HI GUYS! Ack, I didn't think I'd be back so soon! hehe, I really like this chapter, although we do have a few ground rules I need to go over.

1. Alex is not emo, he's a middle child. Get it right or pay the price! ((remember Saulte Your Shorts?))
2. If you call Alex emo, unjustly unhappy, stupid - anything negative, I might just have to...be really mad at you.
3.Remember that none of these opinions of certain characters by any means reflect my personal views of England, or even New Jersey for that matter.
4. He's 8 (oo, that'll catch ya, right? ...nevermind) - his grammar and vocabulary cannot be expected to be perfect.
5. hoyeah, 'Star Wars poster on my bedroom door' does not come anywhere near "my territory", as you can plainly see. It's Everclear.
6. Alex says 'soccer' and 'Mom' because he was born and raised in America and that's how we doo it here, you crazy foreigners :P
7. Oh! The Places You'll Go! is Dr. Seuss. Also not mine. And yes it DOES take that long to read three Dr. Seuss books, especially if they're being read by an 8 year old who isn't such a hot reader.
8. I repeat: be nice to Alex in your reviews.

Chapter Thirteen, Stupid

"I want the things that I had before,
like a Star Wars poster on my bedroom door.
I wish I could count to ten,
make everything be wonderful again," -'Wonderful', Everclear

July fifteenth. Alex stared at the calendar, at that date. Circled in red. That meant a birthday. His birthday. Birthdays were always circled in red so his dad would remember to get up early and make special breakfasts and stuff, and his mom would get up early and decorate.

Alex looked around. No Dad. No Mom. No Special Breakfast. No Decorations. Nothing. Not even a 'happy birthday!' from his Mom on her way out the door. She'd even taken Damon and Emma with her. Again.

Damon would've remembered. If he were here. But he wasn't. Cause he got to go out and Alex didn't.

Alex sulked around the house for most of the morning, hoping the wind would change or something like that. Hoping someone would remember. He wondered what they thought about him while he wasn't there, what they really thought about him. Maybe they forgot cause they just didn't care enough to remember. He was only turning eight, what's the big deal about eight? It's not double-digits, he's not going off to Hogwarts, he's not a teenager or schoolage. He was just in the middle.

Alex always hated being in the middle, he liked being off to the side. He liked being noticed on his birthday.

He sulked back into the kitchen after lunch - people had been so preoccupied the last few days, no one but him had even glanced at the calendar. Mia had just acted like it was any old day, and Mike had been too busy fussing over Julia (who'd decided, because of the day, to be especially annoying) to notice Alex at all.

Izzy was intent on going to the playground this afternoon, but Alex was intent on sulking. He knew that people would just ignore him if he sulked, and that was sort of not what he wanted...he wanted attention. He wanted someone to realize what they'd all done. He wanted his Mom to come home. And his Dad.

He hated the move. He wanted to go home. He hated stupid England, stupid school, stupid magic. What was wrong with the way things were? Why'd they have to leave? There was nothing wrong. He missed his friends and his school, and even being left behind by Damon and Emma. He wanted to go back, to tell his parents that he didn't care about magic - he wanted to go to sports camp. He'd finally been old enough for sports camp last year and now he doesn't get to go anymore! He loved playing soccer and all that other stuff - but especially soccer.

Alex decided that it was boring and dark inside, so he took his silent laments outside. He liked observing people, thinking about who they are and where they're from, and how they'd react if he told them his family forgot his birthday. And that he couldn't see his friends anymore, at all.

There was one particular man he found interesting. He looked weird. He walked so it looked like he was taller than he really was, and he had a cane even though he wasn't that old. His hair was really long and all white, longer than any man's Alex had ever seen - he thought the man looked funny. And the way he walked just made Alex want to giggle, but he was too caught up in his sulking to smile, so he just watched.

He knew that if he told that man about his birthday, he probably wouldn't even respond. He looked so caught up in...whatever was on his nose, that he didn't look like he noticed anything else. So it surprised Alex when the weird man turned down his walkway, and looked at him.

Alex sat up a little straighter, stopped sulking, and just stared back with an indifferent expression on his face. The man looked at him, then looked around him, and then he started walking towards Alex. Alex couldn't believe it - who was he? As he got closer, Alex still couldn't reognize him.

"Hello," the man said when he finally stopped in front of Alex's seat on the front steps.

"Hi," Alex replied. He knew he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers, but Mia was just inside and she wasn't paying attention to him...and this man wasn't scary, he was just weird.

"Is your father home?" He asked evenly.

"No." Alex looked at him, and decided his original assessment was right - this man was weird. The man looked around,

"Well then is your mother home?"

"No." The man just looked at him with a weird look Alex couldn't identify. Kind of the same way Emma looked when she was looking at broccli, but a little different. "Why do you look like that?" He asked. The man looked surprised,

"Excuse me?" The man asked, another weird look on his face.

"You kind of look like Emma looks when she's looking at broccli," he explained. "but not really."

"Oh? And what do I look like?"

