111Booyakasha. Partaaay.
Oh, and I used a quote from the (freaking awesome) show, "The Office" in this chapter. Just couldn't pass up the opportunity. Whoever recognizes / tells me what the quote is will get a cookie! Double chocolate chip, fresh from the oven. Mm mm mm. And I'm pretty sure I got the phrase "...like a baseball out of Giants stadium" from somewhere, but I can't figure it out. So if I stole that from one of your idols, bwahahahaha! I mean, sorry. If you tell me where, I'll give them the credit, though. Shout out to . who encouraged (-coughANNOYEDcough-) me to get this up. You know you rock. xD
Onto the chapter. :P
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Chapter 7: Girl-Shoes and Overall-Wetter
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Michelle Watson
This morning, my brothers decided I was dead since I wasn't responding to their idiotic behavior.
I was sleeping.
I heard them go downstairs (Anthony said they should start planning the funeral), so I let myself dream of Hello Kitty rock concerts and flying cheeseburgers, blissfully serene.
Oh, and guess what? The cheeseburger and the bass guitar (whose solo totally made the concert) fell in love with each other. AWW!
…Too bad I ate it. The guitar, I mean, not the cheeseburger. The drums already took care of him. Rats.
My ears picked up the sound of my bedroom door opening about five minutes later, but I chose to ignore it.
And then I was wet.
AAHHHH!
And my bed was wet.
AHHHHHH!
And I smelled like pickles.
EEEEEWWWWWW!
My eyes flew open, and my brothers launched themselves at me, screaming: "She's alive! She's alive!" and they congratulated themselves for their knowledge that "pickle juice had the power to awake the dead."
What idiots.
"Well," Joey said, munching on a pickle (…gross!), "We just wanted to let you know that the word of the day is 'awesome'."
And then I remembered it was my little brother's birthday.
So I decided, after two minutes of not being able to fall sleep again (the smell of pickle juice was horrendously intolerable), that I'd get a head start on preparing myself for school.
Maybe if I took a longer shower and scrubbed harder, the stench would go away.
When I got out of the tub, I smelled like mangos, strawberries, peaches, and white coral nectar.
…And pickles.
I shrugged to myself, got dressed, and went downstairs to greet my little brother happy birthday.
He was struggling to open a new box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch (good Lord, he had good taste) —I wordlessly opened the box, and was rewarded with his adorably Ben toothy little grin.
"So, are you having an awesome birthday so far?" I asked him, stressing the Word of the Day.
…And I suppose I should take this time to explain the whole concept of WOTD to you guys.
Well, it was yet another Watson tradition, upheld for as long as I was able to remember. And when I say "Watson Tradition," I really mean a "Watson 6 Tradition," you know, me and my brothers. And my parents, too, but they only joined in if we picked a really awesome one.
Every time it was one of our birthdays, we had a different Word, which had to be used regularly in conversation. For some reason, we all thought it was pretty freaking exciting. Like, "WOOOHOO!" exciting.
Which is why I couldn't really blame my brothers for behaving the way they did —you know, like idiots. They tended to get irrationally spontaneous and dorky with anticipation.
So. Word of the day. Last year, they chose booger for my birthday— I'm sure you could imagine how much fun they had with that one.
Victor, especially. He adopted a Southern Belle accent and maintained it throughout the course of the day. His favorite phrase? "Well I'd be a booger on a whole wheat bun!" he'd say, with a hand smacked across his chest.
…No idea.
Even my parents joined in for that WOTD—I couldn't stop them from calling me "sugar booger" for once in my life. Eck.
But for Ben's birthday this year, we decided to twist around the Word of the Day shebang.
Joey's idea. He said that Ben was five —a very significant age, because he had to utilize one whole hand to tell people how old he was.
Michael and Victor agreed. "His entrance into manhood," they called it. Personally, I thought they were all weirdoes, but what can ya do?
