This part contains a conversation spoken in a foreign language (Spanish). If you don't understand, the same conversation is found directly below the Spanish version in English (in blue text). ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Story Time! Part 3 Camila braced herself. Hurricane Mom approached her at a breakneck pace. It would've been a much better idea for him to have come during the weekday, because then she'd only have to deal with her father, who's far less uptight when it came to strangers. "¿Adonde estabas?" Her mother confronted her, as she predicted, at the front entryway, standing on top of the three stairs leading to the sitting room, barefoot on the cream colored carpet, with her usual bright green towel on her shoulder, small and grouchy as ever. "Comiendo lonche." Camila replied casually, her mother's equally natural tone making her all the more nervous, "Debís de hablar me cuando vas hacer algo así." "Esta bien, voy hacerlo." "Con quien estabas?" "Ah...Mami...about that..." Camila said, the tone of her voice immediately giving her away. "¿Qué hesité niña?" She responded immediately, her face ever suspicious, "Yo no hice absolutamente nada." "Mm hm." Her mother rose a single eyebrow. Camila's mouth twisted. "Yo solo traigo un amigo de ah...de escuela." The lie sounded feeble, even to her. "Y porque?" "Sólo porque quería." she shrugged, and under her mother's scrutinizing gaze, admits, "El quería venir. No puedia decirle no." "Pues debías a hablar con me primero. ¡Mira me, mira esta casa, no puedemos tener compañía!" Her mother fretted, but Camila could tell that she was not particularly peeved. "Don't worry about it, Ma." "...Es guapo?" "¡MAMI! Sólo es un amigo." Camila huffed "Sólo estaba preguntando. ¿Como se llama?" "Nick." "¿Pues adonde esta?" "En el caro, seguramente muriendo de el calor." "Pues tráigalo. Yo sí voy a dejarte hacerme esto solo este único tiempo; sí lo haces otra ves, te voy a pegar como un bicho, no me importa sí estas cuatro o veinte-dos." She threatens, but her daughter pays no mind to this. "¡Ay, gracias Mami!" "Te confió en ti, mi hija." Her mother admitted grudgingly. Her daughter was not a particularly deceptive person, though she had her moments. Camila braces herself. Hurricane Mom approaches her at a breakneck pace. It would've been a much better idea for him to have come during the weekday, because then she'd only have to deal with her father, who was far less uptight when it came to strangers. "Where were you?" Her mother confronts her, as she predicted, at the front entryway, standing on top of the three stairs leading to the sitting room, barefoot on the cream colored carpet, with her usual bright green towel on her shoulder, small and grouchy as ever. "Eating lunch." Camila replies casually, her mother's equally natural tone making her all the more nervous, "You should call me when you leave." "Okay I'll do it next time." "Who were you with?" "Ah...Mami...about that..." Camila says, the tone of her voice immediately giving her away. "What did you do, girl?" She says, her face ever suspicious, "I have done absolutely nothing." "Mm hm." Her mother rose a single eyebrow. Camila's mouth twists. "I just brought a friend from...school." The excuse sounds feeble even to her. "Why?" "Because I wanted to." she shrugs, and under her mother's scrutinizing gaze, she admits, "He wanted to come. I couldn't tell him no." "You should call me first. ¡Look at me, look at this house, we can't have company!" Her mother frets, but Camila can tell that she is not particularly peeved. "Don't worry about it, Ma." "...is he cute?" "¡MAMI! He's just a friend." Camila huffs, "I was just asking. What's his name?" "Nick." "¿Where is he?" "In the car, probably dying from the heat." "Then bring him. I'll let you do this to me once; if you do it again, I'll hit you like a little kid, I don't care if you're four or twenty two." She threatens, but her daughter pays no mind to this. "Thanks Mami!" "I trust you." Her mother admits grudgingly. Their daughter was not a particularly deceptive