It Doesn't Remind Me of Anything, chapter 7

As I'm comfortably sitting on the couch, trying to concentrate on the show I'm watching, I'm thinking about what my parents might have talked about with each other on the phone the other day. The weather? No. Christmas? Maybe...

While my mind wondered off, Mom trotted into the dimly lit living room I've been sitting in and slowly walked over to the window above me and pulled open the curtains. As soon as the light beamed into the room, I snapped my eyes shut.

"Ah. Jeeze, Mom," I whined.

"Oh come on. You don't need to sit in the dark forever." She sighed and opened curtains to yet another window. As she did that, I covered my eyes with my hand and sighed, loudly.

"Stop it, Amanda. You know, you could always....ya' know, get up and do something."

"Why? I'm enjoying myself," I stated and got up and shut the curtains to the window above my head. Mom rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.

"Amanda Miranda. We need light in here, you're eyes are going to-."

"Ssshh!!" I interrupted. "It's my favorite part!" I stood up and started mumbling to my favorite line to my favorite T.V. show. I thought I knew the words to it, but I guess I don't anymore.

"...Yeah. I don't know the words anymore." Mom just shook her head and chuckled lightly.

"See!" I started. "I don't know the words to my favorite line to my favorite T.V. show! I obviously don't watch T.V. that much!"

"I never said you did," she said calmly, while taking a sip of her Pepsi.

"Oh." I shrugged. And then I remembered that I was going to ask Mom about what her and Dad talked about.

"Ohhh. Mom? Can you please tell me what you and Dad were talking about on the phone yesterday? Please??" Mom sighed and got up off of the chair she was sitting in and headed for the kitchen. I grunted and quickly jumped off the couch and followed her into the kitchen.

"Mom?"

"I... I can't, Mandy," she said quietly while pouring herself another glass of Pepsi.

"Why not?" I put my hands on my hips like an angry young child.

"Your father and I agreed that we wouldn't tell you until the time was right." I gave Mom a dirty look.

"What... what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh. I don't know. Just... just go ask your father. He always gives in easily. I bet you can get him to tell you." Just then, an evil smile slowly crawled on my face.

"Yeah...Thanks, Mom!" I jogged out of the kitchen and up to my room.

When I got to my room, I stopped suddenly to see that Chris was in my room, on my computer.

"What do you think you're doing?!?" I yelled, making him jump. Chris quickly turned around, to face me.

"N-nothing..." He stood up slowly.

"What have I told you about going through my computer? Hmmm?" I started walking towards Chris.

"You said, and I quote "never go through my computer unless there is an emergency, but there will never be such an emergency that will cause you to have to get on my computer, so don't touch it".<i/>" I cocked my head.

"Wow. You're good." Chris smiled and jogged out of my room.

After that, I slowly sat on my bed, and took my cell phone out of my pocket. I dialed my father's cell phone number and then put the phone up to my ear, waiting for Dad to answer the phone.

[i]Ring...

Ring-

"Hello?" said a high, squeaky voice. I smiled at the voice.

"Hi Frankie! Where is Daddy?" I replied enthusiastically, waiting for Frankito to answer me.

"Uhmmmm..." he started, slowly. "I- I don't know." I rolled my eyes.

"Well... can you look?"

"N-no." He started to giggle lightly.

"Whyyy?" I sighed, getting annoyed. Then I heard Frankito's giggles fade away and noticed a different person on the other line.

"Because, I'm right here." I nodded my head once, slowly, realizing Dad was now on the phone.

"Ohhhhh... Hi, Dad."

"Hiya, Mandy. What's up?"

"Not much. But... Mom said I could try to ask you something."

"O-oh? Wh... what do you need?"

"Well..." I started. "I asked Mom what you and her were talking about on the phone the other day, and she wouldn't tell me. And she said that I could probably get you to tell me."

"No." Dad sighed. "I'm not going to tell you."

"Oh come on! Why not? Is it really that important?"

"Yes... well kinda."

"Dad. Just tell meeee," I whined.

"No, Amanda. I'm not going to tell you."

"Fine. But I will find out."

"Fine," Dad replied.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine!" And with that, I hung up on him, before he could say 'fine' again.