Coincidences

Act XXXIII

We were now released from the hospital and safe within the comfort of our homes. Zoey stayed in her room all day, all night, with the excuse of always feeling dizzy. Her mother didn't know much as to why she unnecessarily locks the door to her room, but I guess she really needs her rest.

I feel lightheaded, too. I spend more time laying in bed than standing up. Stars kept on floating around all the time, and I found it hard to concentrate on any task in particular.

Rocky and Ty visited me often to check on me every once in a while. Rocky would jokingly start with a handshake, which sucked, because my right hand was badly burnt. Even if I declined, he'd still reach out for my hand and squeeze it tightly. Oh, the pain that flowed through my veins.

Today, they came as well. After that painful ordeal, they slouched on the sofa, as if the owned the house, and they asked for my condition. I answered that I was okay and offered them a drink.

At one point, Tyrone mentioned, "I haven't been seeing Zoey lately. We stopped by just now, but Mrs. Hudson said that she wasn't feeling well."

I agreed, "Although I get that she must be still recovering from the shock, I have a feeling that she may be avoiding us."

Rocky joined in. "For once, I get you, little pea."

"Who are you calling 'little pea'?"

"Why, you. You got a problem with that?"

"Of course I have a problem with that. I'm not that little to begin with. I'm taller than Ty here."

Tyrone calmly said, "No, you're not." He snuck up behind me and verified our heights on the spot. I ended up being the shorty.

"See, Marty? He's even wearing flip-flops."

"And, for some reason, you're wearing your sneakers at home," added Ty.

"Shut up, you two," I muttered guiltily.

Our attention soon turned to the noisy TV. An ad about milk blared, and the spokesperson guaranteed that whoever drinks it will grow. Rocky raised the volume, just in time to put emphasis on the word "grow".

"Enough of this, then," decided Ty, clapping his hands together. "We better leave. You haven't recovered fully yet." He pointed at my hand, which was holding my cup in a strange way.

"Wait," I cried, leaving the cup on the counter, porcelain clanking against the marble. "I've got an idea. My dad has some binoculars upstairs, which he lets me borrow once in a while. He's gone for work, so maybe―"

"We can use them to spy on Zoey," Ty finished. He glanced at Rocky, who was hyped up about the idea.

Although I have done this many times, this is my first time I'll peek with other people, and my guilt became ever more evident. Saying my apologies to her in my mind, I grabbed the dongle and streaked towards my room. We set camp in my bed and started to stared at her window for hours. Two hours, to be exact. Still, there was no movement inside the darkened room, and the two began to get bored.

"I thought this would have gone better," complained the lousy Rocky, laid back on my bed sheets, throwing my basketball to the ceiling. The ceiling showed circles of filth and soot. I guess I have to clean my room again.

Ty sighed, "It's getting late." He elbowed Rocky and stood up. "We better head home, the next bus is coming in four minutes, and it's past our curfew."

"Not for me," his brother cried loudly in pride. He stormed out the room; in the process, he threw away the bag of potato chips he was eating from inside my laundry basket. My vein popped from my forehead.

"Let him be. He's a real airhead, anyways."

They left, and I scurried to my room. As I took the binoculars and started to Dad's office, I caught a glimpse of her room lights turning on. My hands automatically set the lenses up my eyes. Sure enough, she was there. She walked to her desk, out of my field of view, and scribbled something on some kind of stationery.

I couldn't see anything. As I said, she was in a blind spot, so what I could see from the binoculars was limited. I was able to take some hints. She was somewhat sleepy, although it's obvious. Her head bobbed up and down, yet she still went on writing. What was she writing? Curiosity killed the cat, yeah, but, to me, it was worth dying for. I think.

Unluckily, I don't have the power, psychic or physical, to find out about it. I gave up and set the binoculars on my desk. I looked at the clock. Nine, exactly nine. I was starting to get sleepy as well. I dozed off.