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"Mom. I'm not speaking French or Spanish. How are you guys not getting this? It's simple, but I know this isn't really what happens to teenagers. But it happened to seven." I annoyingly whined, sitting on the long gray couch while my mother sat on a neat coffee chair in front of me. Meanwhile, my strict father stood beside his wife, with his hands on his hips, gazing at me in puzzlement.
Occasionally, I glimpsed over my shoulder at the quiet blonde boy behind me, catching him leaning against the clean island counter beside the stove. I watched him nervously gaze at us, listening to all the utterances being declared, the traumatic events that happened on the island and throughout the Bahamas, and all of my deep beggings.
It was time to ask my parents if I could go out and save the cross, but I knew they weren't going to let me go off the hook too easily. They needed a story like they said yesterday. They needed it as fast as possible to give it to the police to avoid suspicion. That's why I requested JJ for support. Nonetheless, his slowly pacing around the neat kitchen was not giving me any assistance as he thought it would.
So it was all me from here on out.
"Honey, I am listening to you. I'm just having a hard time. So I need you to walk me through it one more time." My mother reassured, sitting there with long denim jeans, and a floral blouse, delivering me delicate and promising light eyes, until my father added on with a snicker, "Yeah."
"The cross of...Santo Domingo...that we found." I made sure my phrases made significance in their heads, while I kept my pleading and patient eyes on my mother. "Right." My mother hummed, nodding her head afterward.
"We thought it was gone forever. We just find out it's... it's gonna be in Wilmington tonight-" I began explaining to her, before my father chimed in, reworking my words, "We just found...found. Wrong word."
I lugged my bothered and foolish eyes up at my father who gave me a teasing stare, uninterestedly and unhurriedly blinking, and an idiotic whiff slipped out of my mouth.
"Found. We found out it's gonna be in Wilmington. You knew what I meant anyway, Dad. I really don't have time for an English lesson." I advised him, hurling my soft hands in the air, watching him quickly nod his head.
"Hopefully, now you will start making time for it." He answered, dropping his hands from his thick hips, and folding them under his chest, against his dark-colored button-up.
