It wasn't until Kimmy had dropped me off in front of my house and driven away that I realized I had forgotten my clothes at Alex's house. I looked down at the clothes I was wearing and closed my eyes as if I could will it to change form. "Fuck my life."
The anxiety I was feeling spiked even further as I took the few steps to get to my front door. I took the spare keys from under the pot by the door and unlocked the door before placing it back in its spot.
I opened the door slowly and shut it silently after I stepped inside. I took my shoes off and placed in on the rack by the door. I swallowed the lump in my throat, praying to God that my parents will spare my soul for this, but once I walked into the living room and saw that no one was sitting there, waiting to grill my ass the second I got home, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief.
Today's not the day my parents are sending me to the Lord's home, kids.
I didn't want to push my luck so I made a mad dash to my bedroom to quickly change my clothes before they can see me in a man's clothes and get a whiff of the lie I told them. I was so close to getting away with it, I will not fail myself now more than ever.
Thanks to my dear sister, my parents have major trust issues. It wouldn't take them much to start the interrogation session if they see me coming home after a "sleepover at Kimmy's" with men's clothing. As they like to say, "they were not born yesterday."
I'm pretty sure that translated to: I was once your age and have done the same stupid shit you're probably up to so don't even try to fool me because I've been there, done that.
I can't really blame them for their trust issues either, though. It was pretty understandable since it wasn't like the things they suspect their daughters to be doing were complete bogus. I mean look at my dear sister who goes home at the break of dawn every other weekday. Hell, look at me now, going back home after spending the night at a boy's house after being held in a holding cell in the police station.
The police weren't obliged to call our parents since we were legally adults, so I don't think they got a call from the station reporting to them what happened to me last night or at least that's what I was hoping for.
After shutting the door to my room and locking it, I took out my phone and scrolled through my contacts to find Alex's number. I remember getting his phone number 4 years ago but I wasn't sure that he still kept the same number. After all, 4 years is a long time.
"Hi" I typed into the box, my finger hovering over the send button before I changed my mind and tapped the delete button rapidly. I bit the finger on my thumb as I thought of what I should say. I spent another 5 minutes doing the same thing over and over again, typing and erasing what I typed, before I finally got frustrated and threw my phone to the bed.
I went to my wardrobe and grabbed some of my own clothes to change into. I slipped out of Alex's clothes and into my own and took Alex's clothes and shoved it into my laundry basket to bring them to the machine and wash it before my parents see the unfamiliar clothes and question me about it.
After getting the washer started, I went back to my room and picked my phone up to try again.
After much contemplation done while waiting for the machine to finish washing, I decided to just go "screw it" and text him whatever came to my mind. So, I sent him a small paragraph, complete with an apology and the inevitable request I had to make that went a little like:
I'm really sorry but I forgot my clothes at your place. I'm really really really sorry, I swear it wasn't intentional. I also forgot that I was wearing your clothes - I know that might be hard to believe but it really did slip my mind - and I ended up bringing them home with me. They're in the wash right now. Can we meet up tomorrow to swap?
Tomorrow was Monday so I assumed that we'd see each other in school anyways. I placed my phone, face down beside me on the bed as I bit on my fingernails nervously as I waited for his reply.
When he didn't answer my text yet, I got up and walked out of my room to check on the clothes in the washing machine to see if they were done. I left my phone in my room to avoid letting myself obsess over it, so that I don't end up opening it every few second to check if he had replied.
I took the clothes out of the washing machine once it chimed, signaling that it's finished its job, and placed them in the dryer next. I waited by the dryer, trying to stay away from my room and my phone as long as I could. I hate the way I was obsessing over it.
I took my clothes from the dryer once they were dry and placed them back into the laundry basket and carried them back into my room.
The second that my phone dinged, I was already across the room, hands grabbing my phone at a speed quicker than light. My fingers unlocked it to let me see his response.
My eyes went over the text and I sighed in relief.
That sounded alright, right?
That doesn't scream annoyed.
Not at all.
I sighed closing my eyes, getting up from the bed and hitting my head softly against my bedroom wall several times.
I shook my head to take my mind off it. Whatever. Just get it over with.
I placed my phone back onto the bed and grabbed the laundry basket that had toppled over on the ground where I had dropped it in my rush to get to my phone. Pathetic Em.
