myself right now. What am I doing? Why am I hurting the people I care about most? What is wrong with me? I have no idea. I hate it so much.

"And, Maggie, you're not so slick, either," Mom says as I hand the pan to her so she can dry it. I look at her with a frown on my face. What in the world is she talking about now? Is tonight the night where my parents decide to dump all their issues onto Kian and me? Apparently. "You've been getting home later than your curfew lately."

I grind my teeth together. Of course, she would notice that. My curfew ends at 7:30 at night, which is absolutely ridiculous. They don't care that I want to hang out with my friends (mainly Bree and Leo) after work, and that takes me later than 7:30. Unfortunately, Mom and Dad don't want me to have a life outside of school and work. 

"Because of this, you're grounded for a week," Dad finishes off for Mom. He places his plate into the soapy water, splashing me slightly. "You can only go to work and school and here. That's it."

"Are you serious?" I ask them. They stare at me, letting me know that they are absolutely serious about this. I sigh and drop the sponge back into the water on top of his plate. "I'm glad both of you care about me so much to make me stay away from the only people who actually make me happy."

They call after me as I hurry toward the stairs to get to my room. Kian meets me at the base of the stairs with a glare on his face. "Thanks a lot, Maggie," he says, making me stop there. I don't want to stop because I need to go to my room to let all these emotions out alone. I can't let them out here, with him. I won't. "Thanks for putting the blame on me for your car."

"Anytime."

I brush by him and run up the stairs, shutting my bedroom door behind me quickly. I thought tonight would turn out alright for once in my life, but I got my hopes up for no reason. My parents are not fun people to be around. I should have known that. Miracles didn't happen tonight. Unfortunately, I am turning out just like them. I hurt people to get what I want or what I don't want, and I act like I don't care. I do, and I hate myself for it.