Partners In Crime

14 Reflections

At first, Chelsea tried to deny it, claiming she was holding the book for someone. Derick didn't think much of this at the time and accepted her testimony. Soon, the two begrudgingly bonded.

For the rest of the night, they had a jam-packed event, abusing every item Chelsea owned in the mansion. Things like watching TV, playing video games and board games that are located at the lower ground level. Chelsea said that her dad owned the place and only she knew about it because she was made to keep a secret from her mother.

The boy said nothing.

A few hours later, the two had dinner and Derick, to no surprise, was impressed.

It was white rice encased with red warm sauce.

"This meal is to die for!" Derick said, finishing his half and digging into the apple crumble with coated custard.
It was the best dessert he ever had in his life.
"My dad hired a professional chef to cook our meals."
"Perhaps you're not spoiled after all," Dericks said, mouth full.

Chelsea, despite being complimented, couldn't help but be distracted by the boy's terrible table manners. She was already holding her tongue with him using the appropriate silverware. It was something the two had naturally had a row about until they had reached a compromise.

The compromise was as follows: Derick would put his cap down on the table as a sign of respect whilst Chelsea wouldn't criticize how he eats. After all, he is her guest.
So for the duration, Chelsea couldn't keep her eye on Derick's bold head while she was eating. She eventually addressed it.

"So, is the boldness a lifestyle thing or what? Because, I gotta say, it's not making you look so good."
"I was born with it," Derick said bluntly, pouring more custard into the crumble, eyes fixed on it. He figured it wouldn't hurt anyone if he opened himself up further.
"My uncle always told me I looked like a black Lex Luther. He's currently on a trip to Easter Island. He was also the one who gave me my old hat. So there's some sentimental value there."
"Easter Island?"
"That's what my folks told me."
"Oh, Derick. I'm so sorry," Chelsea began sympathetically, but it came across as if she was saying it out of pity than anything.
Derick won't expect anything less.

"-but it sounds like your uncle went to get some milk and never came back."
"That's a lie!" Derick said defensively.
"Oh yeah? When was the last time you saw him?"
"Six months." Saying it out loud/made Derick sound deluded, especially when he was promised that Axel would come back in a month. And the rest of the family is adamant that he's running late, and Derick, despite having his doubts, foolishly stuck with it.
To be fair, he had other stuff going on at the time.

Filling up the now-awkward silence, Chelsea tried to comfort him with his sudden realization.
"Urm, there, there?"
"So what's new with you?" Derick said through gritted teeth.
"Never you mind. It's between me and my friends."
"You mean your entourage?"
"They're not my entourage!" Chelsea snapped, her apparent booming voice turned a few heads of the butlers and Derick almost dropped his spoon into the pool of custard. Yet nothing happened.
She then recollected her composure, taking a deep breath.

"If you must know, I was going to reschedule my get-together with Kaylee and Ashleigh. They're siblings and they own a yacht."
"You know what they say:snobby girls stick together."
Chelsea ignored him.
"Yep. It's going to be the most epic, tremendous and fabulous event. It is a real shame it takes place when the sleepover is over. I could have invited you. Then again, they're not welcome to the middle class."
"Okay, you roped me in. I'm going. I have nothing going on on Sunday."
"What!?" Chelsea almost choked on a chicken leg.
"But I just-"
"I know. But I don't care." Derick boldly said, smug.
"Are you trying to ruin me? Do you know what they'll do to me if they found out I'm associated with the likes of you?"