Smack!

TWO - stalker

TWO - stalker

There were three reasons why my dad wanted me to work in his restaurant: (1) it would make me a more responsible individual which would attributed to my time management skills between school and work, (2) CDs, make-ups, car gas, movie and concert tickets weren't exactly cheap, and if I want it, therefore, I should earned for it; and (3) why hire and pay extra people if he could hire and pay me and my sisters?

Which was why after school ended at 2:15 PM, I drove straight home to dump my stuffs, and changed into my working uniform: a grey V-neck t-shirt with Benji's embroidered on the right upper breast, and black slacks.

My mom was in the kitchen when I walked in for a snack, sitting on the high stool chair facing the kitchen island with her laptop on; which was weird because these following weeks she was always cooped up in her office writing. We hardly ever see her when we get home, and my sisters and I took turned for the last following nights to bring dinner on her office. I guessed this only meant that she was almost near in finishing her book.

Mom is a critically acclaimed author of sci-fi books.

"Hi honey," she said when I kissed her on the cheek.

Today, mom's jet black hair was put up in a messy top knot, and instead of wearing her prescriptive eye contacts, she was wearing her eyeglasses which were round and big and almost swallowed half of her face.

I made en route towards the fridge, and poured myself some green juice which dad had made earlier this morning.

"How's it going?" I asked as I sat down beside her. There was a bowl of M&Ms in front of her that I reached in a handful and started popping them one by one inside my mouth.

"Rough writing day," she replied, a little glum, her fingers continued typing on her laptop though. "I decided to go down and write on the back porch for inspiration, but it was cold outside so I moved here in the kitchen instead." She sighed and took off her eyeglasses to set her dark brown eyes on me. "Anyway, how's school?"

"Oh, it's alright," I replied which was always my go-to reply whenever my parents asked me about school. It sometimes went in variations though like, okay and fine, but I say alright most of the time.

"Good." She nodded, rubbed her eyes, and put back her eyeglasses again. "Mama will be here later for dinner."

Mama is my grandmother a.k.a my mom's mother. My sisters and I called her Mama because she didn't want us to call her Lola which was the Filipino term for grandmother because it made her sounded old.

Mom's Filipino-American.

After a minute of watching my mom typing away on her laptop in silence, I said, "Well, I guess I shall leave you in peace." I stood up off my seat, put my empty glass on the dishwasher, and washed my hands. "I'm going to walk Lettuce first while I wait for the girls."

"Have fun," she said as I walked out in the kitchen without even taking her eyes off from the screen.

Lettuce was already waiting for me in the front door as he'd heard the sound of his collar leash clicked as I'd pulled it out on the drawers. He's a dark brown, eighty pound, Labrador retriever. Obachan, my dad's mother, and Grampy, my dad's father, gave him to us last Christmas as a gift.

My dad's Japanese-Irish.

Basically, my sisters and I were mixed breed.

Anyway, we called him Lettuce because my sisters and I love the vegetable, and also, because mom didn't want us to name our pets in human names.