3: Did I Do That?

505 46 55
                                    

My alarm blared. My wrist knocked against the side table, toppling the clock to the floor. It had rectangular white numbers displaying the time, and it made a distinct noise as the hour flipped from eight in the morning to nine.

"Right. The weather here can be unpredictable. We expected a warm night yesterday, but instead, it changed to rain! I guess that's how it goes here in Astral City," a distorted voice from the clock's radio announced.

I groaned and turned over. The noise faded out. Staring at the ceiling, the pointed dots of each tile wobbled and spun out of focus. My throat was dry, and my head was pounding. I couldn't even remember when I'd gotten back to my room, or how I'd managed to get there. Everything had gotten lost into the void of colour and light.

I laid there for a few minutes, unable to move. My eyes fluttered closed and sprung open a few times in succession before I forced myself into rolling over.

Tiredly, I glanced down. I was still wearing the same jeans and sweatshirt I'd worn the previous day. The boxes sitting strewn about were watching me, still sealed with packing tape and labelled in Halley's handwriting.

Oh, shit, I remembered. I forgot to call my parents.

I stumbled my way into the hall. I saw a phone in the living room—I could probably use that. When I reached the final step, I spotted Gabriel sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over a binder filled with paper; a pair of reading glasses propped on the bridge of his nose.

He shuffled through the papers without speaking. It was possible he hadn't noticed me yet. It was also possible that I'd slipped up and come out of the closet while drunk.

I picked up the phone and quietly dialled our home phone number. It got through almost three rings before Halley's voice said, "Hello? You've reached the you-are-seriously-in-big-trouble hotline. How may I direct your call?"

I blew out a breath. "Good morning to you, too. What are you doing up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep. I have to get up in a couple of hours anyway," she said. "You sound like shit, by the way."

"Thanks," I replied dimly. "How long did it take to get back to Astoria? Also, are you screwing with me, or am I really in trouble?"

She hummed as if pretending to consider this question. Her silence wasn't helping. "You know, it did take us a while to get home. You could, if you wanted, say you tried to call us earlier, but nobody picked up. That would work. And then you wouldn't be in trouble."

"I see," I said, slowly. "Now that you mention it, I did call earlier. You'll tell them—wait, what do you want from me, Hal?"

She chuckled. "Twenty bucks would be nice."

I twisted the phone cord around my index finger. "Fine. Whatever. I'll send a card."

She didn't even say anything; just giggled like an idiot, and then hung up.

I set the phone back on the receiver. By this time, Gabriel was eyeing me above his pile of papers. "What was that all about?"

Smiling sheepishly, I explained, "I just got extorted by my sister." I ambled over and rested my elbows on the back of a chair. I couldn't tell if the room was wobbling, or if it was all in my head. "What are you working on?"

"An essay for my history class." He gestured to the binder, at the stack of books near his elbow. "I should have finished it before we left for the party last night. Now I've got two hours to write four double-sided pages and I'm starting to lose hope."

He glanced down to the textbook in his lap, scratched a few words on his page, and resumed scanning through the pages again. "This is hopeless. I'll never get it done in time."

Like Orion & SparkWhere stories live. Discover now