person, though she had her moments. Camila is quick to bring Nick, who was indeed dying, but had the good sense to get out of the car before he and the leather seat melded together. "What'd she say?" Eager blue eyes, actually rather anxious, stared at the doorway. "She said you can come in. Thank sweet baby Jesus." "...I've never heard that term before." Nick tilted his head, feeling the sun beating down on his poor, poor neck. "I don't know where it came from." She stood there a bit longer, rocking back and forth on her heels, waiting. "Ah...she likes flowers, doesn't she?" Nick comments, hoping to break the awkward silence as they stand on the melting pavement. "Loves 'em. They're everywhere. Let's go inside, eh?" Camila responded, though she's very used to this kind of heat, having lived here for years. "I'm not sure I'm ready. Give me a minute." He closed his eyes and murmurs something quickly. "Okay. My body is ready." He opened his eyes, steeling himself for inevitable doom by small Hispanic lady. "Hello, Mrs. Flo- I mean, Raudales." He caught himself. He almost forgot; Camila and her mom have different names. Mrs. Raudales smiled at him rather benignly. She wore a small amount of makeup, a large, loose fitting shirt, and wire rimmed glasses, much like her daughter. "Hello Nick, it's nice to meet you." Her accent is thick but he is still able to understand her well enough. "Mom, this is my friend Nick, Nick, my mom." Camila is quick with the introduction. "Come, sit." Her mother says, gesturing at the living room with the TV. "Oh, okay. Should I take off my shoes?" "No, don't bother. It's tile." Camila waved her hand and bounced off into the room. Nick followed her, catching up quickly with the shorter person, who'd taken a seat on the long part of the dark L-shaped couch, which took up a minimal amount of space with how big the room felt. Camila's mother quickly ran through the list of pleasantries; parents, school, do you want anything, what do you want to do in life, all while speaking fair English. Her daughter was surprised that she is putting so much effort into this, she was obviously in the middle of her cooking. The TV, which blared loud Spanish soap operas, keeps Camila from interfering. Nick liked her. He always knew he would. She was so much like her daughter, with the way they looked and the way they acted around strangers. He'd seen it with the waitress; kind, quiet, not at all the person he knew. But then again, her here is also very odd. She's louder, funnier and less well spoken. He wonders if he is any different for her, personality-wise, if he seems odd, or off. Being the self-conscious person he was, this will bug him. Mother finally finished with her pleasantries and excused herself. Camila is fine with that. "What's this even about?" He asked, bewildered as he watches with her. "Um...I think that guy cheated on that girl and now the other guy and the first guy are talking about business stuff and she looks pretty nervous, so they both don't know. I'm just guessing." She tried not to sound conspicuous, "Guessing...yeah." He put quotation marks around guessing. "Hey, you watch all of those TV crime series, don't be a Judgy-McJudgerson." She pointed out, "We'll I-" he is cut off by a prepubescent boy walking into the room and standing in front of the TV. "Hey Cam, who's you're friend you got there?" He asked, a seedy smile on his face. "None of your business, Anthony." Camila replied sharply, "Now move, before I shank you." She held up the remote threateningly. He movies about a quarter inch. It's an actual Mexican standoff. Nick thought, and then tried his hardest not to burst out laughing at his own joke. ~~~~~~~~~~~ A RoyQin© Story. This update was written by Qin... Because I have been far too lazy and distraught to do it myself, and I think I made her fall in love with the idea of the story.
Aha. I got a little screwy there because I was writing in present tense and the story is in past tense so I quickly revised it xD I also had some grammatical mistakes in the Spanish because I'm not a pro.
