Melabee paced around the spacious, empty living room, her phone pressed to her ear.
"C'mon, cmon," she pleaded as the line kept on ringing.
"The number you have dialed is not-"
Melabee cut off the automatic response message and jammed in her mother's phone number for the umpteenth time. Frustration made her fingers shaky and clammy causing her to press the wrong button accidentally which only fueled her irritation. Where were her parents? It had been passed two weeks after they had called the last time and yet they were nowhere in sight.
"The number you have dialed is not available. Please leave a message after the tone."
"Hey mom, I've called and left messages for about twenty times now. I'm getting really worried. Did something happen? Please call me back. Love you."
Before Melabee could once again punch in her mother's phone number, the chime of the doorbell intervened. Hastily, she made her way to open the front door.
"Why weren't you at school today?" Max questioned the same time Ellie asked, "What's wrong, Mel?"
"My parents were supposed to be home yesterday but they're not and I've been calling and calling but they aren't answering," Mel gushed out. "I think something might have happened to them."
"Alright, Mel, calm down okay?" Max said in a reassuring tone. "I'm sure they're on their way home. Maybe their flight got delayed and now they're still on the plane and the clouds are jamming their connection or something."
Melabee considered this and calmed down for a bit. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe you're right."
"Let's just go sit down for now," Max said carefully. Her pale-faced friend nodded and the two made their way to the living room.
"You want something to eat?" Ellie asked, making his way towards the fridge.
"No I'm okay, Ellie," Melabee answered.
"I'll have a ham sandwich," Max told Ellie. "And some orange juice."
Ellie replied with a sigh but took out a the ingredients anyway.
"So Xander sort of asked for you today," Max said, turning to Melabee.
"Sort of?" Melabee asked in confusion.
"Yeah, he didn't say anything. He just kept glancing at us when we were eating."
"That's creepy," Melabee commented.
"In a non-creepy way," Max defended.
"From the way you say it, it's creepy."
"True. I'm not the best story-teller."
"No, you're really not," Ellie agreed from the kitchen. "You just tell it the way it is. There's no sugar coating or chocolate dipping."
"Go stuff your face, Eliot," Max responded.
"I'd be careful with that tone. I'm the one making your food," Ellie said.
"Kindly stuff your face, Sir Eliot."
"Max, look here!"
As Max turned her face towards Ellie's direction, her face was met with a thin slice of ham.
"Clean up after yourselves," Melabee announced, getting up to leave her two friends alone, not wanting to get involved in their food fight.
She made her way to her room and checked her email. There were messages from her teachers containing the homework she missed. She groaned as she opened first Mr. Cleaver's email that read:
