Coincidences

Act XII

Four weeks later, Dr. Reed took them off, as predicted. Our limbs weren't immobilized anymore, but they felt like soggy noodles. To describe the feeling, it was so numb that you wouldn't feel a mosquito biting you.

It's winter, and exams are just around the corner. With me frolicking around like a toddler, and Zoey unintentionally jotting down squiggles, I suppose this will be one heck of a time.

We set our pile of books on top of the kitchen island. We sat down on the stools and stared at the horrendous to-do list. Zoey gulped in despair.

"Do you really think we can do this?" asked Zoey. "We did miss a lot of these topics."

I shrugged. "I dunno."

Algebra, mythology, all of those sorts of stuff. We studied, reviewed, memorized, and reviewed again. Mrs. Hudson gave us snacks: chips, candy bars, juice. We barely touched them, except for a bag of Doritos we shared. We worked our butts off this one. We took a break.

I noticed I left my phone at home. I started to run and get it, till she said she'll come. She probably was tired, too. We walked into my house, and Zoey, curious, asked me, "I didn't get to see much around the house. Mind if I can take a tour?

She looked around, "Your plasma TV is the same exact model as ours! Oh, and you have the same exact Wii games, too!"

I thought to myself, "No kidding."

I headed upstairs. I offered, "Wanna come up?" She quickly followed.

The living room, the dining room, the kitchen, the garage, and the powder room were on the first floor. The bedrooms and the other two bathrooms were on the second. The master bedroom is Dad's, I have my own room, the third is the office, and the last is a guest room, barely untouched. The bathroom next to Dad's office is the one I generally use, while the other is an in-suite.

I led her around the place. I showed her Dad's room and study. I was about to show her the guest room, until I realized she had barged into my room.

I stormed inside furiously. "What are you doing in my room?!"

She instantly held up my phone. "Found it," she said. "It was ringing."

I took a peek at the notifications. There were three: a missed call, a new message, and a snoozed alarm. All three of them. It seems Dad tried to call me and, unsuccessful, sent me a message, saying, "Be home late. Around 7." The alarm was set on seven o'clock. The front door echoed throughout the house.

"Martin, are you there?" yelled Dad. I noticed that, yet again, Zoey has vanished. I began to panic.

"Yeah, I'll be right down," I replied. I patrolled the vicinity, in search of a stray cat. The bathroom door was closed, and I don't recall ever doing so. Maybe she was there. I sped up the pace and reached for the handle.

Dad appeared out of nowhere. He said, "Me first. I've been holding it since the moment I was on the road." He pushed me aside and opened the door.

Flush. Zoey was on her way out of the bathroom, when my dad entered. They were both surprised.

"What a surprise, seeing you in these places," he said. He put that situation in disregard and excused himself. "I really gotta do my business here. Thank you."

She exited to the hall, whispering to me, "I like your house, except for the awkward situations I keep on encountering." I nodded.

We decided to go back to her house, since it wasn't as chaotic as mine.