So we decided that we wouldn't tell Ben what the Word of the Day was. He knew how it worked, and he knew he would have one, but we figured that if he could guess, by the end of the day, what we chose (well, actually they went on and agreed without me. Grr.) for his WOTD, we would do something extra-special for him.
…Pah, NO, we hadn't decided what that "extra-special" something would be. Did we look like people who planned those sorts of things out?!
Yeah, that's what I thought.
Anyways, being the amazing sister that I was, I decided to help Ben out (…not cheat), and stress the "awesome" in my question. He was a smart kid.
"'Sokay," he shrugged. Then he grinned, and his bright navy blue eyes met mine, shooting with excitement. "Mom's bwinging cupcakes to my schoowwl t'day."
I returned the smile. "Awesome."
He grinned again, and went back to eating his cinnamon-sugar swirls. In every bite.
So I grabbed a bowl for myself and proceeded to tell him about how awesome the cereal tasted, and how awesome my wake-up call was (he didn't catch the sarcasm), and how awesome it was that he was five, and how awesome he looked, and how freaking awesome I knew the day would be.
And he asked if I could pass the milk.
...He was a genius, honest!
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
The rest of the school week passed with little incident. Rachel was still struggling to find a suitable punishment for Ryan, as he did force (ahem) me to go toy-shopping with him. RED ALERT!
He tried to ask for another favor yesterday, too. He wanted me to tie his shoes. I don't know if he was just having a power trip or something (ugh…boys), or if he was testing whether or not he could get away with certain favors, but I wouldn't do that for anything. He was really persistent, though.
"Come on, Michelle. I'm lazy," he sighed, twisting his mouth hopefully.
"Too bad."
"…Have I ever told you that you give me butterflies?" he asked, smirking.
I stared at him for a second, before clearing my throat (…meh, it was kinda dry), and answering: "Victor used to bury those alive in our backyard."
Just call me Princess Charming.
Yeah, Ryan looked pretty disturbed for the rest of the day. And I think that was the highlight of my week.
Anyways, it was Friday afternoon, and we were finally starting to get the materials for Ben's party. And we had to get his "extra special" prize (…uhh, we still didn't know what that would be) because Ben figured out his Word! Yippee! My brothers blamed me for being so obvious about it, but…heh. Whatever. Since we decided we should get his prize while we were out shopping, he wasn't allowed to come along. He didn't mind; he was having too much fun playing with the Hot Wheels set my parents gave him for his birthday two days prior. And our new dog, Rox.
HE WAS SOO CUTE! Rox, I mean. Ben, too, but whatever. Our grandma's dog had babies and Rox was the cutest of the pack. He was a beautiful Jack Russell Terrier with enough energy to make anyone drop dead.
Mom gave us her credit card ( .he….how exciting), and my brothers and I settled on hitting up the grocery store first for snackies. Dad even gave us permission to buy those "sinfully unhealthy snacks" that we "kids seemed to enjoy so much." Mom had a hard time accepting that, health-freak that she was, but hey…"What Dad says goes!" Anthony quoted. Oh yeah.
"Chips," I said, throwing huge party-sized bags of Doritos (Cooler Ranch, of course), Lays, and Cheetos puffs (and twists!) into our awesome blue cart.
Yummm.
"Ew," Victor remarked disgustedly (WHAT?!), picking up the blue bag of Salt and Vinegar Lays. "We are not getting these."
EX-CUH-USE ME?! Those were, ahem, "da bomb." I stared up at him defiantly. "And why not?"
He frowned, leaning against the shelf behind him. "The sourness makes my tongue sting. A real pain. We could keep the Sour Cream & Onion, but these have got to go."
Michael and Joey agreed, but Anthony said that the sting was the best part. Only one person sided with me?! FINE!
Michael grinned. "Three against two. Three wins!" For some reason, it was a habit of ours to say which number "won," even though it was already obvious. I'm pretty sure Anthony started it; he was the oldest, after all.
The three haters knocked fists with each other, and I scowled. "Fine. Harvest Cheddar-flavored Sun Chips."
