Chapter 10
Happy Birthday!
Hey, I'm sorry if you didn't like the last chapter, I needed a little transition between this chapter and the chapter Scream. Hope you like this one better!
"Happy birthday to yoouu," Cheyenne, Ben, Nudge, Gazzy, Mrs. and Mr. Wilson, Fang, Iggy, and I, chorused, crowded around the Wilson's dark brown wooden table, singing the last verse of Angel's birthday song.
Her blond curls hung around her face, she was also shinning a bright smile. Her long skinny arms were stretched out and clasped together on top of the table.
Mrs. Wilson flashed her picture, then said, "Okay! You can blow out your candles, now!"
Angle did so, and smoke poured from the rainbow colored candle's wicks. Angel giggled happily.
"Happy birthday!" Gazzy exclaimed, smiling.
"Cake or presents first?" Mr. Wilson wondered.
"Presents," Mrs. Wilson said with a nod, setting down her camera. She brought over a few wrapped boxes. Printed on the wrapping paper were monkeys wearing boxers and party hats and also doing the conga line.
Angel opened her gifts, ranging from make up, to a new soccer ball, to iTunes gift cards, video games, and a few new tubes of paints. Each present was opened with a squeal of excitement and a, "Thank you!"
"I'm finally eleven!" Angel beamed.
"And one more year left of elementary school," Cheyenne added, making Angel's smile grow bigger.
"Who wants cake and ice cream?" Mrs. Wilson questioned, bringing over the cake. Everyone replied with yes's.
After we ate, Angel, Iggy, and Gazzy went to the living room to watch a movie that they had been waiting all day for to come on. Fang and I hung back to help clean up the kitchen.
Cheyenne and Ben were talking to Fang's parents. I was helping Fang clear off the table and wipe it down.
"Do you want me to sweep the floor also?" I offered looking up at Fang and he glanced down at me.
"If you want to sweep the floor," He said with a smirk, attempting to mock me.
I smiled and shook my head then grabbed the broom.
I swept the floor by the fridge and under the counters. I went over to the table, where Fang was still cleaning up, and began sweeping there.
"You missed a spot," Fang smirked again.
"I was getting there," I muttered and stuck my tongue out at him.
"So mature."
"Do you want me to sweep your floor or not?" I demanded, pretending to be annoyed but smiled.
The smirk grew. "You said you wanted to sweep the floor."
I glared, trying to think of a good come back, "And I thought you were supposed to be cleaning the table." Okay, so not my best come back but oh well.
Fang went back to cleaning. I swept the floor some more and started to brush the pile of crumbs and objects into a pan when Fang said, "You missed a spot."
I grabbed a balled up receipt from my pan, looked up, and threw it at Fang, hitting him squarely in the head.
Now it was my turn to smirk.
Fang glared down at me, I was still crouched down on the floor, smirking.
I looked into his eyes, still smiling. His eyes were like liquid, they were also warm. A warm dark brown pair of eyes gazing down on me. And in that instant, I could image those eyes in any situation. How they wrinkle around the edges when he smiles, when he's mad, how they narrow, how they would have looked when he was little, how they'll look when he's older, when he's tired, how they droop. When they stare into my eyes and they soften. Those eyes. His eyes.
I felt something flutter in my stomach and my heart did an excited leap. I felt so safe looking into those eyes. Safety, comfort, promising eyes.
"Max? You okay?" Cheyenne asked.
I blushed, and my face felt hot. "Yeah fine. Um, excuse me," I said walking out of the kitchen to the bathroom to compose myself, hide the blush. I felt embarrassed, snagged some how.
As I walked down the hall, I was about to enter the bathroom when I heard Mrs. Wilson say in a hushed voice, "You're just like your father, Fang. You can never tell when a girl likes you." I could image her smiling and shaking her head.
I close and locked the door behind me.
When a girl likes him? What did she mean? Did she mean that I liked Fang? Impossible. We're just friends! I didn't like Fang. I couldn't like Fang. Could I? Did I like Fang? He was a nice guy, sweet, caring, cute, to die for eyes, a silent guy, someone who could always make me smile, I could talk with him for hours (which is sort of weird considering we both don't talk very much), he could make me feel safe, he seemed to always know the right thing to say, and he was strong for me, he was someone I could talk to. He was my rock.
I realized I had made that list with in two minutes. Another thing to add to that list, I liked how easy it was to say good stuff about him.
Did I like Fang?
I sighed and shook my head, I didn't know. I open the door and walked out of the bathroom.
"What did you say?" I demanded.
"I said... Yes." Nudge replied.
"Oh my gosh! You said yes! You're dating Josh Adams!"
"No! No. It's a date. We're not date-ing."
"You're dating Josh!" I giggled.
"We're not dating!" Nudge glared but smiled.
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