Sum
"Hey, so what's the difference between an emu and an ostrich?" Gibby asked. "I always thought they were the same thing, but then I realized they can't be, otherwise there would just be emus or just ostriches. Not both."
Sam, who had been sitting at her kitchen table across from Gibby, eating a pint of ice cream, and Freddie and Carly, who were loading the dishwasher, all frowned at him.
"Gibby, no one was talking about anything even remotely related to ostriches or emus," Freddie said.
"Yeah, I know," Gibby said. "But I wasn't really interested in your conversation about that new deli, so I decided to change the subject."
"Gibby, you're…something," Carly said, rolling her eyes.
Just then, there was a loud clasp of thunder.
"Oh man, it's really pouring out there," Sam said, looking out the kitchen window.
"Yeah, and according to my weather app, it's supposed to be like this until at least four in the morning," Freddie said, looking at his pearphone. "Carls, Gib, you can stay here if you want tonight. You probably shouldn't be driving home in this weather."
"Cool, thanks," Carly said.
"Man, I was supposed to run to bank real quick," Sam said.
"Why?" Gibby asked.
"Because Jason burned through all his money at school, and I was gonna put more in his debit account," Sam replied. "Now I have to do it online…crab, I don't remember my password to do that."
"I'll do it," Freddie said. "But seriously, you need to start picking passwords that you'll actually-"
But just then the lights flickered, and a second later they turned off completely.
"Well…that's great," Sam said.
"I'll call the power company," Carly said, pulling out her phone.
"I'll light some candles," Freddie said.
"And I guess I'll just never know the difference between and emu and an ostrich," Gibby said.
"Gibby!"
"Mom, the power's out!" Emma said, hurrying into the kitchen.
"Is it?" Sam said.
"We were right in the middle of a movie," Emma said. "What are we supposed to do for the rest of the night without technology?"
"Hey, I have a deck of cards," Freddie said, lighting a few candles. "I can teach you to play this game I learned awhile back at math camp. See, you deal everyone five cards, then you take the sum of-"
"Well, your power won't be back on until tomorrow," Carly said, hanging up her phone.
"Tomorrow?" Emma repeated.
"Hey, if I can survive one night without electricity, than you can," Sam said.
"Yeah, we can have some fun, I mean, we have everyone here," Freddie said. "We can tell stories, do arts and crafts, make sock puppets-"
Emma turned to Sam. "Am I being punished for something or what?"
"Emma, you know your dad's a dork, you should be used to him by now," Sam said. "Listen, there's a box of flashlights downstairs in the basement. Bring them up here, will you?"
"Okay," Emma groaned, turning to leave the kitchen.
"Why must you brainwash our kids into thinking I'm just some lame old dorky dad?" Freddie asked.
"Sorry, baby," Sam smiled, giving him a short kiss. "But come on, sock puppets? You walked right into that one."
"Well then somebody won't get to participate in the big puppet show we have," Freddie said.
"I think I can survive," Sam said as Freddie put his arms around her. "Besides, you'll make it up to me…won't you?"
"Yes I will," Freddie grinned.
"Okay, we are still in the room," Carly said loudly.
"Whose fault's that?" Sam said.
"Come on, let's go find a board game or something," Freddie said, rolling his eyes.
….
"According to your mom, Clarissa, the power won't be back on until tomorrow," Emma said, returning to the living room where her, Clarissa, Ashton, and Quincy had been watching their movie.
"Aw, and we were just about to get Mike Dillon's shirtless scene!" Ashton pouted.
"What a shame," Quincy said, rolling his eyes.
"Anyway, my mom wants you to go get that box of flashlights from our basement, Quincy," Emma said.
"She did not say that," Quincy said. "She probably told you to do it."
"Fine," Emma sighed. "At least help me."
"Alright," Quincy agreed. "Even though we both know I'll be lugging that box up by myself…"
"Aren't you smart, Gibson?" Emma smirked.
The two headed down to the basement.
"Alright, where are the flashlights?" Quincy asked Emma.
"I don't know," Emma said. "Look!"
"Alright, alright," Quincy said, shaking his head.
"They're probably in one of those boxes by the corner," Emma said, walking over. "I think I see-"
But suddenly, the basement door slammed shut.
"Whoa, it's pitch black in here!" Quincy commented.
"Aw, is wittle Quincy afraid of the dark?" Emma sneered.
"No! Just…just get the flashlights."
"Relax, I found them," Emma said, picking up one and turning it on. She tossed one over to Quincy. "Now get the box and bring it upstairs."
Quincy heaved the box up the stairs as Emma hurried up to the door. She turned the knob, and frowned as she realized that it was locked.
"Uh-oh…it's locked," Emma said.
"How's it locked?" Quincy said, his arms shaking from the weight of the box.
