A/N: I didn't like the way this chapter came out last time, so I rewrote it. Oh, and Elton John owns the song "Tiny Dancer." On with the story...
Twister went ten shades of red as he removed his hand from Val's shoulder.
"Thanks a lot for comforting me," she said, wrapping both arms around him in a tight hug.
"Blue-jean baby
L.A. lady
Nothin' seems to slow her down
Pretty eyes
Fiery smile..."
Twister lay on his bed listening to his mom's Elton John CD. He'd lost track of how many times he'd played "Tiny Dancer." He was too busy thinking, no, worrying about Val. Sure, she had a 50-50 shot the mole was nothing, but if it wasn't....well, Twister preferred not to think about that. After all, Ray, Reggie, and Otto had already lost Danielle...
Stop being so pessimistic! Twister told himself.
His musings were interrupted by the sound of heavy pounding on his bedroom door accompanied by his brother's voice.
"Come down here already!" Lars was bellowing. "Mom wants you for dinner." As an afterthought, "Enough with the tiny dancer! You played that song 57 times!!!"
Twister shut off the CD and went down to the kitchen, though he didn't eat much. Lars, of course, took full advantage of an opportunity to steal his little brother's dessert (especially since Sandy had made fish tacos, which Lars hated).