Alice's Umbrella

Chapter 9: Shark in the Tank

Alice fumbled with her keys as she tried to unlock the front door to her house; it was pitch dark outside, other than the soft glow of streetlights. And Ms. Young was going to be at the hospital, where she recently decided to volunteer until 4 or 5 in the morning, leaving Alice to her own devices all night. Which was fine-she was used to it. She was glad she worked as a projectionist at the old movie theater that played a bunch of artsy foreign films; all she had to do was change reels and start the movies, and then she had plenty of downtime to herself to do homework.

But it was after 10 now, and she hadn't eaten anything beyond a handful of popcorn; she was starving.

Finally, she jiggled the door unlocked and pushed it open, tossing her keys on the console table in the foyer. She didn't bother with the lights as she made her way to the kitchen, so familiar with the exact trajectory that led from the door to the fridge as she was; she could find it blind.

Shrugging her backpack off her shoulders, she had just let it slide from her hand to the floor when she felt arms encircle her from behind. Her heart shot into her throat, forcing out a terrified scream that was quickly muffled by a large hand that covered her mouth. Her arms were effectively pinned to her sides, her back flat against a wall of solid chest. Her legs were free, though, and she'd just geared up to stomp on the person's insole when a warm puff of air tickled her ear.

"Tag, you're it."

Elliott. Her entire body went limp as the fear and adrenaline were sapped from her, but then anger and annoyance immediately surged in their places. She licked his palm with her tongue to get him to remove his hand, and he did so hastily, laughing as he released her from his hold. She whirled around to glower at him; even in the dark, his eyes gleamed. "I'm gonna murder you!" she all but shrieked, her voice tremulous. Still, she was relieved to see him, even if he had scared the shit out of her.

He held his hands up harmlessly, another amused laugh tumbling from his lips. "Man, you've got a filthy mouth," he joked. At her withering glare, he smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I couldn't resist the opportunity. At least, I came bearing food."

And just like that, her anger vanished; her face went slack with excitement as her eyebrows shot up. "Really?" she asked, and he nodded, pointing to the kitchen island behind her. She spun back around, throwing over her shoulder, "Turn on a light, will ya?"

Elliott hit the switch on the wall near him, flooding the kitchen with light. Alice spotted the container immediately, the inside of the lid beading with condensation from the heat of the food. Her mouth was already watering, and she didn't even know what he had brought. It didn't matter; if either he or his dad had made it, it was good.

She perched on a stool and opened the container greedily: meatloaf with mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus. She moaned happily. "Oh, man, you're the best. Thank you; I was probably just going to eat a bowl of cereal."

Grabbing a fork from a drawer, he brandished it for her as he sat down on another stool. "I figured. Dad made extra, of course, and I knew you had to work late, so I thought I'd do my best friend duties," he gloated proudly while she dug in, scooping up a bite of meatloaf and potatoes to shovel into her mouth. It was fantastic.

"I guess thinking I was about to get murdered was totally worth this, thanks," she mumbled around her mouthful. Elliott just smirked.

"You should always be on alert, you know this."

She narrowed her eyes at him, though the way she was stuffing her mouth with food made the look more comical than threatening. "I didn't think a game of tag was serious enough to warrant breaking and entering."