Hmmm very good it seems I was wrong when I thought that you just criticized I must apologize you are an impressive writer I want notification
Story Time! Part 4 "Brother of mine, if you want to keep your head, I suggest you go now, or forever face my wrath." Her eyes squinted in a menacing fashion. "You're all talk." Her brother retorted, smile as wide as possible. It was clear that he enjoyed this very much. "Oh yeah?" "Yeah." He stuck out his plucky chest. He was tall and thin, while his sister was petite, almost heavyset, but not quite there. "Camila, stop fighting with your brother." Mother, although in the hallway of the second floor, had the hearing of a hawk. "But mom! He's clearly antagonizing me-" "I find that this argument is completely gratuitous and overdone." "...the vocabulary of this household..." Nick murmured. It was pretty obvious that Camila had shoved her mind dictionary down her younger brother's throat. "Child, I am this close to smacking you upside the head." "Just tell me who your friend is!" He protested, obviously tired of this back and forth, which Nick knew from experience, that she could keep up for hours. "...this is Nick. He attends my college." "Huh, you seem a bit old for my sister." Anthony addressed her again. "Since when were you a Lolita?" "You're very aware that he's only my friend, young grasshopper. Do not tempt me." Camila said, tapping the side of her glasses, looking much like some sort of librarian or teacher. "How old are you?" "I'm twenty-one." "What are you studying to be?" Camila sighed inwardly. She had always understood this about her mother; she would not dig deep on the initial visit. Anthony, her brother, had none of her reserve. "I'm hoping to become a psychologist. I'm earning a degree in sociology." "How do you know my sister?" "We're in the same philosophy class." "Whe-" "Anthony, haven't you grilled the poor man enough?" Mother interrupted as she walked into the room, spray bottle in hand, to care for the multiple plants taking up the spaces right in front of the windows, making shadows on the blinding tile. "But mom! He could be a serial killer for all we know." "Your sister can handle herself." He grumpily strode over to his mother, "Mom!" "No preocupas, vamos a darlo para comer, y luego, nos atacamos." She muttered to him, to which he rubbed his hands together in anticipation, much like a fly. Camila stared at her fly brother, along with Nick. They weren't too far away, and she could tell that they had hatched one of their ingenious master plans. This could not be good. It is never good. "Mom, can we please go upstairs?" She sounded desperate, "To your room?" Her mother again sounded dubious, "Mom, I'm an adult." "You're not an adult till you're twenty-seven." "Ever since she got that tablet," she tells Nick, "she's always googling things. Luckily though, she trusts Wikepedia." "Everybody uses Wikepedia." "I know. But if they say something is a rare form of disease, and you can prevent it by dancing like a chicken, you bet your ass that she'll be doing it every morning." She turns back to her mother, "Please, mom?" "Okay. You're a good kid, I hope that I can trust you as much as I do." "C'mon." She tells Nick as she bounced up the stairs leading to the kitchen, sliding through it with her socks after she carelessly kicked off her shoes in the living room, almost running into the dining table, and skipped all the way up to her bedroom at the end of the hallway. Nick followed at a more decent walking pace, deciding to leave his own shoes neatly at the entryway, as not to get the carpet dirty. He wondered where it is she got all of this energy from. Her room is similar to how he remembered her describing it. Small with relatively plain walls, mismatched furniture, dark blue bedding, aquarium housing a rather grumpy gerbil named Fitz on top of the dresser, and the most important thing, her desktop computer. Books littered the floor, stuffed on every available surface, even balancing rather precariously on the gerbil's cage. What little was on her walls were old news articles pinned to a cork board beside her computer, and a black and white poster of a clarinet. This room positively screamed Camila, in every sense. Nick immediately made himself comfortable on her bed, stretching out and propping his head up with her pillow. Camila sat in the computer chair and did her customary spin. "So how long are you staying?" "I planned for about a week. My parents think I'm out here soul searching, or something like that." "Oh!" Camila sat upright, "I forgot to tell-" "Cammykins! I'm home!" A familiar, high pitched voice comes from the doorway. "I thought she was-" "I guess she got back." "CAMILA! Genie is here!" Translation for the Spanish: "Don't worry, we'll feed him first, and then we'll attack." ~~~~~~~~~~~~ A RoyQin© story. *Qin and I will be writing this as a sort of collaboration from here on out. It'll be nice to write something that isn't an incestuous romance with her. As always, if you want to be informed of updates, just say so.
