"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry, Dad." I muttered, putting on my most innocent face, "but I can't have tea this afternoon."
"What?" My father looked up from the newspaper, peering at me over the rim of his spectacles. My mother threw me a glance as she carried the warm tea and biscuits in a tray to the dining table.
"My stomach is aching," I muttered, looking away so they wouldn't see the lies in my eyes. "I need to stay away from milk and choco today."
"Oh, do you?" My mother replied with a flick of her eyebrows, she stood beside my dad, hands akimbo.
I realized then I needed to end the conversation as quickly as possible. I knew my parents, once they took that stance, I was as good as sunk.
"This is for my good health, okay?" I told them, then turned to leave.
"Wait." My father ordered, freezing me in my tracks. He said nothing else, watching me shrewdly above those spectacles. Under his intense stare, I clutched my stomach pretending it was aching me. I faked a wince.
"Okay, " he finally gave up, returning to his papers. "If you say so."
I tried not to smile as I walked up the short flight of stairs to my room. I patted myself mentally on the back. The moment I was out of sight, I hurried to my room and slid the door shut.
My heart was pounding in fear and excitement of what I was about to do.
I went to my desk and took my wristwatch. By the time displayed, tea time was due to start in two minutes. My family would have tea for ten minutes during which I would break into my parent's bedroom. Simple.
At two o'clock sharp, I snuck out of the room. I had worn socks to keep my footfalls to the minimum. Gently, I shut the door behind me.
Plastered against the wall, I tiptoed along the empty hallway. I could hear the voices of my family.
"Peter," my father was saying to my younger brother. "Please pass me the biscuits."
I almost let out a chuckle at how easily I had fooled them.
Almost immediately, I was before the door to my parent's bedroom. This was it. There was no going back now.
I took hold of the knob and turned it.
The door opened slick and quietly. I walked in and slid it shut behind me. The floor was covered in a thick rug with a king-size bed in the middle. There was a mirror at a desk to my right. And to my left were books and the case of my father's spectacles.
I checked the time, two minutes had passed.
With a deep breath, I set to work.
I knew what I was looking for and where it was.
About a month ago, my father had bought me a Nintendo Gameboy, one of the latest models in the market. And how I loved the game. I had taken it everywhere I went, and my eyes and fingers were always affixed to the pads. This went on for over a week until I began to miss meals. My mom would have to drag me by the ears to leave my room to coke eat or do chores. They just didn't get it, the Gameboy was the coolest thing in the world.
Until my father seized it.
"This new behavior of yours is getting out of hand. The Gameboy will be with me until I decide otherwise." He had thundered after I had accidentally knocked my younger brother off his potty while I was playing the game and walking.
I just couldn't believe it, "but Dad! You can't do that! Please."
"I can do it. One, because in your father. And two, because I bought it with my money."
So he had kept it ever since. I had hoped he would relent and return the game to me but I was wrong. So I decided to take matters into my hands.
And I was getting the Gameboy myself.
Two days ago, while getting his spectacles, I had seen it in one of his traveling boxes. And that was when I began to hatch this plan.
And now, here I was.
I made a beeline for the box, situated just by the window. It was dusty and the black body was pale. I knelt beside it, my heart thinking furiously in my chest.
I carefully unzipped the box and lifted the cover. And the Gameboy was the first thing, smiling up at me.
It was dark blue, it's edges were rounded for perfect grip and the buttons were smooth and soft to touch. I loved it.
I gingerly picked it up, covered up the box, and zipped it back. I stood up, the job was over. I would hide it in my room and play it there. I turned to return to my room, then I froze.
My parents were standing behind me. My mom was frowning and my dad was smirking.
"Stomach ache, huh?" He muttered.
I still had over two minutes left, but they had caught me. It didn't take a genius to tell me they had not believed my lie of stomach ache. And the door that had aided in my entry had also aided in my apprehension. It was just too silent for a door.
"Come to the living room, let's finish tea." My dad suggested, leading the way out.
My mother waited until I walked past her, Gameboy still in my hand as an evidence of my crime before she took the rear.
I knew then I was in really big trouble.
This story is in response to the week's prompt Tea Time or Tee Time. Check it out!
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