They shrugged, and we moved on to bigger and better things— the candy aisle. Woot!
"Pixie Stix!" Joey cried, reaching to grab a few packs.
"No, no, no," Michael clucked his tongue. "Let's get the giant ones!"
We all turned to see him pointing to the 21-inched straws of pure sweetness. I swear I heard some Hallelujah angels singing in the background.
"Too much mess," we sighed longingly, gazes still fixated on the box from heaven. Stinky kids.
"Yeah, whatever, ya party poopers," Michael muttered, and helped Joey grab the pink packages of regular-sized Pixie Stix from off the shelf.
We filled our cart with Starbursts, Skittles, 3 Musketeers, Sour Patch Kids, Red Vines (eww), DumDums, Smarties, JolliRanchers, M&Ms, Swedish Fish, and the cute stuffed monkey I couldn't resist buying for myself. Oops.
"All right." Joey clapped his hands together once. "We need drinks."
So we headed to the aisle with all the juice boxes and stuff, speaking up as we picked up something we liked.
"Juicy Juice." The very best juice for the very best kids.
"Caprisun." With antioxidants.
"Hi-C." …It tasted good.
"Kool-Aid." Everyone liked having giant pitchers create holes in their walls.
"Budweiser."
We all turned to look at Victor, who was carrying the six-pack of beer to our cart with an indifferent expression.
He grinned. "…You know, to spike the Juicy-Juice with."
We raised our eyebrows.
"Kidding…man, has the world lost its sense of humor?"
"Yep," I said indifferently, and headed to the cookie aisle.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
"So, where to next?" Anthony asked, as we loaded up the van's trunk with our cavit—groceries. We were driving my mom's minivan, and Anthony looked really out of place behind the wheel. Other people thought so, too; when we were heading to the grocery store, this old dude looked at him strangely over the top of his shiny red convertible. Joey asked if he wanted to trade cars, and then the dude sped off. My brother yelled "Old people these days!" out the window, and the man flipped him the bird without turning his shiny, graying head. Then Joey squeaked (like a girl) indignantly, and he was no doubt preparing himself to embarrass himself further, but Michael pulled his head and shaking fists back in.
Anyways.
"Patty's Party Supplies!" Vic pumped his fist excitedly. He liked decorating…like, a lot.
"Oh, God," Michael muttered under his breath, prompting an amused grin from Joey.
Victor liked decorating…but he tended to be, umm, overly "creative" in his, ahem, "beautifications."
Yeah. We needed a leash for that one. Michael handcuffed him when we were decorating for the Halloween party one time. I think Vic sort of mellowed out after that, but we could never be too sure.
"Here we go," Anthony twisted his lips unsurely, scratching behind his ear.
"Here we go," Joey, Michael, and I echoed with equal uncertainty.
"HERE WE GO!" Victor shrieked, wiggling his hips and shoulders in gross-looking excitement.
"Oh, God," we all mumbled in unison.
DOOMED. We were DOOMED!
"Wait," Michael said, and my ears perked up hopefully. "Didn't mom already buy all the decorations yesterday or something?"
…SAVED. We were SAVED!
"Yes," Victor said impatiently, "But she said she forgot to buy the party hats and those…things."
We stared, partly in relief, and partly curious as to what "those…things" were. I mean, really, you'd think he could be a little more vague.
"You blow in 'em, they make a sound," he clarified expectantly, as if we should've known what he meant.
"Cucumbers?" Joey offered, shrugging.
We blinked.
He was a freak, too.
Paha.
So twenty minutes later, we were driving home with all the stuff we bought safely in the trunk (including those noise-making blowout things Vic was talking about...not cucumbers), when suddenly, I shouted: "ANTHONY! TURN THE CAR AROUND!"
His gaze flitted over to me briefly, before he shrugged, making a U-turn in compliance.
Michael groaned from the back as we passed through our neighborhood. "Micheellleeee," he whined. "We were so close! Why can't we just go home?"
