"Luke, didn't you say you overslept?"
When I said this, Luke looked at me with surprise, as if I had revealed a big secret. Then he put the pen down on the notebook and started scratching the side of his nose.
"Yeah. you're right. I forgot." He said while he reached into his bag and took out his math book.
At that moment, someone knocked on the classroom door unexpectedly, and a student entered.
"Sir, the school principal is calling Luke," the student addressed the teacher as soon as he entered.
Luke stood up, waiting for the teacher's response.
"You can go, Luke." He said.
After getting the teacher's permission, Luke left the classroom with the student.
Luke was not our class representative so, him being called was unusual. But something more surprising was that it was the last time I saw Luke that day.
The rest of the classes went normally, and I did well on the test. To be fair, the teacher had prepared way more test sheets than the number of students in the class. I didn't know anymore how normal any of this was. I don't even talk about my classmates' responses to why they were late.
Some of them said they got lost while others said they just overslept. It didn't make sense because I know them all. This happening all at the same time is like winning the lottery, which is 1 in 13983816 chances.
Maybe not that much but still, it is still rare that everything lines up in one day.
But throughout the day, I witnessed so many strange things that they started to feel normal. The bathroom incident, the second shoe mystery, my mom forgetting things, the deleted call from the phone, students suddenly being late to class, Luke's lie. These weren't even big issues to dwell on. I was okay with it.
Other than one thing. What was that hand on my shoulder? Where did it come from? Even thinking about it now makes my hair stand on end.
After classes ended, I packed my bag. No matter how weird the day was, today is Friday. Which means I don't have to do homework. I hurriedly packed up and left school. I started thinking about what to do with rest of my day.
I could go home and play games or play soccer in the neighborhood. Plus, my girlfriend was busy today. She was going to her relative's house so, we planned to meet tomorrow morning. I was free today.
As I was thinking about this, a hand suddenly touched my right shoulder. Again. Terrified by what happened earlier that morning, I immediately tried to pull away, to escape whoever or whatever was touching me. My heart started racing, and my breathing quickened. I was breathing so fast that my mouth involuntarily opened. My eyes widened and I couldn't close my eyelids—they seemed to be fleeing from each other. I knew it was just my imagination, but everything felt slowed down, as if time had stopped.
I couldn't move. My legs refused to take a step. Fear made movement difficult.
Clenching my teeth, I tried to step forward when I heard a voice.
"Daniel, let's go to the PlayStation Club," the voice said.
It was Jack. My close friend. He lived in the same neighborhood, which explains why he'd come all the way to the front of our building.
Hearing his voice calmed me a little. I slowly turned to my right, and seeing that it was him, I felt a wave of relief. My heartbeat began to slow, and I tried to breathe steadily.
"What's wrong? Why are you nervous?" he said.
After a few weird seconds of staring, he continued.
"Don't tell me you are scared to lose that much." Jack joked. He tried, but I didn't fully grasp what he meant. I don't know if it was because of my earlier fear or the pointlessness of the joke. But I knew this fear wouldn't leave me alone for a while.
"Let me eat lunch first. Meet me in the neighborhood in an hour, and we'll see who loses," I said, trying to pull myself together.
"Okay," Jack replied, raising his hand as if waving goodbye, then started walking toward his building.
I slowly approached my building and went up to our floor. Since I had my key, I opened the door and entered.
"I'm home," I called out.
"Welcome. Go wash your hands and change. We're eating." My mom called from the kitchen.
"Come quickly, I'm leaving with your sister in half an hour," she added.
"Coming. I'm leaving too, anyway."
I went to my room, changed clothes, then went to the bathroom to wash my hands. At that moment, I remembered what happened earlier that morning. I quickly washed my hands and opened the cabinet next to the mirror. The toothpaste or its box wasn't there. I checked the cup where we kept our toothbrushes and toothpaste. Everything was in order. If everything was fine, what was that earlier incident?
Since I was leaving the house, I didn't put my shoes on the shelf, so I didn't even check if my dad's shoes were there. But there was no need anymore. I must've been mistaken. Either I wasn't myself, or I'd experienced a momentary glitch. All I had to do was forget these things and move on with my life.
After closing the cabinet door, I left the bathroom and went to the kitchen. Everyone except Dad was here—naturally, he was at work.
"Come, the food's ready. So, where are you going?" Mom asked.
"PlayStation Club."
"I want to come too!" my little brother chimed in.
"No. You're still too young. If you finish your homework by the time I get back, you can play on the computer a bit." Mom replied.
Her reaction didn't surprise me. The PlayStation Club in our neighborhood was more for older kids. Sometimes people smoked inside, and there was occasional cursing. Since my brother was only 10, Mom's reaction made sense.
She didn't even want me going, but after Dad said, "Let him go play sometimes, nothing will happen," she stopped objecting on weekends.
Mom's answer didn't sit well with my brother. But there was nothing he could do, and he quietly kept eating.
"I'll play for an hour or two and come back. Then we can play whatever you want, Dylan," I tried to cheer him up.
"Let's play 'Battle Royale: The Survival' again. Last week, we couldn't finish the final game because we visited the guests," he said.
Wait a minute. We've never played that game. Besides, we didn't go to any guests last week. Dad was away for work, and everyone at home knew that.
"But we never…" I stopped abruptly.
How many times has this happened now? I am forgetting something? Where did the guests come from?
"Where did we go? I forgot," I asked, probing.
"We went to uncle's house. Your memory's getting weak," my sister replied sarcastically.
No, my memory isn't weak. We couldn't have gone to uncle's. They live in a different city. We'd need to buy plane tickets to get there.
"What about Dad's business trip?" I said.
This was interesting. What answer would I get?
"What business trip?" Mom asked, surprised.
"The one Dad went on recently, I mean."
At that moment, Mom's pupils dilated. She stared at me intently for a second. All emotion vanished from her face, as if she'd lost herself momentarily, but she quickly smiled.
"Oh, right. The one he went on last month. What about it?"