December 7th Friday

When I woke up, the smell of cake wafted into my room. My first thought: YUM! Cake! My second thought: Who the hell is baking cake in my house? My third thought- actually, I didn't have a third thought. Instead I groaned loudly as I slowly sat up, my head throbbing in protest. After standing and trekking to the closet which took way longer than it should've, I stumbled down the steps with a bat in hand.

"Fang, get your butt back in bed, Mister!" Max growled, glaring at me with a spoon in her hand. I gulped.

"You're... cooking?" I asked.

Someone snorted from the kitchen."No, I'm not that thick!" A familiar voice called and a half smile lit up my face as I ran into the kitchen to see if it was true.

"Sam!" I shouted happily, refraining from hugging Max's older brother who was by far the coolest guy I knew. He grinned.

"Hey Fanargoo, what's up?" This time, I refrained from punching him.

"Sam, don't ever call me that again." I muttered.

"Okay." He said, pulling a cake out of the oven.

"You're... baking?" I asked quietly, staring at the cake in awe.

"Max mixed the ingredients, I just put it in the oven." Sam corrected.

"Yup! Your birthday is today, after all!" Max added, hugging my neck and kissing my cheek.

"Oh joy." I mumbled, what fun today would be.

After the cake had been cooled down and iced I got the first slice. Yum! Well, after the first bite I tried desperately not to hack it all back up and instead forcefully swallowed it down and shoved a lopsided grin onto my face. "It's awesome." I said to Max's eagerly awaiting bouncing-on-her-heels figure. The way her face lit up... priceless. I could've died right then and there and I'd be happy knowing I made her smile that wide.

"Finish it off and I'll get you another slice!" Max said excitedly- since this was the first think she'd cook that was 'edible'

"Oh that's okay I'm..." My voice trailed off as her grin plummeted. "I'm already ready for that second slice!" I changed my sentence, deciding a couple bad pieces of cake was worth it, and so I chowed down. Eagerly, I forced every bite of cake into my mouth and even ended up having a third after getting used to the... unique taste.

"There's no way it's that good! Max used salt instead of sugar!" Sam cried as I went for a fourth slice.

"What?" Max snapped. "I thought you said it was sugar! Oh Fang! Why have you been choking that down?" She said, grabbing my fork away and taking a small bite of the cake, and immediately spitting it out into a napkin.

"That's true love right there." Sam said, poking the cake with the slicer as if it would jump up and scream "I'm Alive!" Any second now.

"God, I'm sorry." Max mumbled, looking to me with guilt in her eyes.

"Don't be, it was pretty good for salt cake." I said, and she smiled weakly, then turned to Sam.

"You told me it was salt!" She screamed, smacking him upside the head.

"I wanted to see if he seriously loved you! You're welcome by the way!" Sam growled, shoving his sister lightly.

I had just gotten home from school and visiting my Grandma and I was fully ready to go collapse on the couch and watch reruns of Full House when I noticed Max sitting on the couch in a black tank top and fluffy pajama pants with vampire fangs all over them. I remembered those. They're her favorite PJ pants. She was eating popcorn with a dark blue blanket wrapped around her shoulders and all the lights out.

"Whatcha watching?" I asked, collapsing next to her on the couch. She immediately turned The Grinch off and dragged me into the kitchen, dropping the blanket as she put her hair up in a tight ponytail.

"Nothing anymore, because we're gonna bake Christmas cookies for Santa!" Max said excitedly.

"Seriously? Santa?" I muttered in disbelief.

"Okay, for Sammmta then." Max corrected, patting my head before getting out a mixer and an ingredient card.

"Look, if you wanna get back with me, just say so, I don't wanna make Christmas cookies." I grumbled.

"Then your kitchen will most likely burn down in your sleep." Max threatened and I forced a grin to my face.

"Let's get started.!"

Getting the ingredients and mixing them up weren't a problem, until Max broke an egg over my head and I splashed milk over her. We got into an epic battle of foods, throwing flour, eggs, milk, and chocolate chips at each other. Then somehow I managed to get a hold of some cookie dough and smashed the gooey sweetness in her face. She scowled and licked her lips, then smiled.

"It taste awesome!" She exclaimed.

"Let me try." I muttered, and kissed her quickly- already knowing I'd get punched. "Yup, yum." I said finally, after trying to savor the little bit of strawberry flavor mixed in from Max's lip gloss.

"I'm trying to decide whether I should kill you with the beaters, or the spoon." Max said, reaching for a big wooden spoon. "I guess this will do." She shrugged then turned to me and I yelped and ran for it. I know, I know, big ole fang running from lil ole Max? Well, she knows how to kill a person seven different ways with a straw wrapper. STRAW WRAPPER! How can I not be slightly scared?

She chased me all through the house- we had a utensil fight. (Me with a big fork) "Oh! What? Afraid to fight with a spoon? You coward!" Max cried out as I ducked and stabbed her arm. She whimpered and smacked me upside the head with her spoon- for the seventh time.

"Give!" I called as she started hitting my arms, chest, and head with the stupid thing. Smiling brightly, she set the spoon down and we broke the dough up into balls after that fiasco, putting them up the baking sheet.

Carefully, I put them into the oven. "So, can I get another taste?" I asked casually. To answer, she smacked my arm.

...

After watching the last twenty minutes of The Grinch (Even in that movie the dude gets the girl!) the timer ran off and I quickly ran into the kitchen, yanking the oven lid down. "Fang don't forget the..." Max's voice trailed off as I grabbed the metal tray. The hot metal tray, my fingers burned, and so on instinct I dropped it, sending freshly made Christmas cookies to the ground. Max laughed and pulled me over to the sink while I grumbled under my breath about hating hot trays.

"Fang, remember oven mitts next time, okay?" She said, turning on cool water and letting it run over my burnt fingers. I nodded bitterly.

I hate Christmas baking.

I'm so so sorry for not updating! I went to visit some family and I couldn't connet to their internet. I hope you guys forgive me. I was too busy to type up anymore so I only have this one and the 8th written up. I will be caught up this weekend if not in a couple days, promise.

Soar on

VR