I turned around in my squeaky leather seat, announcing in a direful whisper: "We almost forgot to buy Ben his extra-special prize!"
Everyone in the car sucked in dramatic breaths, and I nodded solemnly. "What horrible people we are."
"Indeed."
"Indeed."
"Indeed, indeed."
"THE HORROR!" Victor screeched, and we all turned to him, deadpan. "Indeed," he amended sheepishly. "To the toy store!"
And for the second time in three days, I stepped inside Toys 'R' Us, grinning and skipping excitedly.
I wasn't paying much attention to where I was going, so I guess it would come as no surprise that I bumped into someone within thirty seconds of entering the store. A record, I'd think.
The person turned around, and I was getting ready to apologize (profusely and sincerely), before I realized it was only an indignantly spluttering Ryan.
"Oh, it's just you," I shrugged, side-stepping him to admire the display of Transformers action figures.
I heard his loud gasp, but I chose to ignore it, biting back a grin. What a drama queen.
"Just me?" he asked, before going on about my impertinence and blah, blah, blah. I wasn't really paying attention, though, as the minute I'd turned around, my gaze was fixated on his shoes.
My brothers caught up with me, greeting Ryan in surprise. They went on with their "Long time no see, Eldridge," and "Dude, where've you been?" before they noticed my blank stare.
"Umm, Michelle, what the freak are you looking at?" Joey asked, raising his eyebrows.
Michael hummed. "I think Shelly here has a crush on Ryan's lower digits," he suggested, tapping his chin.
"Or his shoes," Victor and Anthony offered with identical shrugs.
Freakaayy.
Ryan looked down and smirked, admiring his orange and blue sneakers. "Yup," he glanced up at me, "These are pretty sexy, aren't they?"
I snorted, covering my eyes with my hands in disbelief. Was he kidding me? "Yeah," I mumbled. "Rachel used to have a pair just like 'em."
My brothers took a second peek at his shoes and they snickered in unison; Ryan furrowed his brows.
"Dude," Anthony started, grinning widely. "They do look pretty girly."
I wasn't kidding about Rachel.
"WHA-AAT?!" Girl-Shoes exclaimed, curling his lips. "I got these in the men's section. For men. Like myself."
"Mmhmm, sure," my brothers and I shrugged, walking away in search of Ben's perfect prize.
We heard him call after us and we shared a laugh as his footsteps neared us.
Girl-Shoes skidded and came to a stop in front of me, gripping my shoulders. I think we were drawing attention to ourselves. Not good. "I swear!" he cried pathetically. "These are masculine and awesome." He stopped to flash me a grin. "Don't they remind you of Tony the Tiger? 'Cause that's why I got 'em."
That's why Rachel got 'em, too. I bit my tongue.
Victor pursed his lips. "Yeah, they do remind me of Tony, but he doesn't wear girl shoes, Girl-Shoes."
My brothers and I beamed broadly, muttering "Girl-Shoes…that's what I was thinking," under our breaths.
Great minds think alike, huh?
Ryan glared at all of us, pointing to his Nikes. "At the very least, they're bisexual."
We all blinked back our amusement. Good Garfield, he was a dorkwad.
"The word is unisex." I rolled my eyes as he shrugged carelessly, muttering 'Same difference' to my smirking brothers. "And if you like 'em, then wear 'em, Girl-Shoes." I grinned. "Make a statement."
I saw the (over) confidence creeping back into his eyes, and I smiled. He winked.
My brothers cocked their brows.
…Ten bucks said Ryan was gonna wear his girl shoes to the party tomorrow, and we would continue to make fun of him.
And tell Rox to pee on them just because.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
"What are you doing here, anyway?" Ryan asked, still following us.
I glanced at his genuinely curious face, and shrugged. "Looking for Ben's Word of the Day prize." Hmm...maybe that giant Care Bear would suffice?
He paused, and then nodded, as if he understood what I just said.
