The Unknown

Ch. 4 - Mahito

It took you a while to get home considering you followed the dumbass all the way home on the other side of town.
By the time you stepped in the door, your mother had made it home - something that didn't usually happen.

"Hey sweetie," she greeted happily, her positivity just radiating as she prepared dinner for you both. You threw your backpack onto one of the chairs that sat at the breakfast table and plopped into the open seat next to it. "What were you up to so late? Usually you beat me!"

"Oh...I had to make sure a...friend...got home safe," you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose from the headache that came on - stress no thanks to said friend.

"Is it that boy?" She twisted her body from in front of the stove to look at you.

"What boy, Mom?" You sighed, looking over at her and her devilish smile.

"You know, that boy you got the sweater from! I'm not blind!" She giggled. Mahito! That's it!

"Oh! Yeah...I guess I do have a date for the wedding," you began your cover story.

"I see, who might that be?" She wondered, turning her attention back to the pan to make sure she wouldn't burn whatever it was that was in it.

"Mahito," you said simply, pulling your phone out of your pocket to scroll through social media.

"Oh," she sounded slightly disappointed, "I thought it was some mystery man. I thought you didn't like Mahito that way."

"Things...change," you hated how far you were getting yourself into this mess, "it hasn't been long but I figure giving him a shot wouldn't hurt." You somehow found yourself contemplating that genuinely.

"Well, it's something!" Your mother didn't sound very impressed with your decision in partners but shrugged it off. "As long as he manages to look nice and doesn't show up in what he's usually in. Those damn rags...you'd think his parents would take care of that."

"I mean, he's grown. He can choose what he wants to wear, it just so happens to be torn up t-shirts and jeans. I'll make him wear a suit," you chuckled at your mother's frustration. "I have to call that friend I mentioned, make sure they're alright."

"Alright, dinner's in about twenty," she called to you as you exited the room to head upstairs.

You dialed the number as you marched up the staircase. The phone rang and rang in your hands until it went to a voicemail - a voicemail that hadn't even been set up yet.

"Ugh..." you vocalized to yourself, plopping down on the edge of your bed. You decided to text him instead.

Answer your damn phone, dumbass

You sat and stared at your phone for a few minutes but a reply never came. You didn't want it to, but it made you slightly worried. What if he overdoses? Is someone there to help him if he does?

As you got undressed and into something more comfortable for the evening, your phone dinged.

No~

Even with it just being a stupid text you could hear the sass that poured from it. With him finally responding, you dialed the number.

"What do you want, princess?" He teased, answering the phone after two rings.

"I thought you were dead," you scolded, sitting on your bed once more after changing.

"Can't get rid of me that easy," he chuckled, his voice sounding lowly melodic even over the static of the phone.

"Yeah, yeah," you rolled your eyes as if he were standing in front of you, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Sounds like something else to me," he continued taunting, which forced a growl to emit from your throat. He gave his own amused sound in response.

"I didn't know if someone was home to watch you!" You argued, feeling your face heat up from the frustration.

"My little brother's here," he said plainly. There was a moment of awkward silence between you both. "Thanks...for checking in," he mumbled as if what he said would hurt his pride.

"You're welcome," you snapped with a bit of an attitude, "we're still on for this Saturday, right?"

"Sure," he answered, voice returning to its normal volume.

"Great, see you then...dick," you sassed before pressing your finger to the red circle. "Fuck...what an ass," you sighed to yourself, falling back on your mattress for a moment of peace - at least until your mother shouted up the stairs for dinner a few seconds later.