Opheliac (10 page)

“Thanks for the ride home. I seriously was not sure how I would handle all of the awkward if I had to witness JD and Cadence…talking,” Angela muttered as she unbuckled her seat belt. Orlando watched her fumble with the release, amused. She'd been on edge most of the night, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Sitting back in his seat, he leaned against the driver's side door. “No problem. I appreciate you humoring me with a run to the convenience store for a few minutes. I'm sure by now you're sick of me.”

“Only a tiny bit, but you're probably doubly sick of me.” She giggled. Why did girls have to do that? It was too cute.

“Only a tiny bit,” he echoed, smirking at her. “Truth be told, you're one of the few people I can spend an extended period of time with and not feel homicidal urges. You don't always have to talk to me, and going out doesn't need to be some kind of big affair. Two things that are important to me.”

A small blush crept across her cheeks, and he couldn't help but be curious as to why. “Even
I
get tired of talking.”

“No kidding?”

She playfully swatted his arm. “You're one to talk.”

“And what's that supposed to mean?”

“When you get going, nothing shuts you up.” Angela winked and then glanced out the window. “JD is spying on us. What a dork. I'm surprised he's even home, but I guess that means there's still trouble in paradise.”

Orlando lifted his head so he could gaze out of her window. Sure enough, JD was glowering at the two of them through a crack in the living room curtains. Rolling his eyes, Orlando had to resist the urge to put an arm around Angela just for the sake of ruffling JD's feathers. “He always get this worked up over stuff?”

“Do I really have to answer that?” Angela raised her eyebrows.

“I retract my question. You're right. This is JD we're talking about.” He stretched, yawning. “Next time we'll just have to give him something to get worked up over.”

That comment got a cough and a squeak out of her. “Y-yeah. I guess we will. Anyway, I'll see you this weekend, for sure. Possibly sooner.”

“Sooner,” he echoed. “Definitely, because I might need to get out again.”

Nodding, all the while smiling weakly, Angela got out of the car. She poked her head in. “Try not to be
too
hard on them. You know, in case they get fed up and ship you off to boarding school or something.”

“They wouldn't do that.” He rolled his eyes, but her words struck him harder than he anticipated.
Why send me away when they're not home to deal with me? Unless Mom meant it this time when she said she was staying. Would they send me away so they could have their precious mansion without having to do any of the work of parenting?

Angela's smile faded. “I was joking. Okay? Don't read too much into it. Not to sound like I'm their advocate, but you should at least consider being more civil.”

“Considering,” he muttered. “I'll see you later.” He watched her shut the door, wave one last time through the window, and then go inside of her house, before speeding off. Inside, he seethed. What did she know about his family? Outside of what he bothered to share, nothing.
So her suggestion of being civil is a stupid idea. I've never had to be nice to them before
.

The last time Orlando's parents had been home was over the summer. They celebrated birthdays, Christmas, Easter, and good grades. Celebrating was giving him fancy clothes that didn't fit him, a stuffed animal from wherever they had visited, one embarrassingly large gift of some kind, a few video games, and some books his mother recommended he read. At least she had made an attempt at being thoughtful. Most of the money went into his bank account and had later been invested in remodeling the Apartment. The whole event lasted for two days. Orlando could be civil to them for two days, keeping the sarcastic comments to a minimum and pushing his anger toward them aside. A week and a half was another story.

Orlando made his way home, knowing he could no longer delay the inevitable—alone time with his family. Having Angela around for dinner had been a blessing. She kept the whole thing comfortable, and his parents warmed up to her fairly quickly. While his mother was always a generally nice person to be around, his father was another story. The fact that Angela could get a smile out of the man spoke volumes about her charm. But he had no interest in being around without a buffer.

When he entered the mansion, he noticed the lights were still on in the living room. Lyssa liked to do that if she was waiting up for him. Peeking his head inside, Orlando saw his mother and father on the couch watching something on TV. Carefully, he started to tiptoe down the hallway toward the stairs.

“Don't even think about sneaking up to your room,” his father called out.

Groaning, Orlando walked into the living room. “What? I didn't do anything.”

“What time is it?”

He glanced at the clock. “Nine-thirty. Why?”

“Isn't that a little late to be out on a school night?”

With a loud huff, Orlando rolled his eyes. “Yeah, for a five-year-old. I'm almost eighteen. I thrive on getting five hours of sleep every night, and then wasting my day in bed on the weekends. It's kind of normal, in case you didn't know.”

“From now on, as long as we're here, you're back in the house by nine.”

“So basically for the next week, I have a curfew?”

His father's jaw tightened. “Lyssa has given you too much slack. And for the record, we'll be staying for much longer than a week.”

“Okay, so two weeks then.”

“I'm trying to be serious here. The attitude is not appreciated,” his father said darkly.

Taking in a deep breath, Orlando did his best to regain some of his center. “A curfew I understand. Nine just seems…early. I hardly ever go out.”

“Funny, that's all you've been doing since we got here. If you're not out with your friends, you're in your room playing some video game.”

“I read too,” he mumbled. Louder he said, “This is the first time I've actually had friends to hang out with in a long time. Before…I did it a lot. Then after Dallas, I…stopped. Holing up in my room with my games and stuff is more the norm.”

A small smirk appeared on his father's face and it caught Orlando off-guard. The man actually had a sense of humor similar to his own. “Or you're trying to avoid me.”

Orlando winced. “That too.” Why lie? It seemed like such a waste. “Nothing personal, it's just weird. I like to be on my own.”

“Not to hinder your individuality, but sometimes your own thing isn't a great idea.” Taking in a deep breath, his father resumed his stoic nature. “I need to be able to know where you are. It's important to me. After what happened with the…mugging, you could say your mother and I have had a bit of a reality check.”