"I dunno. Kind of like her, but different. Do you not like me?" Alex asked curiously.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, cause Emma doesn't like broccli, and you're kinda looking like her. Maybe it's cause you don't like me." He said fairly.

"It would be unfair of me to make a decision about you before I even know your name." The man said in the same way his dad used to talk about some of the customers at the diner he definitely didn't like. Alex realized that this man really didn't like him much.

"My name's Alex."

"Alexander?" The man asked.

"Well, yeah, but nobody but my dad calls me that." He said, rolling his eyes. He hated being called Alexander.

"If that's your name, it's what you should be called." The man said with a smirk. THAT was something Alex could recognize. His dad did it all the time. Sometimes he even got yelled at for it by his mom. Alex couldn't help but giggle at the man's familiar smirk. He raised an eyebrow - another thing Alex's dad did, which just made Alex giggle more.

After a few minutes, Alex realized the man wasn't laughing, even though he seemed like he wanted to, almost. Alex stopped giggling and looked up at him.

"Why are you out here all alone?" the man asked. Alex looked up at him. Usually when someonecame out to try and make him feel better(and this seemed to happen to him a lot), they'd sit next to him. But not this man - he just stood there, waiting. Alex looked around behind him, thinking there might be someone else there, and that's why the man wasn't sitting down, but he didn't see anyone. And then he remembered his sulking, and so he began sulking again, shrugging a little bit to answer his question.

The man cleared his throat and Alex looked up. He looked like Emma again, with the broccli.

The man straightened his robe and stood up straighter. He looked really angry, and he almost said something, but Alex was too wide-eyed with surprise at his initial anger that he stopped paying attention for a second.

"Do you know when your father will be home? I need to speak with him." Alex, still wide-eyed, just shook his head.

"You should reply when someone speaks to you." The man instructed, obviously frustrated. Alex gulped.

"Ok." Was all he could say. The man looked really angry now.

"Yessir," he corrected.

"Huh?"

"You should address your elders as 'sir'." He said, getting madder.

"Um...ok." Why? That didn't make a whole lot of sense in Alex's head. The only time he'd ever heard 'sir' was when he was watching G.I. Joe reruns. And he only ever used it when he was playing with his G.I. Joes.

"I suppose I'll just have to return at some point when your parents are home." The man just looked at him with a very angry look, looked up at his house and walked away. Alex watched him go and was bewildered at the man's response. He'd been right. He hadn't even known this man, but he'd been right! That made him feel a little better. Even if he hadn't exactly told him that his family forgot his birthday and everything, he knew from the way the man acted in all the other times that he wouldn't have cared.

Alex watched the empty street - in New Jersey, during the summer, there was always somebody walking by. Not in stupid England. Nobody ever walked down the street here. Stupid street.

He quickly got bored without the man there, and he retreated into the house, up to his new room. He hated his new room. He left his Star Wars poster on his old bedroom door - his dad had offered to bring it, but that was his bedroom! Even though he stayed in it all alone when everyone else got to share a room with someone. He liked his Star Wars poster and he missed it. It wouldn't fit in in stupid England anyway. It didn't belong here.

He sulked on his bed and stared at his blank door. He still had his own room. And when Damon went off to school this year and his Aunt Mia and Uncle Mike left, the house would be even MORE empty. He didn't understand why everyone had to leave all of a sudden. He thought it was stupid.

Alex sat there for longer than he thought he could, until he heard some yelling from downstairs. He was curious and so he went to the stairs and sat on them, looking down at the front door through the bars.

"Oooohhh! I can't believe it!" His Aunt Mia screamed. He saw his mom walk in behind Damon and Emma, but then she was followed by some lady and his dad. He smiled - he hadn't seen his dad in forever!

"Dad!" He cried softly, a smile creeping across his face. Surely his dad would realize it was July fifteenth. He stood up and jumped down the rest of the stairs, landing gracefully on the wood floor. Izzy and Julia had beaten him, though. Of course - they were littler, faster, and had been closer to start. So he waited his turn and gave his dad a hug.

After he did he looked up and smiled at his dad. He looked way different. Almost like one of the zombies from Scooby Doo, but not really. A little more human than that, but kinda like that. He looked really really tired.

Alex didn't say any of this, cause he didn't want to make his dad feel bad or say something wrong, but he wished they could just go back to New Jersey now. It was so much better there. He didn't care why his dad was home, he just knew that now his family was whole again, so they could leave.

As time went on, Alex realized that no one was going to remember his birthday. There was a celebration, that was for sure. But it wasn't for him. It was for his dad, and that weird lady that Emma kept talking to. They looked like friends.

So after dessert he went back up to his room, sulking. He put on his PJs without being asked, brushed his teeth and went tothe bathroom without being asked. He even pulled out three bedtime stories before he climbed up onto his new bed and started to try and read them.

He'd never been a terrific reader, but tonight he was determined to go to bed without anyone's help. They didn't notice him so he wasn't gonna bother with them either. He knew they'd probably just think he was a 'good little boy' for going to bed on his own. Which just made him madder.

