DiMarco Diexteria-Ventura hasn't been feeling like himself lately. Something is going on with him but he can't put a finger on what has been throwing him off. To the new friends that he's been making, to the maid that's trying to take his mothers pl...
sorry for the wait! my laptop charger broke, and then I took a little vacay. but here's the next chap!
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DiMarco's POV
"I really don't know what's weird about that, Marco." Gage says to me on a call over FaceTime.
After the conversation with my principal, my day went by pretty weird. Not weird physically, as in a sense that people around me were unusual, other than the conversation between my principal and I, but weird in a sense that something is off. Occasionally, I felt like something bad is going to happen. I can't shake the feeling off. I cant determine why I felt that way. I just...did.
"It's just the whole vibe he gave off. Like, he asked me all these weird questions about the food, and how I liked it at school." I responded.
Currently it's 9:04 PM. My dad and his little maid went out for some kind of art showing that's going on in town. He sent me a text saying that they'll both be out late tonight, which I'm guessing that means no one's making dinner tonight. So I guess I have to make it myself.
"Well it sounds like he was just checking up on you. Nothing really weird about it." Gage says. "He is the principal, so I think it's kinda his job to check up on his students. Maybe he just drew a name out of a cup and you were just the one that was chosen or something."
"So he just has the time to have over 1000 names in a cup for this very reason?" I question.
"Well it's just a theory."
"That's a really weird theory."
"Well at least it's something." He says. I notice that his camera is shuffling quickly and the quality of his video is starting to get worse and buffer.
"What are you doing?"
"I have a date tonight at the pier." He says.
I can tell he's getting into his car as I hear his ignition starting and the camera position is only directly showing the right half of his face. He must have me in the cup holder.
"With who?" I question.
"You know that girl Jacqueline who's on the Spades team?"
"We have a Spades team?"
"Yeah. She's like the leader of it. She gave me a flyer in the hallway to show up to her game, and we kind of exchanged numbers and I think you can tell where this is going."
She sounds really nerdy. But if he's happy I'm happy.
"She sounds wonderful." I exaggerate. I didn't lie when I said that. She really does sound like a great girl. But in all honestly she doesn't really sound all that exciting. And again, if he is happy, then I am happy.
"Well I hope you have fun." I exclaim. "I'm making a chicken avocado salad right now, and I really think it needs me to tend to it right now."
"Have fun with you salad."
"Have fun with your date. Text me when you get to the pier."
"Will do."
And with that our conversation ended. I look at the clock and realize that it's already 9:40. I honestly didn't think we were talking for that long, but I guess it's amazing how time flies. I take my now finished salad and head towards the living room to watch TV. I don't know if I woke up too early or something but I am starting to feel a little sleepy. It's not really like myself to be sleepy at such an early time like this. I guess I just had a long day or something.
I look for the remote, but now it's not in its usual spot. It's place on the coffee table surrounded by dying roses my dad brought to be "decorative" has been misplaced. Again. Which happens pretty frequently in this household. I take in a long breath and sigh. The one thing I hate most in the world is constantly having to find the remote to the TV. I get up from the couch, and go back into the kitchen. Maybe I brought it in with me when I was making the salad? I look on the countertop and it's not there, and I start to get a little confused. My dad is pretty stern about me forgetting to not take the remote with me into my room whenever I finish watching TV, which I do a lot, so I don't think I would have taken it with me the last time I was in here.
I groan loudly, because honestly I just want to finish my salad an continue to watch more of Black Mirror. I look on the couch one more time just to see if I had overlooked it, but it's not there. In the corner of my eye, I see a shiny rectangular reflection of light bouncing off of something on the coffee table. I look, and there it is. The remote. In all of its television-y glory. It's shocks me though. I looked in that exact spot, and it wasn't there, but now it is? I know for sure I looked up and down on the coffee table and it wasn't there. It's weird, but I shake the thought and turn on the TV and while it loads, I start to look at my iPhone to see if I missed any notifications. I don't, but I saw something that wasn't mentally understandable.
The time.
10:59 PM.
Literally fifteen minutes ago it was 9 o'clock, and now it's 10? I swear by the time I finished making the salad and the time it took me to look for the remote only took about 15 minutes. I rub my temples and hear the security monitor beep. Someone's home.
"We're home." I hear my dads voice exclaim.
I look towards the front door and see that my dad, along with the help, have apparently been shopping. The amount of clothing store bags they have in their hands suggest that there is more where that came from. Maybe still some in the car somewhere.
"Hey, Marco!" He says.
"Yo." I reply as I watch the two struggle with their bags in delight.
I watch them and finally start to eat my salad. It's kind of soggy now that all this time was passed, but I don't really mind it. I don't mind what's playing on TV in the background as this seems to be more enjoyable.
"Why didn't you pick up? I tried calling you." He says.
"No, you didn't."
"Yes, he did." She says coming in my dads defense, which isn't necessary.
"No, he didn't." I repeat. "I just checked my phone and it's been on loud this entire time, so he must've dialed the wrong-
Dad (3) Missed Call & Voicemail
I could've sworn these notifications weren't here just a second ago.
"Do you mind helping us with the bags, DiMarco?" She asks, her accent proudly shining through. "There's a lot more in the car."
Proving me right.
"Well, did either one of you buy anything for me?" I ask. I am guessing they didn't, but maybe they actually thought of me for once this time.
"No, but if you help us out I will be extremely grate-
"Well then I guess this conversation is over." I interrupt.
I turn the TV off and carefully put the remote back in its usual place this time. I grab my salad and my phone and start to head upstairs toward my bedroom.
"Goodnight, dad." I shout from the stairs.
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