Chapter 16: Surprise, surprise

A/N: Wow, it's been like, what, eons ago since I updated this fic? Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I've been trying really hard to squeeze time to finish this story. Been kinda really really busy. Anyways, i hope you guys aren't too pissed yet to read this chapter, though. I know it's crappy, but at least I updated, right? Ha ha ha...No? Well, tough luck... I'm still posting it. >:P On with the story.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own them!

Connie drummed her fingers on the countertop and impatiently glanced at the clock. It read 11:40am. Adam had gone out half an hour before, saying something about getting some things from his parents' house, and then picking up some lunch for them afterwards. She didn't exactly volunteer to stay, but Adam didn't want her hauling his stuff, either. So it was decided that would just stay behind.

She shuffled towards the couch, grabbed the remote and plopped down. She flicked it a few times, before settling for Cartoon Network. Nothing is good on tv in the morning, especially on Mondays. A few minutes later and she clicked it off.

How boring could this day get? Connie then found herself thinking about what they could do that afternoon. Maybe we could play hockey again. Or maybe a movie… he did want to see that –

Her train of thoughts, however, was interrupted by the soft growling sound of her stomach. Rolling her eyes, she ambled her way back to the kitchen. A sigh escaped her lips as soon as she noticed that they were all out of oranges, a fruit she had strangely grown a fondness for – or so Adam claimed. How he actually knew that, she would never know. The guy just seemed to know every single thing in her life, and Connie was sure it was much more than he let her on to believe.

She pondered for a minute before she finally decided to get out and get some herself, but not without leaving a quick note. Connie walked briskly toward the drawers in the living room, and rummaged around for something to use.

"Aha," she exclaimed to herself, holding out a pen and a pad of paper triumphantly. She scribbled a short note:

Adam,

We're out of oranges... Went out to get some.

Tapping the pen on her chin, she quickly added with a grin:

Don't worry; I think I still remember my way

back here, if that's what you're thinking.

Connie stopped dead, contemplating what to write next.

'Yours truly?' What, you writing a college acceptance letter or something!

'Your friend?' Too… friendly.

'Love?' Don't get any ideas now, Connie! You're not writing a love letter, for cryin' out loud! But her heart fluttered at the thought, anyway.

In the end, she decided to simply write her name, but not without a tiny smiley face beside it.

Grabbing her bag, Adam's mp3 player, and extra set of keys to the apartment, she set down the note where it was visible in plain view and headed out of the door.

"Ugh! I hate airplane food!" Goldberg groused as soon as they stepped inside Charlie's house. "Always tastes like it's been pre-barfed."

Most of them, and by that meaning all except one, were in a rather grouchy mood. All of them had been up since the crack of dawn, when a certain green-eyed menace started banging on their doors to wake them up. Guy had even practically packed their things for them.

"I'm starving. How 'bout we grab something to eat?" Charlie suggested, dumping his bags beside the couch along with the others.

"Bu –" Guy stopped dead in his sentence as ten pair of angry and sleep-deprived eyes burn in to him. "So, um, where do you guys want to eat?"

"So how did Charlie found out about that diner, exactly?" Fulton asked. He was wandering with Luis a few feet ahead the rest of the team, enduring the glaring heat from the afternoon sun. They were on their way to this little diner Charlie suggested, just a couple of blocks from downtown. "It's not as if there's only one in here, anyway. There must be at least a couple every few blocks."

Luis shrugged. "Dunno, must've taken a girl there during a date."

He snickered, remembering that his friend had actually done something like that before.

"Hey guys!" They turned around to see Goldberg waving at them a couple of stores behind. "The place is over here," gesturing to a fairly new diner that had passed, with a nondescript sign that both of them now only noticed. Most of their friends were already piling inside.

"You guys go ahead. I think I saw a music store just ahead, so I'll just drop by and look. See if I can find new tunes." Fulton turned his head to Luis.

"Yeah, I think I'll come take a look too." Luis nodded.

"Great. Just order me some double cheeseburger with a side of fries, and milkshake."

That earned him a smirk from Luis. "I'll have the same, but with onion rings and a soda. Thanks, man."

"Alright," Goldberg answered with a shrug. "But don't go blaming me if it disappears before you even get back."

"Dude, you gotta see this." Luis suddenly piped. Fulton noticed him rubbing eyes before squinting ahead. "There, that girl with a bag of fruits or something. She just totally looks like Connie, it's creepy."

He followed his gaze towards the same direction and did the same. It took him only half a second before hitting Luis at the back of his head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Luis rubbed his head huffily, sending him a glare.

"That's because it is Connie." Then he jogged towards her, barely registering the fact that Luis had run back to the diner, no doubt to inform the others.

She hummed softly, gently bobbing her head to the sound blaring in her ears as Connie exited the store. The bag of oranges she came to get was now swinging lazily in her hand. It wouldn't normally take her twenty minutes to get to the store to buy something, since it was only a couple of blocks away. The weather, however, was so perfect that she had slowed down her pace to a leisure stroll.

Connie made her way to the crosswalk sign and pressed the button. She stood there for a couple of seconds waiting for it to signal go, when all of a sudden, strong arms grabbed her from behind. Startled, she turned around and stood face to face, (well, face to chest, actually) with a big goon.

"Hey, look who decided to come out of her hole. We've been looking for you."

The guy was smiling at her, but she wasn't about to take a chance.

So she ran.

"Hey, Connie, wait up!" Fulton stood there gazing at her retreating form, dumbstruck. "What…?"

"Dude, what happened?" It was Charlie who reached him first, along with Guy. The rest of the team was trailing nearby.

"I'm not sure." He turned his attention to them, confusion still etched in his face. "She just bolted."

"Then what are we doing, let's go!" Guy exclaimed impatiently. He took off in her direction, not waiting for an answer.

Connie ran as fast as her legs would take her. She was desperately trying to rack her brain as to why the guy would be chasing her. He couldn't possibly be an ex-boyfriend. He is so not my type! Irrational thoughts flit in and out of her head. Her logical conclusion: she owed him money, or something. He definitely seems the type. I mean, why else would I be associated with a guy like that, right? But then again, Adam never mentioned she had a gambling problem for her to be in a money problem like that.

Risking a backward glance, she was now vaguely aware that aside from the guy who grabbed her, there were at least ten more people chasing after. Great, he even got his own platoon. I can't possibly owe all of them money, can I?

"Yes!" Connie silently exclaimed as she neared the apartment. Please let Adam be here. Just please, let him be here. She burst through the building door and bit back a cheer as the object of her prayers turn around, obviously surprised. Adam was standing by the elevator door with a bag over his shoulders, waiting for a ride up.

"Hey, where'd you come from?" he asked pleasantly.

Never even bothering to answer, she flung herself behind him just in time for the mob to come bursting in.

"Connie, what was that-"

Everything suddenly grew silent. All of them wore an expression of shock on their faces.

"Cake-eater!"

She didn't notice Adam's expression mirroring the rest of them.

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