"What are you doing here?" Joey asked, raising an eyebrow in Ryan's direction.
Ryan…blushed. Aawwww!
…I mean, ew. How deplorably detestable…dude.
"Oh, I was just—"
"Stalking me?!" Victor cried, "What did I tell you about that last time?"
Ryan blinked, head tilted, before flashing a grin at my younger brother. Uh-oh. "I believe you asked if I got any good shots of you in the shower," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
There was a surprised pause (and a gagging noise from me), before Victor laughed, shaking his head. I heard him mutter "Still the same old Ryan," under his breath, before he walked up to him, and stage-whispered: "Good memory. So did you?"
Ew. Sometimes guys could be really disgusting.
Ryan was about to respond, but I cut him off. "Wait," I shrugged when he looked at me, "What are you doing here, though? I mean, seriously."
I just wanted to know why he was blushing. Pahahaha.
Ryan looked down, scratching his neck. "Lindsay made me," he said.
I held back a snicker. My brothers didn't even bother refraining. "Dude," Michael said. "You listen to your sister?"
Joey looked him up and down in mock disgust. "Who does that anymore?"
I rolled my eyes. Brothers these days.
Anthony cleared his throat. "That's pretty cool of you," he told Ryan with a one-shouldered shrug, ignoring my other brothers' protests. PAH! TAKE THAT! "Why'd Lindsay make you come back here, though? Didn't you take her and Michelle earlier this week?"
Mmhmm, he got me a Baker Anne, too; I learned Ryan would give in to buying me something if I annoyed him for a while. Anyways, Baker Anne was really awesome. Victor said she reminded him of Chucky, so I named her Chuckina Anne Watson. Cute, huh? Not to Victor. He was still scared of the sweetie pie. I think he hurt her feelings when he tried to strangle her.
"Yep," Ryan responded, nodding his head slightly, "But apparently, her 'worstedest enemy' brought the same Raggedy Anne as her to show-and-tell, and now she wants Cowgirl Anne instead of Ballerina Anne," he said, holding up the doll he was going to exchange.
I laughed before I could stop myself. I didn't have a 'worstedest enemy' until I was at least…wait, I was Lindsay's age when Ryan spoliated my hair, wasn't I? Never mind then.
"Yeah, right," Joey whispered to me loudly. "He's still stalking Vic."
Ryan rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm just gonna exchange this and leave. See you guys tomorrow!"
We bid Ryan good-bye and resumed our shopping.
We eventually settled on this super ultra-cool mini motorcycle thing for Ben's prize. It was sleek, shiny, black, awesome, and 140 dollars…but we were using Mom's credit card, so BWAHAHAHAHA!
…And the four of us agreed on paying her thirty-five dollars each when we got home. Darn.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
I woke up the next day at eight in the AM because the party was scheduled to start at one and I had to get decorating. Woot!
Victor was the only one up besides my parents, and he was haphazardly throwing blue, green, purple, yellow, orange, and gray streamers everywhere. It was a mess. And he was having too much fun.
My mom looked at me pleadingly. "Would you please wake your brothers up? Victor is a little hard for these old bones to handle," she joked, grinning softly as Victor objected petulantly.
I snorted. "Aww, mom, you don't look a day over three hundred and nine."
She looked at me, trying to be firm. No need to hold back that smile, mom! "Now," she ordered.
I sighed dramatically, stomping up to my brothers' rooms like an elephant.
They woke up easily, which was actually very disappointing, considering I was looking forward to getting them back for the PJT.
That's Pickle Juice Torture, silly.
"Wake up! WAKE UP!" I screamed, barging into each of their rooms, and jumping on their beds.
I told them that Victor was being Victor, so they ran down the stairs, theatrically pointed their index fingers at my brother and cried: "YOUR EVIL REIGN OF DECORATING IS OVER!"
…Yep, they planned that.
Victor turned his head to them ever so slowly, fixing them with a stare and smirk that could only be described as manically villainous.