Story Time! Part 5 Genie is quick to shower everyone and everything with attention and affection. Mrs. Raudales long gave up trying to calm the girl down, or get her to call first before visiting, and simply allowed the enthusiastic girl to have free reign. Anthony avoided the girl like the plague, quickly departing to the safety of his bedroom. Having been Camila's friend for an endless amount of time, or at least since she'd moved to live with her cousin, Mark, and his boyfriend Jordan, roughly six years ago. Camila, being a year older than her, had been walking home as she saw a girl, a little younger than her, muttering to a dead bird as she buried it under a hedge, and the rest had been history. Camila ran downstairs, to see Genie attached to her mother in a side hug, and mother patting her hand, very used to these kinds of hugs from this girl. "I missed you so much." "I know." "You're like...a mom to me." "I know." "You have the best cooking ever." "I've been told." "Can I go bother Cam?" "Yes, yes, I do have to get back to cooking." "YOU'RE THE BEST, ALBERTINA." She gave her a kiss on the cheek, and scurried up the stairs to a waiting Camila. "...there's a man on your bed." Genie commented mildly as Camila stood between her and her bedroom. "Yes, yes there is." Camila said, arms crossed, position tense. She could not tell if Genie was in a good mood or a bad mood, which meant the difference between life and death for Nick. "Oh good, I thought I was seeing things for a moment. Hello, darling!" Genie flapped her hand at him, somewhat resembling a wave, but not quite. "This is Nick." Camila said, walking into her bedroom. "You mean from the Internet?" "Yes, from the Internet." "OH MY GOD NICKY!" Genie squealed and pounced onto him. "Ouch!" He grunted as she landed soundly on his small intestine. She beamed at him as she bounced happily, "I didn't expect you to actually...make the effort to come here." "Well I didn't expect you to be home. Can you please get off of me? You're crushing my internal organs." "Nick! I am offended!" She stopped bouncing and stared him down, "Did you not want to see me? Did you want to avoid me? Did you or did you not want this Asian booty?" She narrowed her eyes. "Um..." Nick paled. He was not very used to this kind of treatment in real life. He could see Camila laughing so hard, tears streaming from her eyes. "Because if you did...I would have to kill you, perhaps with my iron thighs." "Pfft. I could crush you." Nick replied, a sudden burst of confidence surging through him. "Oh god. Not the man titties!" She fell off of Camila's bed in horror. Camila just laughed harder. "You're just jealous they're bigger than yours." He replied, sitting up, then wincing ever so slightly from when Genie's knee connected with his gut. "I know. They're just so...floppy. You need a bra, girl." "Girl, I know, but they don't have any in my size." "Oh my." Camila lifted her glasses to wipe tears from her eyes. Mrs. Raudales wondered if the ceiling would fall down. Every time Genie visited, she became less and less sure of the strength of the second floor. She was aware that she should probably go check on them, to see if anyone had potentially broken a limb, but decided against it, for her own health. Anthony sat in a dark corner of his room, bat in hand, in case of a Genie attack. He would be ready. He was always ready. Genie situated herself in a nest made from Camila's blankets on the floor, with Fitz the gerbil sniffing around on her hand. He was a finicky little creature, only taking to some people, and mauling the others... or pooping in their hand. He was very nice to Genie, content to sit in her palm and purr as a gerbil could. Nick was revolted at the idea of touching him, and therefor sat as far away as possible from him, huddled in the corner of the stripped down bed. Camila and Genie talked about her trip back home to the motherland, while he sort've watched them. He added some jokes or racial slurs to the conversation, but mostly thought. What would they do all week? The girls had time off of school, he was as free as a bird, what adventures awaited them? He wouldn't wait very long. "Dinner's ready! And Dad's home!" A voice called up to them, to which Genie abruptly stood up, and Fitz was momentarily airborne with the speed at which she did this. Quickly, he was plopped unceremoniously into his cage, and Genie rushed downstairs, without a word. "Um...?" "She loves my dad." Camila and Nick could hear the two from her room. "MR. RAUDALES!" "Hey! Wait! I need to-" he was cut off by a bear hug. "But, for the record, he's a pretty awesome guy. Brace yourself, though. I've never brought a male person home." Camila walked downstairs cheerfully, eager to greet her old man. But something held Nick back. He's not sure what, but it was something. A sense of apprehension, that something was very wrong...that there was something...afoot. "JOHNNY!" He heard Camila shout, and decided to brave dinner with the Raudales'.