I picked up the clothes that fell out of the basket and set it upright again by my bed before taking out the ironing board and the steam iron to start ironing the washed laundry.
Once I finished ironing and folding my laundry, I set Alex's clothes aside and bagged it in a plastic bag before placing it in my school bag so that I'll remember to bring it with me tomorrow.
I put away all my folded laundry into my wardrobe and stored the ironing board and the steam iron before finally letting myself relax and fall back onto my bed.
I closed my eyes to enjoy the peace and quiet for a while before my brain decided to attack me once again and reminded me I have yet to see my parents or Lily.
"Now that I think about it, the house is too damn quiet." I thought to myself as I sat up from my bed, using my hands to push myself up.
I got out of my bedroom and walked down the hall to get to Lily's room, barging inside without bothering to knock, because who knocks on their siblings door anyways.
I didn't know what I was expecting but I was definitely not expecting a boy to be in my sister's bedroom, on her bed, sleeping beside her.
The only thing that stopped me from murdering my sister right there and then was the fact that they both were fully clothed.
But that was about it.
Here I was, trying so hard to cover up the fact that I stayed over at a guy's place last night, trying to cover up my tracks so meticulously to make sure that my parents won't be able to discover the lie Kimmy and I have been feeding them since last night, and then there was my sister.
My dear dear sister. My demonic sister.
Who's living a very dangerous life.
Bringing a boy home.
Letting him stay in her room.
Letting him sleep on the same bed as her.
With her on it.
Sleeping right next to him.
It took everything in me to not scream. I didn't want to end up alerting my parents, in case they were actually still inside the house and they just miraculously haven't walked in on the sleeping couple somehow.
I've never even heard of my sister dating any guy recently.
And she tells me everything.
At least I thought she told me everything.
I didn't know which thought was worse. The fact that she didn't tell me about getting a boyfriend or if this was just a fling.
I mean, why. the. fuck. would. you. disrupt. this. house's. peace. and. quiet. just. for. a. fucking. fling.
I really hope, for her sake, that this wasn't just a fling or she might actually pass away from this world - by my hands.
I shut the door behind me quietly and walked over to her bed, over to the side that she was sleeping at. I clenched and unclenched my hands into fists, trying to hold myself back from slapping the shit out of my sister.
I love her but she's a fucking dumbass sometimes.
I go through such lengths to make sure that my parents don't find out about the shit I get dragged into and worry about their daughters but here my sister is, acting like a fucking dumbass.
Please do excuse my french. If you can't already tell by now, I was pissed at her.
I didn't know how I should wake her up without accidentally committing first degree murder in the process so I poked her forehead.
She drew her eyebrows together and frowned, grumbling something under her breath as she snuggled even further into her bed.
That made me angrier.
How could she sleep so soundly in this situation.
Was I the only one who saw the potential disaster her actions might bring to our household?
Were we somehow raised by different parents?
Were the parents that she's been living with different from the ones I've been living with?
This time I slapped her forehead with the back of my hand and this time she yelped aloud. "Ow!"
She flinched, her hand rubbing the spot I had hit and one of her eyes peeking open to see who her attacker was.
The boy beside her stirred in his sleep and was starting to wake up from his slumber. When he cracked his eyes open and saw that someone else was inside the room, his eyes widened and all the sleepiness left his expression.
He shot out of the bed quicker than I could reach out and give him a good smack across the face.
Since my hand wasn't long enough to smack the guy, I smacked my sister instead, for the second time.
And the girl had the audacity to actually look angry at me the second time I did it.
"Ow! Why are you hitting me?!" She complained.
"Why am I.." I huffed in disbelief and exasperation as I tilted my head to look up at the ceiling. I had a strong urge to pinch the bridge of my nose because I feel like one of the blood vessels in my head might pop from the high blood tension I'm most likely experiencing and I might have blood running out of my nose soon.
"Are you serious right now?" It was a rhetoric question, of course. It would've probably been best if she didn't respond at all but being the feisty lil' shit she was, of course she had to have the final say.
"What's got you so wind up? And why are you taking it out on me?"
Right then and there, I considered hauling my sister and throwing her out of the house - through the second floor window.
Yep, she's dead. I'm going to make myself an only child right now, this second.