Chapter 5 - Differences
Hey Mom and Dad,
Things are going fine since you've been gone. Lucas, my babysitter, can get annoying sometimes, and he has a good reputation at school so I'm being careful. I would say the only good thing is that he began to take me to school in his car and it saved a lot of walking for me.Was that part of his deal or something?
Anyways, Pearl, our maid, came yesterday and she's really friendly. She cooked these great meals for us and she cleaned everything. She's coming again tomorrow. Make sure you guys really pay for her gratitude, she's awesome!
I hope you guys come home! And I hope you're having fun, too. Just be back before Christmas because I know we won't be doing Halloween together this year. I love you lots!
Love, Maya.
After I was done with the letter, I clicked send and leaned back on my swivel chair. I hope they reply soon. I went to a new Word document and started working on yesterday's hot topic for the newspaper. I typed until the whole article was done, but I didn't edit it just yet. I really needed a break. I rolled my shoulders in pain. I rubbed my eyes and walked upstairs. I heard faint music coming from the guest room and guessed it was Lucas playing my guitar.
I originally went to the door to take my guitar away to practice, but I leaned against the wall, listening quietly. He was so talented at it, it was bothersome. Just as I closed my eyes, the music stopped and I heard shuffling. I sighed and got off the wall, standing in front of the door ready to knock. At that same moment, Lucas opened the door and we both jolted in surprise. Talk about timing.
"You scared the shit out of me," Lucas said, holding the guitar and breathing heavily.
"And so did you," I said, putting my hands on my hips and eyeing the guitar. "Why is that in your hands? I never gave you permission toplay it."
"I thought I could practice for a while until you're done with your article," he said. "I was going to go put it back in your room."
"Okay, so you went inside my room even though I told you not to?" I said. He shrugged and I snatched the guitar, walking away. He followed me as I went into my bedroom and I gave him a look.
"I like to go to your room, okay?" he said, going to the Canada map. "It's pretty cool."
"'Stupid' would be a better word, right?" I said, touching the guitar strings and stroking its texture.
"How dense can you be?" he said. "I really do think your room is pretty sick. And I want to know what's in those boxes." He walked to a shelf that had decorated, mini-cardboard boxes lined up on the middle shelf.
"It's pretty useless stuff," I said. "It's not all that exciting."
"I'm sure. But I'm interested," he said.
"I don't trust you."
"I won't touch anything," he said stubbornly. I sighed, taking my guitar off and walking to where he was standing. I pulled out the first box and we sat on the ground, with it between us. I opened the box and inside were spaced trays, filled with rocks.
"My rock collection," I said, taking out a slip of paper and reading the dates. "I started this one when I was 7 and stopped when I was 13, so before high school started." I took out one tray at a time and explained that I used the trays to organize my rocks by their appearance. The shiniest ones go at the top and the boring ones go at the bottom.
