It Was Fate (A McPriceley Fanfiction) {Book 1}

Chapter 5: Arnold Needs To Start Being Home On Time

THUD!

"Ow! Hey!"

"AHHH! WHAT THE DIDDLY-DARN HECK?!"

Kevin's eyes quickly opened, and he took a moment to adjust to the dark room. When he did, his gaze darted over to Arnold's bed, where he found a figure standing above it. His immediate reaction was to reach over and flick the bedside lamp on. Rubbing his tired eyes, Kevin looked at the scene before him.

Connor was lying on the ground, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand. Standing above him was a terrified Arnold Cunningham, covering his own face with a bedsheet. Kevin blinked a few times, and pinched himself, to make sure he wasn't hallucinating or dreaming.

"KEVIN!" Arnold screeched, gripping onto the bedsheet tighter, as if his life depended on it. "KEVIN, HELP!"

"What the fuck is going on?" Kevin asked, in a tired, groggy voice. "Arnold?"

"THERE'S A MURDERER IN MY BED! KEVIN, KILL IT!" He shrieked.

Kevin rolled his eyes, sliding out of bed, and turning to face the disgruntled Connor McKinley. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Connor grumbled, still rubbing his forehead, and letting out a long yawn.

"DON'T BE NICE TO IT! KILL IT, KEVIN! GET IT OUT OF HERE!"

"Arnold, it's not a murderer. It's Elder McKinley," Kevin explained, grabbing Connor's hands, and helping him to his feet. "See?"

Slowly removing the bedsheet from in front of his face, Arnold's eyes glanced over Kevin and Connor. He immediately squealed in terror, and jumped backwards. "ELDER MCKINLEY, YOU'RE A MURDERER?! I TRUSTED YOU!"

"Arnold, shut the hell up. People are trying to sleep, and my ears are bleeding," Kevin rubbed his temples, as Connor tiredly rocked back and forth beside him, looking like he was about to collapse at any waking moment. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I dunno Kevin, this is our room after all," Arnold stuck his tongue out at his mission companion, receiving the same gesture in response. "The real question is, what is McKinley: The Murderer doing in here?!"

"I'm not a murderer," Connor replied, sleepily, yawning again. He restrained himself from closing his eyes.

"That's exactly what a murderer would say. Kevin, did you leave the window open?! You know that Nutmeg warned us about that when we first arrived!"

"Arnold! Did you not read the post-it note on the door? The one that Elder McKinley left for you?"

"Of course I read the...the uh, post-it note on the door. Pfft, what kinda stupid question is that?" Arnold scoffed, pretending to be offended.

Kevin crossed his arms. "Oh, yeah? What'd it say then?"

"That Jesus loves me..?" Arnold took a shot in the dark, and Connor stifled a giggle.

"No."

"No, Jesus doesn't love me; or no, that's not what it said?"

Kevin shook his head, and rolled his eyes. He stomped over to their door, swinging it open with full force, clearly agitated. Ripping off the glow-in-the-dark post-it note, and shoving into Arnold's hands, Kevin stood in front of his companion with his arms crossed, and began tapping his foot impatiently.

Arnold pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, eyes skimming through the beautifully written, cursive letters, that had every 'i' and 'j' dotted with a heart. Not completely understanding what he had just read, he began to reread it aloud, to see if he could make sense of it better, "Dear Elder Cunningham, if you get home tonight, please know that living arrangements have been adjusted due to arguments amongst the-- ehh, those are big words that I can't read-- and you have been temporarily relocated to Elder Davis' room..."