Coincidences

Act IIII

The TV displayed a flash of light after I switch it on. I channel surf away, and I find myself staring at a detergent commercial claiming to wash any stain off any piece of clothing. The jacket laid in my lap, reeking of sugar.

I lose interest and turn off the TV. I throw the jacket on top of the washing machine and head over to the kitchen, looking for a snack.

There was barely anything to eat. We haven't gone to the supermarket yet. We ate delivered pizza; the guy even had the guts to complain that our house was far away.

I went to my room. I had a spare chocolate bar I bought at the gas station. Luckily, I didn't eat it immediately then, due to that incident.

I fell flat on my bed; exhaustion was taking over. I opened the wrapper, and I close my eyes for a bit.

What the heck of a day. I wanted to see if this Zoey girl was worth making friends with. She's just a weirdo with nothing in mind.

I take a bite out of the Twix.

I mean, she's cute, but an airhead. Like I even care. Who would want an absent-minded anyone to follow you around?

I sat up, and peeked next door. Yep. She was there. She's upright on her bed and... she's crying. I look more closely. She stays immobile for a moment. Then, she lays down, out of my sight. She appears to be alone in her room.

Now, I wonder. Is it right for me to judge her like that? I was wrong. There's something going on with her.

My body couldn't keep up. I tumble to bed. I shut my eyes for the second time. I drift to sleep.

I'll ask Linda later.

___________________

A set of teacups was set over the glass coffee table. Water boiled in the kitchen, and the tea bags were already placed on the cups.

Mrs. Hudson, although she looks young, gave away her age with her sense of fashion and her limited amount of energy. She's more reserved at home, I observed, and she just likes to strike conversations to attract attention from others.

The water, now extracted from the stove, was poured to the porcelain containers. The green tea expelled a calming scent. She took a sip from hers.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" she asked as she settled in an armchair.

First, I talked about myself for her to get to know me better. It would be ill-mannered if I got straight to the point. I allowed her to talk, too; she mentioned something about being a valedictorian, I think, her current career, and how she saw life.

After finishing the topic about her hobby to do yoga, I relayed the real reason of my stay.

"How's Zoey, actually? Is everything okay with her?" I started.

Her smile weakened after hearing this. She said, "I wouldn't say she's okay, but it's nothing too serious."

"I saw her crying through the window," I unexpectedly said. My mouth suddenly opened on its own.

With a bit of hesitation, she finally let out a sigh. "You're right," she admitted. "It is a bit serious." She paused for a moment. "I... I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone, at least, not now."

She came closer to my ear. "I will tell eventually, but I certainly cannot tell you anything now." Her positivity earlier vanished.

After a few more topics, I excused myself to leave. She walked out and invited me to come some other time.

I let my body relax, especially after being so nervous in such a long time. To sit down and talk to someone face to face nowadays is harder than publishing a video online. I rested on the sofa and picked up the remote.

The TV displayed a flash of light after I switch it on. The last time I left it, it was at Disney Channel, so I was greeting by a couple of dancing mice and a patch of pumpkins.

What a coincidence it is for it to show Cinderella. I was thinking about that. I thought, maybe Linda was not who I think she was. She acted nicely when around crowds, but maybe she cruelly disciplined Zoey to labor and rejection. It's a possibility.

I watched the same lame movie for the thousandth time, so I turn the TV off and head to my room. I peeked out the window to check on her. I couldn't tell what she was doing. She was in a dark corner of the room.

I sneak into the bedroom Dad made into an office, and I secretly took his binoculars. I checked if they worked and ran back to the window.

I positioned myself in a comfortable spot and did a look-see.

She was dressing herself, recently out from a shower.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Dad suddenly bursted out. He grabbed the binoculars. "Those are mine."

Guilt crawled up my spine. I repeated in my mind, wrong timing, wrong timing.

He brushed the lenses using my laundry. He breathed into it a couple of times, until it was perfectly clean. He faced me with confusion.

"What are you really doing anyways?" he said angrily. He eyed the window.

Oh no.

Wrong timing, wrong timing.

He lifted the binoculars to his face and viewed the vicinity. He stopped when he stared at her room window. He took a closer gander. He posed there immobile, like a statue.

"Isn't that Zoey's room?" he questioned.

I nodded.

"It looks nice. The design, the setup,... I have to say it looks better than yours."

He gives me the binoculars. "I'll let you borrow it, just this once. Keep it clean. And remember, it's bad to spy on a girl for too long," he chuckled.

I immediately brought them to my eyes. She was gone, probably already dressed. Thank goodness.

From afar, Dad shouted, "Oh, don't forget to take a shower. Or a bath."

I almost dropped and broke his binoculars.