The Ways We Become Undone [ON HOLD]

Chapter Thirteen

[a/n]: excuse the huge spacing between paragraphs. It's Wattpad's fault.

**

IT WAS a quarter till five and Samuel and I were home alone.

    

My parents were gone, because once every month Dad would take time off his busy schedule from the police station and take Mom out on a date. The date wasn’t your regular going out to eat dinner at a fancy restaurant kind of date either; it was spontaneous in a way. Dad would choose something on the whim, but it was usually something he thought would be interesting to do with Mom, whether it be as simple as fishing or as exhilarating as hang gliding, and he would work a good whole week on making the preparations for it. Mom would usually know what was coming forth because Dad would give her tiny clues but in the end, it was always a surprise for her.

    

And today was one of those days.

    

I figured out a week ago where Dad was taking her when I managed to intercept the mail the other day, where I saw the tickets to an opera at a venue about an hour and half away from here for today’s date. I took advantage of the coincidence and planned around it, from the events of informing Peter to meet me at my place at five to stealing the keys to Dad’s office.

    

And so far, everything was working in my favor.

    

I walked into the kitchen where I found Samuel sitting at the counter, engrossed in the coloring of one of his drawings, with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk sitting untouched next to him.

    

“Hey, what are you drawing kiddo?” I leaned against the counter next to him and ruffled his hair.

    

Samuel frowned at me. “Don’t call me kiddo! I’m not a kid.”

    

I smiled and raised my eyebrows. “Well too bad, you’re a kiddo as long as you’re shorter than me. So you better drink up that milk if you want to stop being called kiddo, kiddo.”

    

The blonde stared at me with pouting lips as I continued to smile. “That’s a lie!” he declared. “Milk won’t help me grow taller. I’m boycotting it!”

    

“But you like drinking milk,” I reminded him. “And besides, you can’t just boycott milk. That’s crazy.”

    

He shook his head. “Watch me.”

    

I couldn’t help but smile at his determination. “Well, if you boycott milk then you can’t have ice-cream. Which I guess is okay, because that means more ice-cream for me.”

    

Samuel’s face immediately fell upon hearing this. “Not fair! I end my boycott then!” And as if to prove it, Samuel grabbed the glass of milk in front of him and gulped it down in one swing.

    

“Good boy,” I said while patting him on the back. “Now, if you do that every day, you’ll be as tall as me in no time.”

    

“I don’t want to be as tall as you though. I want to be as tall as my friend,” Samuel explained as he pushed his sketchbook toward me.