I stormed back into the house, shoulders dragging like I was carrying the weight of the world—or at least a ton of laundry.
My eyes darted around like a ninja on a mission.
I glanced at Mark, who was grinning so widely I was convinced he had just swallowed a dozen lemons, then at Ethan, who was pretending he didn't even see me—classic Ethan, the master of invisibility.
"So, uh… what do we do now?" I asked, voice dripping with dramatic despair, like I was about to face a dragon or something equally terrifying.
Mark, in his infinite wisdom, responded with a whisper so soft it sounded like he was afraid of scaring the furniture. "I'm kinda hungry."
I rolled my eyes so hard I thought I'd give myself a headache.
"Come on, Mark. I'll go get us some snacks. Ethan can stay here… probably hiding from us," I added, eyeing him suspiciously.
Mark nodded like he'd just been handed the keys to the universe.
He got up with the grace of a cat on a hot tin roof and headed straight for the kitchen.
Inside, I opened a cabinet with the flair of a treasure hunter and grabbed some chips—because nothing says heroism like snack food.
Then I swung open the fridge and emerged with a drink that looked like it had survived the apocalypse. I handed the snacks to Mark with a flourish.
"Here, Mark. Enjoy your royal feast."
He snatched it from my hands like a king claiming his throne and started munching so loudly I swear I heard the chips filing a noise complaint.
"So, how's school?" Mark asked, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.
I nodded as if I'd asked the secret to eternal youth.
"It's good. You're basically making my life more interesting—like a never-ending episode of chaos."
Mark raised an eyebrow so high I thought it might fly off my face. "Oh really? Is it all of us, or…?" I leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially.
"Or just me?"
My eyes twinkled mischievously as I watch him smirked. "Ah… yeah. You all make it super annoying."
Mark leaned back, popping a chip into his mouth like he was auditioning for a snack commercial.
And just as I was about to respond, we suddenly heard a scream—no, a scream so epic it could wake the dead, shatter windows, and probably cause a small earthquake.
I shot a glance at Mark, and he shot one right back at me.
It was like a secret code: What was that?
I kept munching my chips, trying to act all cool and unbothered.
"Let's find out," I whispered, voice low and dramatic, like I was about to uncover the mysteries of the universe.
We tiptoed out of the kitchen, moving like stealthy ninjas on a mission.
When we peeked into the living room, we saw Ethan—hilariously over-the-top—sitting on the couch, pointing wildly at a stick he somehow managed to find in the middle of the chaos.
I don't even know where he got it or why he was holding it—probably auditioning for a role in the next zombie apocalypse.
"Ethan! What's wrong? Why are you shouting? And… why are you holding a stick?" I asked, trying not to burst into laughter.
Ethan glanced at us with wide, panicked eyes, then shook his head like he was in a soap opera.
"Please, guys… there's a cockroach hiding beneath the carpet," he said dramatically, voice trembling like he was about to be eaten alive.
Suddenly, Ethan paused, dusted himself off with a flourish, and straightened up like a soldier going into battle.
"I mean, I'm not scared of the cockroach," he declared, voice trembling with faux bravado.
"I was just worried you're scared of the cockroach."
He cleared his throat so dramatically I thought he'd start singing the national anthem.
I couldn't help but giggle. "Ethan, you're not so tough after all, It's cute" I whispered, trying to hold back my laughter.
Ethan sighed, dramatically clutching his chest like he'd just been betrayed.
"Just get it out of here… I… I… am sick of this," he said, hiding behind Mark like the cockroach was the size of Godzilla.
I reached out and grabbed the stick like I was about to wield Excalibur. This was about to get epic.
"Coakrochie... coakroachie..." I whispered, inching closer to the carpet like I was about to uncover a hidden treasure.
With a dramatic flourish, I lifted it up—and behold! There was a cockroach, as big as my thumb, maybe even bigger—like a tiny dinosaur from the prehistoric era.
The moment it was set free, that little beast went full speed ahead, sprinting like it was late for a cockroach convention.
Ethan let out another shriek so high-pitched I thought a siren was blaring. He hopped onto his Mark's back, clutching it like it was his last refuge.
"He's coming for me! Get him here! He's right—there—" Ethan yelled a long side him Mark, bouncing up and down like he was auditioning for a comedy skit.
I was too busy laughing hysterically, chasing the tiny terror up and down the room, giggling like a maniac.
Meanwhile, Mark was holding Ethan tightly, bouncing like a human trampoline, as Ethan flailed and tried to escape.
It was a scene so chaotic that even Hollywood would call it a blockbuster.
The cockroach, clearly exhausted from its epic escape attempt, decided to help us out and charged straight at me as if it thought I was its new best friend.
Without hesitation, I swung my mighty stick and SMACK!—crushing the poor little bug like it was a villain in a superhero movie.
Ethan immediately dropped down from Mark's back, looking like he'd just survived a war.
I set the stick aside with a dramatic sigh and looked at Ethan.
"Are you satisfied now? You're not scared of goons, but a cockroach is your nemesis?"
Mark chuckled, too, cracking a smile that stretched from ear to ear.
"This is the Ethan I know—so energetic and fun," he said, playfully pulling Ethan's cheek like he was a puppy.
Ethan, clearly not a fan of being treated like a stuffed animal, grimaced and said.
"My fun side is bad—that's why I left it behind. And you know that, Mark." His voice was low, serious, like he was about to deliver an epic speech.
"I know," Mark replied with a grin.
Ethan nodded solemnly, then marched off toward the bathroom, probably to wash off the trauma.
I glanced at Mark, who was staring down at the floor, lost in thought.
"What happened? We were happy and giggling just a second ago," I asked, trying to make sense of the chaos.
Mark shook his head slowly. "And it will stay that way," he said mysteriously, picking up the stick like a sword. "Run from me, if you can, Ayana."