flashback

e l e v e n

                                                                                                                

Danyelle

            That afternoon when I went home, I wondered if I should tell Mom about my expedition. I decided against it—she would try to interfere, and do her law thing. I decided to pack my bags for the trip and just let her handle it after. When was she aware of where I was anyway? Maybe if we were lucky, I thought, we would find Fletcher and S&M before Thursday, and I wouldn’t get into any trouble. I could say I slept over at a friend’s house. Yeah right. My only friends now were Ceon, Fletcher, S&M, Mario, and the jocks. And Ceon, well…he was more than a friend to me. Not like he knew it, but he was.

            As I stumbled home after clicking the key to my house, I was surprised to be greeted. By Mom herself, clad in a Harvard College sweatshirt (from which she had graduated) and a pair of sweats. My heart skipped a beat when she stood beaming at the door. This threw off all my plans. “I know we haven’t been able to spend adequate time with each other, so I decided to get off of work early to spend some quality girl time.” I smiled on the outside, but in the inside I was screaming words I wasn’t supposed to know.

            As I stepped closer to the kitchen, smells of my favorite meal, chicken Parmesan, wafted from the door. I walked closer to the kitchen, but Mom blocked my way. “Nuh, uh uh!” She shook her finger at me. “No ‘taste testing’”. I sighed and slumped to my room, leaving Mom to her masterpiece. Chicken Parmesan—no offense Mom—only tasted especially good when Dad cooked. He cooked so spontaneously, that each time I ate something he cooked before; it seemed as if it was something new. Mom was such a perfectionist that she wanted everything to be just right—so right, that if she accidentally added just a bit too much tomato sauce or salt, she’d scrap the whole meal and just order Chinese or something. You can only imagine how many dollars were wasted that way.

            I flopped on my bed and grabbed my Blackberry out of my pocket. 3 missed calls. I checked the number, which read Private. I saw that I had a voicemail. I called the number, put in the PIN, and listened to the following message apparently from Ceon: “Hi Danyelle it’s Ceon … I know—cough—we’re meeting tomorrow, but I need to talk to you. I just feel—sniff—a bit lonely without Fletch and Matt and Sarai here and whatnot. If you can’t call back, I mean that’s fine, considering you have school and all, but it—cough—but it would be nice. Thanks bye.”

            I smiled at his voice and regretted I hadn’t checked my phone before. I hardly ever knew where it was anyway. Then I thought of his words: we’re meeting tomorrow. I didn’t even know if that would be possible now that Mom was home. But I also thought of the promise I made him. And a McKenzie never goes back on her promise. So I had to get out of dinner with Mom. I glanced at my watch: 3:47. It wasn’t too late, but I agreed to meet Ceon at the alley at 5:30. So about 2 hours. A tiny yellow bubble appeared on the corner of my screen: Incoming IM: Rio.

I clicked it and found myself in an IM chat with Mario. But before I did, I realized I had a few friend requests from the jocks. I smiled and opened the chat box.

Danny.mcken97: hey Rio. Wats up? J

Mari0_r0ll3r25: Nothing Dan… look.. :-/

I got the sense that something was up. My fingers did a little awkward dance over the keyboard thinking of what to write. The little yellow bubble appeared again.

Mari0_r0ll3r25: u there??

Danny.mcken97: yeah. I get the sense sumthing IS up.. cmon, rio.

Mari0_r0ll3r25: ok… I dont think I will b able to make the.. project …. **  we hav at 530.