Revenge Is Sweet (Under Construction)

Chapter 2

I woke up the next day and moped around in my bed. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I just wanted to sit in bed and cry. I heard the phone ring.

“Could you get the phone, dear?” My mom yelled from downstairs. I rolled out of bed and trudged downstairs into the kitchen. My mother was there, cooking eggs.

“Hello dear, could you wake up your father?” she asked cheerily. “He has to get ready for work.”

“Mom, he’s-” I cut myself off. I should let her just hold on to her fantasies for now, shouldn’t I?

“Sure thing, mom,” I muttered. “Lemme just get the phone first.” I picked up the phone. “Hello?” I sighed.

“Why so bummed out?” said a voice. “You should be having fun or going to the beach and getting a tan!”

“Well, I’m not exactly in the best mood right now, Vee,” I said.

“Do you want me to come over?” she said sympathetically.

“Are you sure you can?” I asked. “It’s not as close as it was before.”

“I’ll take the private jet; be there in a few hours.”

She hung up the phone. I put it back on the receiver and made myself some cereal. I sat in the living room and turned on some cartoons to try and make myself feel better.

Vee has been my best friend since third grade. She moved to Orlando in fifth grade to be closer to her grandparents, but we’ve still been friends because she can fly to and from D.C. with her parent’s private jets. Did I mention that her mom is an author? She’s written over 100 children’s books, 70 of them being bestsellers. Her father works in government. As an FBI agent. So they have a lot of money on their hands that they really don’t know what to do with.

“You should really wake up your father, honey,” said mom.

“Oh, he had to leave for work early today,” I lied while scooping some cereal into my mouth. I don’t have time to feel sorry for myself, I thought. I have to get over this soon. While watching the Looney Toons, I slowly drifted asleep.

I awoke to poking. I opened my eyes and saw Vee about three inches from my face, poking it.

“Get up silly, we have stuff to do.” she said in her barely-there British accent. She had one of those accents that people would swoon over.

I pushed her face away and got up. “Who let you in?” I asked.

“Your mom did, and then she left to go shopping. She said that you should wake up your dad.”

Pang. A feeling of anguish struck me in my gut. I fell back onto the couch. Vee immediately rushed to my side.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m fine; I just feel a little dizzy.” I mutter. “My dad kind of passed yesterday..” I ever so subtly add in.

“Oh, come here.” She embraced me in a tight hug. “How did he die?”

“Oh, nothing just a gunshot to the head.”

“That’s horrible!”

“No, really?” I said in a sarcastic tone.

She pulled away from the hug. ‘So, what do you want to do now?” she asked. “Here.” She gave me a tissue. I hadn’t even realized that I was crying. I dabbed my eyes.

“I want to find out who killed my dad.”