As he was trying to read Oh! The Places You'll Go! he gave up. He threw the book on the floor and pushed his other two books on the floor. He couldn't read the stupid made-up words and he didn't want to anymore. Reading was stupid, England was stupid, birthdays were stupid, families were stupid, strange men were stupid...he couldn't help but think he was stupid, too.

But he wasn't the one who'd forgotten his birthday.

He climbed under the covers and closed his eyes, but he couldn't fall asleep. He laid there for what felt like hours - everyone was probably already in bed - before he heard his door crack. He opened his eyes but laid staring at the wall. He felt someone sit on his bed but he still didn't move.

"Hey," his dad said softly. "You alright?" Alex didn't answer, but he did turn over. His dad was smiling, as much as he ever did. He still looked like a zombie.

"When can we go home?" He asked sadly. His dad closed his eyes and hung his head before looking back up at him.

"This is our home now."

"But this place is stupid!"

"Alexander," his dad said warningly, "what have I told you about saying that?" Alex rolled his eyes.

"You said not to call stuff stupid anymore."

"This place isn't stupid, it's just different. We just have to get used to something different." His dad said evenly.

"But I don't want anything different! I want my Star Wars poster!" He exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Alexander, we can buy you a new poster."

"I don't want a new poster! I want to go home!" He yelled. "I hate this place! I hate this stupid world and these stupid people! I hate this house! I hate England and I hate --" Alex stopped himself just in time. He almost said 'birthdays', but that would've given it all away. He couldn't just come out and say it. If they didn't notice, that was their own stupid fault. His dad didn't respond for a long while. After a few moments of awkward silence that Alex really didn't want to break, his dad finally reached out and pulled him in.

His dad gave out hugs sometimes, but he didn't ever hold someone. Well, sometimes he did, but only if they were really upset. Alex leaned in and rested his head on his dad'sshoulder trying not to cry. He couldn't help it though, he was so tired and things were so different and he just wanted to go home. He started to cry and his dad just moved back so they were all on his bed, instead of just on the edge. And Alex cried into his dad's shoulder as he sat there with his long arms around him.

After a few minutes, Alex started to calm down a little bit, began to sniffle.

"Alex," his dad said quietly. Which was weird. Cause his dad NEVER called him 'Alex'.

"Uh huh?"

"What else do you hate?" He asked. Alex remembered his birthday.

"Birthdays." He said, starting to cry again. His head was starting to hurt a lot, but he didn't care. He couldn't help it. He didn't want to cry - boys don't cry. His dad never cried. But he was so tired...

"Why do you hate birthdays?" His dad asked.

"Cause they're stupid." Alex sniffled. "They're stupid and I hate them! It doesn't matter."

"If it matters to you, it matters." his dad said, holding him a little tighter. Alex sat up straight and looked at his dad's face. He didn't look like a zombie as much anymore, even though he still did. He wiped his cheeks off and just sat on his dad's lap, looking up at him. It almost felt like his dad was waiting for him to say something. He didn't want to give in, but he couldn't help it - he couldn't hide from his dad.

"I didn't get a special breakfast." He muttered.

"What?"

"I didn't get a special breakfast." He muttered again, trying not to look up at his dad.

"You didn't get a special breakfast?" He asked. Alex nodded slightly, trying not to sound too dumb. There was silence for a moment before his dad blew out a deep breath.

"Aw, Alex..." he started. "I'm sorry."

"S'ok. Doesn't matter." He shrugged, wiping his cheeks and sniffling.

"Hey, I said that if it mattered to you that it mattered." Alex just shrugged again. "It is a big deal." His dad assured him. "Happy Birthday, Alex." Alex looked up at him and sniffled again. He looked like he did when he really meant something.

"Thanks," Alex mumbled.

"I wasn't home this morning, but I'll make you a special breakfast tomorrow, ok? And I'll put up the decorations myself - you'll be the first one to have a birthday in our new house, how about that?" Alex thought about it - he'd never been the first of anything. It sort of made up for the fact that his birthday was really today.

Slowly but surely he nodded.

"Ok." He said.

"I'm really proud of you, you know. You got ready for bed all by yourself." His dad said matter-of-factly. Alex almost smiled,

"Thanks," he said.

"You know, Emma could never do that. Or Damon, either." His dad whispered. Alex looked up hopefully.

"Really?" His dad just nodded. Alex felt a large sense of accomplishment - Damon and Emma couldn't even do what he'd done. Except he hadn't finished. "Well," he confessed, "I couldn't finish reading. I hate those stupid books." He pointed to the floor, which was now littered with three books.

His dad picked them up and looked them over.

"Do you want me to help you? I think you can do it." Alex looked up at him, unsure, but decided it was worth a shot.

Fourty-five minutes later they finished up and Alex yawned. He'd let his dad read the last book the whole way through cause he was really tired. He leaned on his dad's shoulder and looked up at him.

"Hey Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we have waffles tomorrow?"

"Sure, anything you want."

"I want waffles."

"Alright then, waffles it is."

"Hey Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." He said as he laid back down under his covers and closed his eyes.

He couldn't see his dad smile, because his eyes were closed. And he couldn't hear his dad whisper "I love you," because he was already asleep...