The Hooded Figure

FIVE

When the teacher let us go I didn't bother looking back at Trey, I just walked out the door. I smiled once more at the secretary and as I left the office, I noticed that the school was practically deserted, as it should be at 4:30. I huffed as I got to my locker. I unlocked it and grabbed my stuff, shutting it afterwards. As I opened the front door, I spotted my dads car in the parking lot, but I also caught sight of Trey getting into the nicest red Camaro I'd ever seen. The black racing stripe down the middle only added to the appeal.

I'm telling you, if he wasn't such a dick, this would all be happening very differently. Unfortunately, he is, so I simply scoffed and made my way to my dads car. I opened the door and smiled at him, "Hey Dad," I said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Hey Amy," he replied as he smiled and started the car, putting it in gear. "So, how'd you end up in detention?"

I mentally prepared myself to explain the events of the day. After all, my dad and I were super close, we told each other everything. My mom and I used to be close too, but she got a promotion a few years back and it takes up most of her time. She's hardly ever home and when she is, she's sleeping. I don't complain though, she's head nurse at the hospital and she pretty much pays the bills. My mom and dad love each other, but my dads job at the auto shop doesn't exactly cover the expenses of living.

Once I finished retelling the day, my dad looked confused. "So he just left the class?" He asked for the third time as if his brain couldn't process this information.

"Yup," I replied, smiling. We arrived home in our small grey Nissan and I got out of the car. "Thanks for coming to get me, dad."

We lived about fifteen kilometres from the school so walking wasn't a preferred option. I unlocked the door with my keys and left them on the tiny table by the door. I threw my bag on the floor and turned on the TV. My dad was in the kitchen and he was watching from over the island, leaning his body weight onto his forearms.

I was about to change the channel when he said, "Wait! I want to see this for a moment." I put the remote down and left it on the news.

"Now, Alexander Marauder, the topic of everyone's conversation. Where has he gone?" The female anchor asked as a picture of Alexander Marauder appeared on the TV. I gasped at the photo and sat upright to see if my eyes were deceiving me. If I wasn't wrong, the guy on TV looked exactly like young Leonardo DiCaprio!

"Upcoming actor and popstar Alexander Marauder has gone missing. His father assured us it's just another trip away from fame, but how long will he be gone this time? He recently released his new song 'Take Me Back to the Old Days', suggesting that he was unhappy with his stardom and didn't want to continue performing. His producer, Paul Talon, is said to have helped him hide. If either of these two are spotted, take a picture and post it with the tag #YoungLeoFound. We are eager to get our rising star back to Hollywood. Wherever you are, Alexander, Hollywood needs you," the male anchor continued, stacking his papers. I rolled my eyes, it's not like Hollywood needs another teeny bopper like Justin Bieber.

"Okay, you can change it," my dad said, disappearing from behind the kitchen. My fingers moved numbly as I changed the channel. I hadn't realized that the channel I'd changed it to was Gossip With Gavin, tacky, I know.

"Where do you think your son could be, Mr. Marauder?" Gavin asked the man with brown hair. I couldn't judge his eye color from the TV, but I did know that he didn't resemble the boy in the photo.

"He could be anywhere in the world, he has his own private jet," Mr. Marauder reasoned, probably concealing the fact that he had absolutely no idea where his own son would go. It seemed that Gavin had the same idea.

"So you're telling us you have no idea where your son would want to go?" Gavin was playing Mr. Marauder, cornering him. Now this was good TV.

"I have guesses, but I can't know for certain," he tugged his collar nervously as he spoke. Gavin caught the movement and smiled.

"You're right. How will you deal with him once you find him?" Gavin questioned, crossing his legs.

"I intend to punish him severely for running away," his father declared, looking proud. Gavin frowned and looked at him incredulously.

"Why would you do such a thing?" Gavin asked and Mr. Marauder's confidence faltered. "The boy is in fact a man, is he not? He's 18. Technically, he can go where he wants. Why should a man be punished for wanting to explore? He rose to fame at such a young age, he's been deprived of a normal childhood, perhaps that's all he wants."

Mr. Marauder seemed to ponder this. "No, my boy doesn't want to be 'normal'. Why be normal when you can be famous? Plus, most children have no control over their lives, he has full-partial control over his schedule and life."

"What is, full-partial control?" Gavin asked, clarifying for what everyone probably thought was ridiculous.

"Well, I plan the tours and he gets to choose the transportation, that sort of thing," he explained. I looked at Mr. Marauder confusedly, as did most of Canada probably.

Gavin looked at him with astonishment before seemingly snapping out of a daze and shaking his head. He looked disappointed. "Alright ladies and gentlemen, we'll be back after the break with another guest. Thank you, Mr. Marauder!"

With that, I shut off the TV in sort of a daze myself. How could his father have no idea where he was? He said that he had some guesses, but I doubt they were even close. It sounded like Gavin knew more about Alexander Marauder's inner workings than his father did.

"Supper!" My dad called from the dining room. I could smell the microwaved alfredo sauce and I smiled.

"Coming!" I replied as I sprung up from the couch excitedly, my straight brown hair bouncing against my back. I made my way to the dining room and grinned as I sat down. "Thanks, dad," I said as I took a bite of the delicious alfredo. Microwaved or not, it was still amazing.

"No problem, Ames," he responded with a warm smile.