"YOU'LL NEVER GET OUT OF THIS ALIVE!" he cackled, and the decorating went on like that until our house was…
As beautiful as it would get in a predominantly male home.
Rox was getting really excited by all the yelling and whatnot, so he started peeing everywhere.
But…Ben was one happy kid, and that's all we could really ask for.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
"MOM! WHAT IS THIS?!" I exclaimed incredulously, pointing at the outfit strewn across my bed in disgust.
I heard her footsteps halt at the entrance of my room, so I looked up with helpless eyes. "You are my mom," I continued passionately as she nodded, "And you are not supposed to give me such revealing articles of clothing to wear—and to a kids' party, no less—just what were you thinking?!" Yeah, my mother still picked out my clothes sometimes.
Mom grinned, and then shrugged. "That you would look cute? Just try it on," she urged, and her eyes were so expectantly bright that I couldn't say no.
That and the fact that I wasn't allowed to say no.
Always listen to your mom, kiddies!
"Fine, be right back," I muttered, marching to the bathroom two doors down, and sprung on by her dramatic cries of "That's my girl!"
I guess you wanna know what my mom wanted me to wear, huh? Two words: Brace. Yourselves.
…Well, readers, my very own mother urged me to wear—nay, forced me to wear…overalls!
No, no, no, not just any overalls. Overall shorts. I know, right? I solemnly decided to myself as I donned the pale denim outfit that the entire world's decency had gone down the drain like gurgled, tasteless mouthwash.
I looked at myself in the full-length mirror hung on the bathroom door, making faces at myself. A twist of the mouth here, an eyebrow-quirk there, a poke of the tongue—
"Hey, Michelle! Could you hurry up in there?!" Michael asked, banging on the door.
I hummed. "Yep, I'm done," I said, and twisted the doorknob easily.
He yelped and jumped when he saw me, spluttering incoherently. "What—you…clothes—legs…that…you're…girl—heh?"
I shrugged feebly. "Mom made me wear it; bring your complaints to her," I suggested, silently hoping he would. (Strength in numbers, people!)
…And he did just that.
"MOM! What are you doing to my little sister?!" he asked, stomping up to my room like a practiced thespian.
"Umm…what?" Mom asked, seemingly confused. Seemingly being the key word there. What a con-artist!
"I mean…" he jutted a finger at me; face contorting, "That."
He sure did know how to make me feel beautiful.
Mom rolled her eyes. "I don't get it," she sighed, "Those overalls make her look so cute." She looked down at me adoringly. "Aww, I knew they would, honey," she cooed, smoothing my hair down.
Michael groaned, his eyebrow twitching impatiently. "They end, like, a foot above her freaking knees!"
"More like nine inches."
Actually, more like six and a half. Jeez, they sucked at measuring.
"Exactly!" Michael exclaimed. "Now make her change."
Mom put a finger to her lips, as if deliberating something of great importance. "If I show you where I hide all the sweets, will you let this go?"
He looked at her incredulously. "Duh."
Yeah, you tell 'er, Mike! You te—
What?!
"WHAT?!" I screamed, distressed. I looked at Michael incriminatingly. "You traitor," I whispered.
"Now, now, Shell," he grinned sheepishly, "No need for dramatics. I promise I'll share some Twinkies with you someday," he said, and bolted out of my room like a baseball out of Giants stadium.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Maybe if I drink myself to death, they won't make me wear it.
That's what I was thinking an hour before the party as I grabbed some Minute Maid out of the fridge, and started drinking straight from the carton.
Ten minutes later, I had to pee. Badly.
I sprinted up the stairs, through the hall, and came to a tired stop outside the bathroom door. It was occupied. UGH!
I pounded on the door, jumping up and down helplessly. "Hey! Who's in there?"
No answer.
KNOCK! KNOCK! "I said, who's in there?!"
BANG! BANG! "Open up or I'll take your kids! And force-feed them spinach!"
