Childish

<>

"So, how'd it go?" Nicole asked as she placed her bag on the dining table and plopped down on the couch.

"Good," I said, distracted.

"Just good?"

"Yeah, just good." I switched the channels.

"Nothing interesting?"

"Nah."

"What do you think I was asking you, Charles?"

"Is there nothing interesting on t.v?"

She was silent. Eerily silent. After a few seconds, I turned to see she was crossing her arms and glaring at me.

"What?"

Nothing.

"Nicole?"

Still, nothing.

"Nic?"

Still, nothing.

Just a glare that could kill millions of lives if it could kill.

"Okay, fine." I threw my hands up in the air and managing to break the remote control in the meantime. "What were you saying?"

"Promise me, you will not sound distracted again?"

I examined my remote in horror. There was a small crack at the top and seeing that, my heart rate increase to a hundred beats per minute. Oh god! Oh god! Oh god! Please work! Please work!

I was repeating the chant in my head over and over again as I frantically pressed a few buttons to check if there was any major damage. I walked closer to the t.v to check it. I had not even realized that Nicole asked me something.

"Charles?"

Nothing. Just frantic pressing.

"Charlie?"

Still panicking.

"Charles Annabeth Robinson!" She jumped from her seat and snatched the remote from my hand. My gaze quickly shifted to the fuming lady who had snatched my remote just a few minutes ago.

"What?!" I asked, exasperated.

"We need to talk."

---

"What did I do?" I whined, pouting as I sat cross-legged on my bed. She shut the door and faced me, crossing her arms against her chest. She shot me a glare.

"WHAT DID YOU DO? Do you want a list of the things you did wrong, starting from just ten minutes ago?"

"In my defense, my remote control broke!"

"That is not important! I've been asking you about something and all you're giving me is one-word sentences!"

"A lot is on my head!" I snapped.

"Like what?"

"Like...how you're going to pay for that remote. Or, better yet, buy me a new one!"

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Why would I buy you a new one?"

Without missing a beat, I replied. "Because it's your fault it broke."

"MY FAULT?! How is it my fault? You're the one who's at fault! If you didn't give me one-word answers then nothing like this would happen!" She yelled.

Silence.

A couple of minutes later,

"Why are we even yelling at each other?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "I don't know. A lot's going on."

"Like?" I smirked, thinking that this was a repeat of what just happened.

She pointed a finger at me. "Now don't you dare start this again!"

We both broke out in laughter. It was strange how we fought over the stupidest things possible and then realized it a couple of minutes or hours after we'd fought. When we fought, it was like both of us were kids all over again. Every time we laughed, I always wondered why I hadn't found her when I was a kid. Life would've been so much easier.

Knowing her, she would've been by my side when mom died.

Just like how she was when my dad's in the hospital.

"Now, now, now that we've established that a lot has been going on in both of our lives, let's start with who goes first."

"You start." We both offered in unison.

I smiled. "Go on, let's hear it."

"It's okay, Charlie. You have important things going on."

"Not as important as yours." I retorted.

"Okay, well..where do I even start from?" She plopped down on the bed, beside me.

"From the beginning, duh."

She smacked my arm. "I'm serious, Charlie!"

"Okay, okay," I raised my arms in defense. "Wherever you want from."

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"I met James McCrae."

---

"Why did the background change all of a sudden? Weren't we in my room?" I asked, looking around the darkroom which consisted of only a table and two chairs.

"Sounds like an interrogation to me."

I rubbed my hands in excitement. "Ooh, this is gonna be fun!"

She stepped back. "Fun..how?"

I twirled on my heel, mimicking I was shooting criminals with my finger-gun and searching for evidence.

"FBI style!"

"Oh, crap."

---

"So, Jackass McCrae, huh? How did you meet him?" I propped my elbow on the table on leaned closer to Nicole.

"FYI, FBI's don't call people names."

I slammed my palm on the table. "Answer the goddamned question, woman! I do not ask twice."

"Now, now, you just sound like a threatening Francine."

I glared at her.

She sheepishly smiled. "Okay, well..where do I even start?"

All of a sudden, my phone rang.

"Gimme a sec...Hello?"

"We need to meet."