"Are you done now?" I asked grumpily, watching Lysander grabbing every bag of Cheeze-its in the whole entire grocery store.

"Nope," He said, "Not quite yet."

"We've been here for an hour already," I complained, "It's enough."

"You're not the only one that's eating!" He snapped. "Sorry, that was rude. I want some too."

Okay then.

"You know there's a way to carry all of them, right?" I asked.

He froze. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's called taking two trips." I rolled my eyes.

"Well, then no. I want to take only one trip." He continued struggling.

"There ARE other ways..." I suggested.

"Uh-huh, telling me now would be pretty nice," he said, trying to gesture to himself, but dropped a box of Cheeze-its. "Such as...?"

"Such as getting a cart?" I offered.

"No," he said grumpily. "Not what I meant. Like carrying it ON you."

"Why are you so freaking obsessed with you carrying it on yourself?" I asked incredulously, "You're ridiculous."

"What? Have a problem with it? I missed my workout today, mind you because I had to run to the grocery store to buy Cheeze-it's for SOMEONE." He argued.

"Yeah, and SOMEONE bought me to an interrogation room and didn't let me out until I admitted SOMETHING to SOMEONE!" I yelled in his face.

"Oh, right!" He exclaimed. "I remember now."

Not even a 'sorry?' Rude, I say, RUDE!

"Back to another helpful idea," I said, "You could carry a basket."

"It won't fit," He said, gesturing to the twenty boxes in his arms.
Okay, he is officially the stupidest person I've EVER met. And believe me, I've met plenty of stupid people before.

"There's more than one basket in this store," I reminded him.

"Oh. Right. I knew that."

Yeah. Sure. Whatever helps him sleep at night.

"So go get the baskets, dummy!" I reminded him.

"Knew that too!" He called behind his shoulder. I stood there awkwardly, waiting for him to come back.

When he got back, I was already ready to go. Actually, scratch that, I was ready to go a LOOOOOOONG time ago.

"Wait," He pointed.

"What? " I groaned, "If you need to get more Cheeze-its, there aren't anymore because you've already emptied the store of them."

"Y- oh, I did? I didn't know that. Well, we can check out now." He smiled.

About time. "We should have done that a long time ago," I sighed, looking at the twenty baskets he was carrying, "Need any help?" I offered.

"I'm strong," He argued, and at that specific moment, he dropped two baskets. "Usually." He added.

While sighing again, I helped him pick up the baskets. "NEED ANY HELP?" I asked, purposely saying it loudly indicating that saying no was not an answer.

"SURE, JULIA, SURE!" He replied loudly, indicating that he understood and wanted his beat-up later. No problem at all! Rescheduling is no biggie.

After we finished checking out, we were carrying the boxes of Cheeze-its in plastic bags (save them turtles!). Correction: Lysander was carrying the boxes of Cheeze-its in plastic bags. There, that looks better.

"See? I can do th- never mind." He sighed, looking at the ripped and broken plastic bag he was holding in his left hand.

"Do you nee-" He cut me off.
"Yes," he said, already knowing what I was going to say, "I'd like some help, please, now, please." He repeated.

I was going to ask him if he needed a slap across the face- never mind. He needs one. Why did I ask anyway? I'm too kind.

Instead of giving the boxes back to him, I kept them in my arms. "I'll hold these. Scrabble Cheeze-its are rarer than regular ones."

"I can hold th-" I cut him off.

I raised one box in a motion like I was going to hit him with it. "You were saying?"

He stayed silent. That's better.

After we finished loading the car, I walked halfway to the passenger side before freezing.

"Wait," I said quietly, poking Lysander repeatedly, "I think that's President Obama."

He looked around and stared at a random innocent guy. "Nah, that looks like President Trump."

I facepalmed. "No him, you oversized monkey! Him!" I pointed. "And he looks more like Harry Styles than Donald Trump. He's in his twenties!" The guy, not Donald Trump, by the way, if I needed to clarify that.

"Oh! Him? He's Martin Luther King Jr., right?" He asked.

"He died over fifty years ago, idiot." I reminded him.

He turned pale for some reason. "So he's a zombie?" He asked weakly. "Of course he's a zombie," He said to himself, "I'm a genius!"

I think it was about that time when he actually realized that was THE PRESIDENT OBAMA.

"Oh." He said. "But why is he in a parking lot in front of a grocery store?"

"Why are you asking ME? Some genius you are," I muttered.

"I think he's coming up to us," He said.

"You think?" I asked, bewildered, "Okay, yeah, he's coming up to us."

"Pretend you don't know me!" He rushed.

That actually wasn't very hard to pretend, to be honest. I quickly walked back in the direction of the store, turning away from the car while Lysander was, well, as weird as it sounds, talking to the former president of the United States of America.

It was actually pretty funny seeing Lysander looking at the president's disguise so he wouldn't be surrounded by paparazzi.

The disguise included a neon jacket, a jumper, and fake mustaches topped off with three sets of sunglasses and a hat. Just imagine how weird that would look, and then pair it with Mr. Obama. Funny, right?

Lysander pretended to look for me while Obama was speaking to someone on his phone.

"OH, HEY, JULIA! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE HERE? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" He yelled/asked dramatically.

"Oh, just hunting elephants, obviously," I said, rolling my eyes.

I followed him back to the car and I asked him, "What was that about? I know the president wouldn't travel hundreds of miles to meet a moron like you," I said jokingly.

Apparently, to him, it wasn't funny, and he said, "I think I did something bad."

If I could meet the president if I did something bad, I would become a gangster in a minute. I might even sell his signature, too, if he gives it to me.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Going to the grocery store isn't doing something ba- wait a minute. Does this have to do anything with your, um, arrest?" I whispered the last word.

"No, Julia," He said, "It's about my dad."

"What about him? I thought you could live alone since you're eighteen!" I recited the information he had told me a week ago.

"You see, Julia, uh..." he trailed off, "I lied. I don't turn eighteen until about another month."

At that point, I didn't care if he lied to me or not. "So what does that mean?" I questioned.

He looked away from me. "That means I have to go to Brazil on a visa until I turn eighteen."
____________

*insert smile*

Hey party people! I know this is a late update and I'm sorry. Still trying to finish the book.

And this is the specific 'big plot changer' thing I was talking about in the last chapter's author's note.

I hope you enjoy the chapter and if you did please vote, comment, and share.

How'd you like this chapter? Let me know in the comments.

Today is 9/11. September 11th, 2021, exactly twenty years after terrorists destroyed our two World Trade Centers, the Twin Towers.

Today, one World Trade Center stands. 2,996 lives were taken that day.

What I'm saying is that many people lost their loved ones and today should be a day for everyone to just... remember how weak we were and how there were first responders that helped us through that.

So share some love to the ones that have lost in the comments. <3

Remember what I said, thanks for reading, and have a nice day!

Somerandomhuman88