Anthony put a hand on my shoulder from behind. I looked up at his serious face. "Let's not do anything drastic," he said, "And Rox is in there."
WHAT?! I mean, Rox was the cutest little chocolate-hazel-eyed puppy dog I'd ever laid eyes on, but…
I looked up at Anthony's grim face with a million questions in my eyes. He sighed, pursing his lips disappointedly. "Rox bit into the Red Vines, so we're punishing him."
That's right. Pee all over the house, and get congratulated. But bite into our sweets (I didn't like licorice, anyway) and you were as good as…in the bathroom when I needed to pee!
"But I need to pee!" I told him, still hopping around restlessly. "Can't I just open the door and relieve myself?"
He shrugged. "Just go downstairs; if you open this door, he won't learn his lesson." He paused. "Or you could pee in your pants. I'm sure no one would notice," he added sarcastically.
Now that was an idea. I jumped up to ruffle Anthony's hair. "You're a genius!" I gushed, and almost laughed at his look of disgust.
"I was kidding!" he called as I ran down the stairs.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
The first thing I did when I stepped into the downstairs bathroom was…pee.
I'll spare you the details.
And then I grabbed a cup from the medicine cabinet, filled it with water, and…
Splashed the water on my butt.
"Man, that's cold," I mumbled, fighting back a silly grin. That was kind of fun!
Jeez, don't look at me like that. It wasn't like I did that on a daily basis or anything; I had a plan. Well, I was still wearing my overalls. And since now I had a wet spot on the butt of those same overalls, it would look like I peed in my pants. And if I showed my mom, she would say I wouldn't have to wear that revealing (to me, at least) outfit anymore!
Yippee! I was a genius!
I opened the door happily, only to bump into…
Ryan?! So he was a stalker!
Ryan looked down, waggling his eyebrows. "Nice legs."
What? I flushed almost immediately, and turned around in stupid embarrassment and righteous indignation. Yeah, yeah, go on—make fun of my clothes! See if I care, you stupid, girly stalker!
"What the —did you pee in your pants?!"
I grinned to myself, spinning back around to face him. I was getting ready to say…"Um, sure," but I couldn't pick my mouth up off the floor.
He was shirtless. When the heck did that happen? I fought the urge to slap my hand over my eyes, and settled for looking at him like he was volcanic alien poop.
Ryan shrugged, grinning. "Joey told me to. Happy birthday!" he screamed, handing me a Sharpie.
One, two, three—all together now: What the freak, Girl-Shoes?!
Author's Note. Now just what is that Sharpie for? And why did Ryan take off his shirt? And why did Michelle's very own brother supposedly tell him to? And why did Ryan greet Michelle "happy birthday" when it was obviously her little brother's? And will I ever get around to writing about the birthday party?
I sure hope so.
My little brother Ben's birthday is tomorrow! Cool, no? xD
It's been just about three weeks since my last update. I know I said two, but I've been waking up for practice at 4:30 a.m. every morning, and I've been preparing for church camp and Vacation Bible School and lots of other stuff that I can't remember because I made them up. Not the first three; I mean, the ones I haven't said.
Riiiiiighhttttt. Moving on.
(: THANKS SO MUCH TO ALL YOU REVIEWERS :)
You guys rock my world. xD
Pieces of the sun, Inkless, madeyes61, Elfish Suicide, ., ithinkineedaattitudeadjustment, bubblesarecool, His Mercy's Waiting (I don't think I ever got around to replying to you. So sorry about that! Well, thanks so much for the review; I love hearing from you:D), heylo (lol! thanks! romance, huh? we'll see about that), violet-eyez (I didn't reply to you either. I'm horrible. SHH! Lol, well thanks. They are dumb-os, aren't they?)
And I guess you lurkers semi-rock, too. xD But you know you want to review, especially since I put my whole being (umm…sure) into this chapter —which is the LONGEST chapter I've ever written!
Umm.
THANKS AGAIN!
-becky