“Thanks for noticing me,” Orlando grumbled.

The expression his father wore softened. “We always notice.”

“Yeah. Right.” Scoffing, Orlando spun on his heel to go up to his room. “You can know where I am when you finally tell me where you all go all of the time.”

For the first time since he came home, his mother spoke, and it was enough to stop him in his tracks. “We can do that. You're old enough to know.”

Swallowing, he faced his parents. They stood side by side, holding one another, and it was bizarre. Neither of them was affectionate often. “Okay, hit me. Where do you go all of the time and what do you do that's more important than being here? Be honest. If it's because you couldn't handle being parents or something, just say so. A lot of people don't like kids.”

“Oh, honey, do you honestly think we don't like you? We love you,” his mother whimpered.

“Like and love are two different things.” He shrugged, averting his gaze away from her tear-filled eyes.

“They are different, but we like you. We always have. Being away is a lot harder on us than you understand,” his father said. “Do you want to talk now, or are you tired from all of your adventures today?”

Orlando was about to die from a mixture of shock and curiosity. Never before had his parents been forthcoming with information about what they did whenever they left the house. “I got time.”

“You're sure now is the time?” his mother asked in a soft voice. “What about Lyssa? She needs to know too.”

Nodding, his father walked into the kitchen. “And we'll tell her too, but it's going to be harder to explain to her. If he knows first, he might be able to help.” He opened up a cupboard. “I'm going to make some coffee and something to eat. Go and get the presents, Farrah. Orlando, sit down. Is there anything you want?”

“Depends, can you cook better than Mom?” Orlando asked, trying to keep his tone playful so he didn't insult anyone. His mother tried hard, so he had to give her some points for all of the effort.

He sat down in a large, plush, black leather chair, making himself comfortable as instructed. Why was he ready to hear the big secret and not his sister? Was she even home in the first place? In the past, he'd assumed she had already been told about whatever it was his parents did. He was now rethinking that theory.

While his father bustled about in the kitchen, his mother brought out several gift bags of various sizes and colors.
This is not how I was expecting my night to go,
Orlando mused. Ever since Alan popped into his life, every day became unpredictable.

“Do you want some coffee?” his father asked, entering the room with a spread of food on a tray. Most of it was junk food: a bowl of potato chips, some onion dip, candy, and popcorn. A dish of trail mix and a plate of sliced carrot sticks were the only two things that were healthy.

Orlando wasn't sure what to make of the man wanting to wait on him hand and foot. “No, it's kind of late for coffee.”

“We could have a long night.”

“I can manage to stay awake until the middle of the night without the caffeine, but help yourself?” Orlando almost made a joke about his parents being old, but he decided to not push the humor too much. He was almost positive his parents had been kidnapped by aliens while he was driving Angela home.

His father put the food on the coffee table before getting the pot of coffee and bringing it over as well. He poured two mugs of the piping-hot liquid and handed one to his wife, and then both sat down on the couch.

Why is Mom's hand shaking so much? She's going to spill all over herself.
Orlando frowned, watching them. He cleared his throat. “So…what's going on?”

Taking a moment to take a small sip of coffee, his mother met his gaze with her own. “We brought you some things from our last trip.”

“O…kay…”

Hands still shaking, she moved the largest gift bag in front of him. “Go ahead.”

Orlando gazed down at the bag, raising one of his eyebrows. Curiously, he pulled off the abundance of red tissue paper that matched the color of the bag. His hand brushed against soft, synthetic fur.
Another stuffed animal? I'm not five.
Still, there was something sweet about the abundance of plushies his parents bought him. When he was younger, they made for good friends to fill the empty space of the mansion. Sometimes they were the only thing keeping him connected to his parents.

Unlike the other animals he had received, this one was a fictional creature. Most of the time, he opened the gift wrapping to find exotic animals from all over the world. Elephants, giraffes, pandas, gorillas, and just about every other wild species on the planet. They tended to represent wherever it was his mother and father were working, or that was the assumption he made. Staring at the alien-like animal in the bag, he wasn't so sure.

Carefully, as if it were possibly alive, he pulled it from the bag and examined it. The stitching and fabric was high quality. A sweet, dog-like face gazed back at him. Its eyes were large, round, and orange; the fur was wild and fluffy, much like that of his two long-haired cats. In all actuality, the whole animal reminded him a lot of a dog with a few major differences. While the face shape was the same, the critter had six legs instead of four. Rather than being a soft brown, black, or white color, it had bright orange and purple fur.

“I…thanks…” he said, unsure of what he thought of the gift. More importantly, what his parents were trying to say through it.

His father took a long sip of coffee. “It's called a ponda. As you can see, they're similar to dogs. Even in nature, they have a lot of the same spirit. They live on a planet called Altura and are the popular house pet.”

Orlando chuckled, admiring the back story that had been invented to go along with the toy. Until his brain focused in on one word: Altura. He choked on the air, coughing and blinking as he processed what he had just been told. “W-what did you say?”

“You know what I said,” his father said calmly.

“A-Altura?”
How do
they
know about Altura? Wait a second, if this is an animal from there, does that mean…?
“H-have you…been there?”

“Several times.”

Speechless, something that was near-impossible for Orlando. He almost always had something on his mind to share, but at that moment his was a total blank. “You know…”

“I know,” his father echoed. “We can talk about your dabbling in the war later. Right now, I have more to tell you. The ponda that you're holding is similar to the one I grew up with back home.”

“Then that means you're from…” Orlando swallowed. “Altura.”

“Yes, and your mother was my childhood sweetheart.”

“So that means she's from there too…”

“Right, which makes you and your sister—”

Orlando sucked in a slow breath, feeling nauseated. “Alturan.”