Chapter 19

When Lance finally returned home, he walked into the house a little awkwardly, despite his efforts to look normal. It was still morning and he didn't expect to find anyone at home, but yet, the front door wasn't locked. The TV in the sitting room was also turned on. He grabbed the remote control and turned down the volume, but suddenly, he heard a sound emanate from the direction of the kitchen. Oh, perhaps Mom's taking a day off work, he thought. Turning his steps in that direction, he walked into the kitchen unannounced.

"Morning Mom," he greeted as he went over to the fridge. There was no response and he wondered if she was mad at him for not informing her the previous day that he would stay the night after the "party". But he had told her, had he not? Anyway, for now, he was more focused on getting himself filled with both food and drink after the punishment he had received from Cara. He found a pack of his favourite juice at the far end of the top shelf and pulled it out. Shutting the door with his leg, he opened the pack and gulped a mouthful.

"Mom, I... Jeez!", he started in shock as he turned around and found someone very different from his mom smiling at him. An average height brunette that looked to be around his age, sporting perfect white teeth, her hair tied in a loose bun and looking very comfortable in his mother's kitchen.

"Who the hell are you?", Lance blurted, eyeing her with suspicion.

"I'm Carol... your mother's namesake. Nice to meet you... Lance," she smiled even wider, presenting her hand for a shake.

"So what the hell are you doing here?", he demanded, ignoring her outstretched hand. She was forced to withdraw it and the smile on her face reduced by a few watts.

"Well, I'm your mother's friend and... she asked me to stay behind and.. look after.. stuff."

She certainly didn't find it easy to construct the sentence probably due to her being unsure of why she was left behind or a temporary lack of words to express it. And Lance's gaze didn't help much either. But he continued staring at her, probing her with his eyes for a few more seconds and then abruptly walked past her.

"By the way, your breakfast is in the oven. Should I serve it up?"

But he had already gone out of the kitchen. He had most likely heard the question, but had chosen to ignore her. She didn't need mind-reading abilities to figure out the fact that he disliked her. But for what reason, she had no idea.

Lance marched out of the kitchen and made straight for his room, locking the door behind him and plopping down on a chair. Then he picked his phone and dialed his mother. He waited impatiently as the phone rang over and over again, but she did not pick up. He called again and this time, she picked up on the third ring.

"Mom, who's this you left behind here at the house?", he abruptly said into the phone.

Carol sighed loudly, but it was a few seconds before she spoke.

"I'm really busy here, Lance. We'll talk about this later when I get home."

"W...", he was about to say, but she had already disconnected the call. With an angry hiss, he threw the phone down on the bed and leaned back in his chair. Why on Earth would his mother leave a stranger all alone in the house? What he found most galling was how comfortable the girl seemed. She looked like she had been living there her entire life. What nonsense! Anna was already more than a handful; adding another one was certainly not a pleasant development as far as he was concerned. Somehow, he felt that this new girl was here to keep a close watch on him or something of the sort. Just then, he heard a soft knock on the door and his head snapped up. "Who's it?", he called out.

"It's me, Carol," came the quiet reply.

Reluctantly, Lance got to his feet and walked over to the door. He opened it a tiny bit and peered out at her. "What is it?", he demanded in a stiff tone.

"Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to know if you'd like me to bring your breakfast up here or if you'd like..."

"No. I'm not hungry," he lied. But the involuntary double blink of his eyes and the sudden growl of his stomach betrayed him.

"Well, I...", Carol was saying, but he suddenly shut the door in her face. His stomach growled again in disapproval as he made his way back to the chair. To say he was hungry was the understatement of the century. He was famished, to say the least! He had not eaten a morsel before leaving Cara's house in order to avoid the risk of getting detained for much longer. But now that he was back home, this stumbling block of a girl was preventing him from having his breakfast. He just wanted her out of the way, so he could get a chance to eat the most important food of the day. More important than ever, in light of what he had been through in the last 13 hours or so. Whatever trap she was trying to set, he would never fall into it. Bring up your breakfast, my ass

***

Step after step, a barefooted Lance tiptoed down the stairs like a burglar. He had tried to ignore and suppress the pangs of hunger, but it had gotten so bad that he was now forced to go out and hunt for food. He wasn't so sure, but he reasoned that the girl must have left the kitchen by now. The house was quiet enough to give him such a hint. But even though he was moving quietly, his stomach was threatening every second to rat him out with its now constant rumbling. He prayed the sound was not loud enough to reach her ears, wherever she was.

As he approached the kitchen, he craned his neck as much as he could, desperately wishing to see without being seen. But it seemed there was no one in there. So he tiptoed into the place.

After one quick look around to ensure that he was alone, he went for the microwave - where his breakfast, now turned lunch, was supposedly stored. Shit! It was empty. His stomach expressed its disappointment with an especially loud rumble. He had to turn his attention elsewhere, so he opened the cupboard containing pots. Maybe he could try to cook something quick as noiselessly as possible.

"Can I help?"

Lance started in shock at the sound of her voice and the pot he was holding fell off his hand, clattering noisily on the rest. He just left them like that. Shutting the cupboard with a sigh of frustration, he turned around and made a face at her - one that he hoped did not look too disappointed or angry.

"It's nothing," he shrugged and his stomach quickly screamed otherwise. "I just.. em.. something actually.. fell in there. But I've got it. No problems."

Without waiting for her response, he hurried out of the kitchen. He was leaving the house to go buy some fast food.

Later, in the evening, when Carol had returned home from work and was resting in the sitting room with her feet on the table, Lance marched in and greeted her with the words, "We need to talk about that new girl, Mom."

Carol turned her head and looked steadily at him. His stance, his facial expression and his tone, all pointed to decided disapproval.

"What's the problem?", she sighed tiredly. "What did she do?"

"It's not a matter of what she did, but what she will do," Lance replied, still on his feet and with his expression unchanged. "In fact, I'm yet to understand why she's here in the first place."

Carol's eyebrows shut up. Did she hear that right?

"Last I checked, son, this was my house, so I owe you no explanation about who I decide to invite in or send out."

She immediately realized that those words had a sharp and heavy meaning - one she hadn't meant to convey. Softening her tone, she quickly added, "By the way, she's just a friend of mine. Her mother and I were very close. I persuaded her to stay here and attend school in order to save some costs, so don't go about making me look stupid. She's as harmless as a cocker spaniel, so your suspicions are baseless."

By now, she was already on her feet and walking towards him. When she got beside him, she whispered in his ear, "End of discussion." And then with a kiss on his forehead, she made her way upstairs.

Lance stood where she had left him, confused and undecided. What was he to make of her statement? He certainly wasn't cold hearted and those words of hers had hit their mark and paralyzed him. Initially, he thought he sensed a threat in there, but she had cleared it aside with a plea for him to not make her look stupid - something he would never do, even if she hadn't asked. Argh! He wished he could change his mind about that girl. Really, he did. But it wasn't that simple. His gut feeling that she was far from innocent and artless was so strong that he couldn't strike it off, just like that. But what was he to do when his mother had already spoken? Like she had said, it was her house. She was the only one paying the rents. Maybe he should start contributing to paying the rent, just so he would have a say. But for now, the only available option was to wait and see how things would turn out. Who knows, maybe he would be proven wrong! But he doubted it. He doubted it very much.