[https://i.ibb.co/WBjYk6Z/ch31.png]

The sun rays pierce through Carry's eyelids forcing her to get up from the couch, but a light headache that was throbbing on her head forced her to lay down again. She could not sleep anymore as she shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun. No longer being able to take it, she finally sat straight up and held her head. “Considering past hangovers, this one isn't so bad."

The knocking from the door might as well have been the roar of a jet engine as she covered her ears from the pain it elicited. “I'm coming!” she said loudly scurrying towards the door.

When she swung the door open, "What do you want!?" she asked aggravatingly toward a tall man wearing a suit on. Upon gazing at his stern and mature eyes and his strong stature, she calmed down. "Oh, hi. How are you doing?"

"Good evening. Are you Carry?"

"Yes, and who might you be, handsome?"

"Do you have a daughter named Lucy?"

"Uhh... yeah..."

"My name is Richard from the Department of Child Services. We got a report stating that you were seen yelling at your child in the hallway."

"What? No. That wasn't yelling."

"I was inquiring about this with your neighbors. Some of them said this was not an isolated report. Some even went as far to say that you are being neglectful."

"Hey, I'm just disciplining her. That's what a good mother does."

"According to my report, your daughter was holding on to you and you pushed her to the ground."

"I didn't do that yesterday."

"Did you do that prior?"

"Uhh... maybe... I don't remember. But I didn't hit her or anything, okay?"

"Is your daughter home?"

"Of course, but why do you want to know?"

"I would like to have a few words with her."

Carry was thrown off by this request, but seeing as there was nothing else she could do, "Alright, fine. I'll get her right now," and turned around.

"Lucy, come here for a minute. I promise you're not in trouble." She walked into the dining room where she noticed a plate with eggs, sausage, hash brown, and a glass of orange juice on the table. Surmising Lucy was in the kitchen, "There's someone here looking for you," but the kitchen was empty. She headed into Lucy's bedroom but simply looking from the doorway was enough to warrant it vacant. 'She's not here? Where is that girl? Oh no, I can't tell that officer she's not here, or I'll get in trouble and go to jail. I don't want to go to jail. I better think of a lie.'

Though her light headache made it difficult to think, a realization occurred to her. Returning to the doorway, "I forgot, she's visiting her father."

"Are you divorced?"

"Pretty much. You'll have to speak to my ex-husband about her."

"Can I have his number?"

"Sure. Let me give it to you."

She found a random piece of paper and scribbled a bit before handing it to Richard. “This one on top is his number for your records, and the one on the bottom is my number for... uh... you, ha ha ha.”

"I'll have a word with both your ex-husband and your daughter. Please be aware we take all reports seriously."

"But I'm not doing anything to her. These neighbors, they're just gossiping."

"Good day, ma'am."

With him taking his leave, she closed the door and exhaled with relief. “That was close. I almost went to jail because of that stupid kid. But thank goodness she was with her father. Finally, that good for nothing is useful. Might as well just stay with him at this point.” She headed towards the dining room table where the plate full of food was sitting, barely lukewarm, with a note underneath the glass of orange juice.

Microwave for a minute. -Lucy

Carrie looked at the plate of food for a moment before saying, “I dunno how to use the microwave. I'll just go to the rich people place and get me some breakfast there.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Plate and all, the meal laid out from Lucy for her mother went straight to the garbage bin.

–

'I knew this was going to happen,' Johan thought to himself. 'This was a mistake. I should have never returned to chatting with her. I now invoked something in her that made her believe it was okay to ask for another meetup.' He brushed his hair with his hand as he walked toward his desk and grabbed his phone, only to place it back after confirming that Lucy's message did not disappear. 'I told her that I can't see her anymore and I have to stick by it. I should stay away from her. It's for her own good. Her own good.' He paused for a moment before appending, “Her own good...”

He sat on the bed with his hand on his face rubbing his brow. “This has gone too far. What if someone finds out I'm talking to a kid? I'm going to get in trouble. For my own sake, I better put a stop to this. I have to do the right thing.”

On his phone, entering Google Chat, he began to type.

Lucy, please accept my apology but I have to be honest with you and myself. At the time, my only intention was to look back at the conversations we were having, only to get wrapped up in our chats once again. But despite the good time I've been having, I feel so guilty. This isn't right. I not only have to reject your invitation but stop communication altogether. This is wrong on so many levels and I can't risk both of our lives.

I shouldn't be hanging out with you both online or off. I'm sorry but this is the last time we'll be seeing each other.

