When Destiny Plays (Completed)

Chapter Thirty-One

"Hey, Carl. I hope you're home safely. Look, I'm sorry about this afternoon. I didn't mean to... I didn't mean anything about it. I'm really sorry. If you feel like it, please call me. I have something to explain to you."

I sent the voice message to Carl before having dinner downstairs. I came to my sense once I'm home. Darn it if you're short-tempered!

I keep my phone in my pocket during dinner, hoping that he'd call me. No show. Not until after washing the dishes that I received his text.

I'm coming over.

I gulped, eyes wide. It's already eight in the evening, tell me he's really joking.

I joined Dad in the living room who's watching some news while waiting for Carl. About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.

"I'll go get it." I quickly stood but Dad stopped me.

"No, let me. Stay inside," he said with his alertness on its wake.

Is he expecting some kind of enemy to barge in our house this late of night? Dad! Don't overreact! I almost said out loud.

I peeked over the windows, seeing Dad open the gate to let Carl in. He's so not into joking. I went to the front porch, waiting for their little chatter to be over.

"I still don't approve of you both talking this late hour," Dad declared.

"But you will let us," I interjected.

He put both of his hands in the air and dropped them in defeat.

"What else could I possibly do? Just don't take it too long, Little Bitty."

"Copy that."

"I'll be watching," he whispered when he passed me before turning to the doors.

I complainingly groaned. "Oh, please Dad! No more James Bond schemes!"

He just shrugged and closed the screen doors, leavng the wooden door open. Sigh! Oh, dearest father. It's not like we'd do something unethical right here in your very front porch.

"What does 'no James Bond schemes' mean?" Carl asked.

I laughed and replied, "It means no spying or eavesdropping. He won't follow my orders anyway."

He just giggled while putting his hands in his jeans pocket.

"Hey!" I suddenly blurted.

"What? Scolding me again?" he mocked.

"No... I'm sorry about that, really."

"It's okay, I do understand PMS." He laughed and I punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"It's not that, alright! But before anything, you shouldn't be driving this time of the night. God knows how dangerous it is! And what about your grandmother?" I spatted.

"Hey, take it easy, alright? I just want to talk about what happened."

"Then you should have called," I said through gritted teeth.

He didn't reply and raised both of his hands in retreat. I groaned and huffed.

"This is not even the point why I wanna talk to you." I sat at the porch stairs, facing the concrete driveway and the iron gates with his scooter outside.

"So, what was that all about anyway?"

I explained to him everything starting from when I heard about Roger Concepcion on TV, how Mark didn't want me to hover over the matter and how I really wanted to know more that's why I went to ask Ares, a desperate and careless move it seems.