Sudden Departure

Chapter Three

I felt a tugging on my headphones.

"Shai, Shai!" I heard Stuart's strained whisper in my ear.

I groaned and rolled over onto my stomach. "What do you want Stu?"

He huffed and tugged gently on my tangled hair. "I can't sleep and I need to talk to you about something."

I lifted my head up and grinned, "Midnight Madness Ice Cream Sundaes, anyone?"

"Yes, come on let's go," he whispered returning my smile. "And, put on your pants!"

I heaved myself out of the bed and swiftly slipped on sweatpants. Tiptoeing, I followed Stuart down the stairs and into our kitchen. The walls were painted a cream color and were plastered with family themed propaganda.

I opened the freezer door and pulled out the tub of ice cream and a giant bowl from the cabinet.

"So," Stuart began while he bustled around the kitchen, adding to the pile of sundae supplies. "I'm having a hard time at school, kids are teasing me and I don't know what to do."

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at him. "Wait, kids are teasing you?"

"Ja," he returned, "they call me these mean names and they ask, 'how's the weather up there stretch?'"

"Aw, Stewy," I cooed as I wrapped my arms around his long, pale neck. "Here's what you do: you stand up really straight, look down at them and say, 'it's not my fault that you are vertically challenged, you don't have tone so jealous of me,' and then you try out for the basketball team and make it."

He smiled and hugged me back. "Thanks, Shailene. I'll try that."

I beamed up at him. "Good. Now, let's get this Midnight Madness Ice-Cream finished, ja?"

"Ja."

I smiled tightly as I scooped six scoops of vanilla ice cream from the tub and transferred them to the bowl. Stuart giggled as he sprinkled rainbow sprinkles and various chocolate chips onto the ice cream and as I switched from chocolate and caramel syrup, to whipped cream. We each grabbed a cherry and dropped them onto the sugary mass.

"Mmmm," we moaned simultaneously.

"Cheers," I said as I touched my spoon with his.

"Cheers," he replied.

We dug in with our spoons, eager smiles lit up our faces. When the overly-sweet concoction hit my tongue I felt like I was in a sugary, fattening heaven.

"We are going to be so wired after this!" Stuart mumbled, slipping another spoonful into his mouth as he slouched onto the barstool.

After a few minutes of sugary silence Stuart spoke again, "Shailene, there is this girl at school that I kind of like."

"Ooh!" I crowed as I punched him lightly in the arm. "Details, details!"

He smiled sheepishly and continued, "Well, her name is Lacy, and she is really pretty, and funny."

I smiled at him. In my mind I was almost relieved that he finally gave up his crush on C, even though she thought it was adorable.

"Should I ask her out?" He asked uncertainly.

"Ask her out, what do you mean?" I said as I twisted my face into a confused expression and shoved more of the sundae into my mouth.

"So, at school we do this 'dating' thing. You ask someone out and they are your girlfriend or boyfriend."

I chortled and almost choked on my ice cream. "Stew, that's dumb. You really can't have a sustainable relationship like that, especially because it's not real. Plus, you're thirteen, live a little."

His face fell a little, "You're right." Under his breath I heard him mutter, "as always."

A few minutes later, I stared at the empty bowl and ran my fingers around the edge to scrape up any loose chocolate sauce.

"I swear, Stuart, these Midnight Madness Sundaes get better every time we have them."

He laughed at me, "I'm going to bed, night."

I waved in his direction and leaned my head onto the cool kitchen counter. The granite was smooth and chill against my face. I stared at the clock, but I couldn't see straight. My eyes were drooping and my breath was steadying. I tried to wake up and push myself from the chair, but my legs were immovable and heavy. Finally, I just closed my eyes and rested.

A little while later, I heard the steady beat of 'Do I Wanna Know,' an Arctic Monkeys tune. I sat up and wiped drool from my mouth. In my weary state, I was puzzled as to where the noise was coming from, then I saw the corner of the kitchen light up. I realized that it was my ringtone and it was coming from my cellphone.

I slid off of the barstool and stumbled to my phone. I pulled the plug out of the cellphone socket and checked the message. It was my weekly horoscope. Back when Jamie was going through her superstitious serenity phase, as we liked to call, it she went through and downloaded a weekly horoscope application onto all of our cellphones.

I logged onto the app and relieved the "notifications" icon of its red glare. My horoscope read in scrawly, black font, "Your week will not be good."