His eyes veer toward Lucy's name and her offline status. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before hitting send. A waft of air escapes him as he dropped the phone onto the bed. “Why are decisions based on morality much more difficult compared to decisions based on vices? I guess that's the way of this crazy world and its asinine rules. Besides, none of this matters anymore. I have decided to move away. Far away. Away from the corrupt influences of the world.”

A strong aroma interrupted his thoughts, one of blueberries. Looking at his phone one last time, seeing Lucy still offline before the screen faded, he exited his room.

"Hey there, Johan." The stove was lively with activity as Wendy tossed eggs on a pan and sizzled sausages on another.

But the main attraction was steaming from a pot. "Is that blueberries?" Johan asked, pointing towards it.

"I'm making homemade blueberry syrup. You're not the only one who can look stuff up online, you know."

"I thought I was going to make breakfast from here on."

"No way, I'm not going to let you beat me, Johan. I'm going to be the star chef in this house, you hear me?" Wendy smiled and gave Johan a wink.

Johan laughed a bit, "Okay, fine with me."

With breakfast ready and the syrup poured into a mason jar, the table was set for Wendy's special breakfast. "Where did you get a mason jar with a spigot?" Johan asked.

“I found it in the thrift shop. That's what gave me the idea for the syrup. Go on, try some.”

He opens the valve and pours a bit on his pancakes. Once he closed the spigot tightly, he took a bite. With astonishment, "This is pretty good."

"Even better than what you can make?"

"I never made syrup before."

"Then I win, right?"

"You're going to have to let me make some before you announce yourself the winner."

"Then don't bother."

“Alright. I'll give you this one.”

Both laugh. “If you approve, then Francesca is definitely going to love it.”

“You're going to give her some?”

“Yeah, but I'll let her taste it tonight when she comes over.”

Johan paused a bit before he proceeded to cut another piece of his pancake. “Well, I'm sure she'll enjoy it.”

“What was that?” Wendy asked rather abruptly.

“What do you mean?”

“You paused for a moment.”

“Yes, I believe I did.”

“Yeah, you paused.”

A confused look was on Johan's face at the accusation and responded, “Okay.”

"It's only Francesca. Hera's not coming over."

“Alright, that's fine. I hope you two have fun.”

"I have a feeling you're not the romantic type, Johan."

Johan stared at Wendy with further confusion and some consternation. "Okay, if that's what you think."

Wendy put their fork down. “I don't want to bring up our near-death experience again, but something has been bothering me, and it's your attitude.”

“Well, if you don't want to bring it up, then don't.”

“But I'm worried about you, Johan. This isn't just about the car accident, but the cause of it. I know what happened. I saw you before Francesca yelled. You saw them kissing, right? That must have triggered you.”

“I don't get 'triggered'. I don't even like that word.”

“But it's true. That's what happened. You saw it happening in the back of your car and you looked so angry. Johan, do you want to tell me what is going on with you?”

Johan put his fork down. “Here I thought I was going to forget my troubles and have a nice breakfast.”

“What is troubling you? Why don't you tell me?”

“How about you mind your own business? You're always in my face.”

“Can you at least join us tonight?”

“No.”

“What good reason do you have to decline?”

“I just said to mind your own business.”

“I wish it was, then we can have a chat.”

“No. No more chats. Chats are the reason for my- ” Johan got up from his seat. “I'm not interested, okay? Just accept that. I'm going to get ready for classes.”

Johan started heading toward his room when he heard, “Is it me?” which prompted him to stop.

“What about you?”

“Well, ever since high school, when I came out...”

“No, Edwin. This has nothing to do with that. Besides, I do support your change. I haven't mentioned it, but I'd figured you know that I... uhh... care.”

“Do you really? Because it doesn't sound like you do.”

“Look, you can do whatever you want. My opinions do not matter. Even if I was against it, so what? You can still do you. So go ahead and do whatever it is... that you do.”

Johan continued toward the bedroom door but not before hearing, “What about the dreams?”

“Excuse me,” he said as he turned around.

“Are you still having those dreams?”

“That was weeks ago.”

“But are you still having them?”

“It doesn't matter anymore. That's in the past. Besides, I did the right thing. It's over. I'm done.”

“You're done with what?”

After realizing what he said, Johan cleared his throat. “Nothing important. Just know that those dreams are over, and so am I.” With all that said, he finally entered his room and locked the door behind him.

He groaned as he leaned on his desk. 'I wish he would shut up at times.' His eyes immediately target the phone on his bed. His hand hovered over it but he pulled it before he could have a chance to grasp it, forming a fist instead. Scrunching his eyes, looking to his side, and releasing a sigh, he picked up the phone, went into Google Chat, confirmed his message was still unread and tossed the phone back into the bed.

Going up to the window, he leaned against the wall to watch pass him by. “This world hates me so much.”