"This door's old," Emma said. "It looks on its own sometimes…" she pounded on the door. "Hey! We're locked in here! Hey!"
"And now my eardrum's busted," Quincy grimaced.
"I don't think they heard us," Emma sighed. "They're all probably in the living room playing some dorky board game."
"So we're stuck down here?" Quincy asked.
"Just when I thought this night couldn't get any worse," Emma sighed, heading back down and collapsing onto one of the old beanbag chairs.
"Well, I'm sure one of our parents will notice we're gone soon and come get us," Quincy reasoned, setting the box of flashlights down.
"But I'm bored," Emma moaned. She looked over at the boxes. "Hey, oranges!"
"Why do you guys have a box of oranges in your basement?" Quincy asked.
"My grandma was dating this citrus farmer last month…" she explained, scooping up some oranges. "This can entertain us."
"And how's that?"
"We can play Boomba!" Emma grinned.
"Boomba?" Quincy repeated.
"Yeah, it's this game my mom used to play with my dad all the time," Emma said. She tossed him three oranges. "Here, just take these, walk over there…"
"Um, okay," Quincy said. "So what's the point of this game?"
"You'll see," Emma said. "Just turn around."
"Alright, but I still don't think I get-" But he was interrupted by an orange, thrown by Emma, hitting him hard in the spine.
"Ow!" he exclaimed.
"Boomba!" Emma said loudly, laughing.
"That was the worst game ever!" Quincy said, getting to his feet, massaging his spine.
"Oh man up," Emma said.
"You really bruised my vertebrate, Emma," Quincy muttered.
"So you want to play again?"
"No!"
"Well then I'm back to being bored," Emma sighed. "Just my luck, I get trapped down here with a doof who's not even mildly entertaining."
"Hey, I'm plenty entertaining," Quincy defended, sitting down in the beanbag chair next to Emma. "You want me to tell you some of my famous knock-knock jokes?"
"Sure, but then you'll have to explain my dead body to my parents, because I'm pretty sure that would just about kill me," Emma replied.
"Ashton and Clarissa like my knock-knock jokes," Quincy mumbled, crossing his arms. "Too bad I couldn't at least get stuck in here with one of them."
"Ha-ha," Emma snapped. She leaned back in her seat and stared up at the ceiling.
"So, how long have we been down here now?" Quincy asked.
"I dunno, twenty minutes?" Emma muttered.
There was another clasp of thunder.
"Can it stop doing that?" Emma groaned.
"Oh that's right…you don't like thunder, do you?" Quincy said.
"What? I never said-"
"Come on, Em, I remember that from when we were kids," Quincy said, smiling a bit. "Whenever it used to thunder you would try to hide under a bed or couch or whatever."
"Well…thunder's annoying," Emma snapped.
"You know," Quincy said thoughtfully. "You didn't seem to even notice the thunder earlier. Maybe if you distracted yourself from it, it wouldn't bother you so much. We could play Boomba again if you want."
"I thought I bruised your spine or something," Emma said.
"Yeah, but I guess I could deal with a slightly messed up nervous system," Quincy shrugged. "I'll go get the oranges-"
"No," Emma said. "I'm not really in the orange-throwing mood."
"Oh, okay," Quincy said. He sat back down in his beanbag chair.
The two teens were silent for a moment.
"Um, thanks, though," Emma said after a minute. "For offering…I guess."
"Yeah, um, anytime," Quincy said.
Emma hugged her arms closer to her body. "Why'd the stupid power have to go out? It's freezing down here without the heat!"
"Here," Quincy said, taking off his sweatshirt and tossing it to her. "I'm not that cold. You can wear it if you don't mind all the 'doof' cooties."
"I don't really have a choice, do I?" Emma said, smiling as she pulled the sweatshirt on over her T-shirt.
"You know," Quincy said. "I guess maybe being stuck down here with you isn't the worst thing that could've happened to me. I mean, let's face it; if Ashton or Clarissa were down here, they'd probably be going on about some girly chiz the whole time."
"Yeah," Emma laughed. "I mean, Clarissa's my best friend, and well, I share my DNA with Ashton, but they can be a bit much sometimes."
Quincy chuckled. "Yup."
The two were silent for another moment.
"Um, and I guess your knock-knock jokes wouldn't actually kill me," Emma admitted. "Some of them are pretty funny. Like the one about the walrus and the nun; that one's pretty good."
There was another clash of thunder. Emma, caught off guard, gave a little jump, winding up right next to Quincy on his beanbag chair.
"You really don't like thunder, do you?" Quincy said.
Emma shook her head. "I hate it," she admitted.
She looked at Quincy, not realizing how close their faces were. Suddenly, he didn't seem like the weird kid she took pleasure in tormenting for most of her life, but the boy who had been her best friend for just as long…the boy who, suddenly, seemed like more than a friend.
She remembered all of those times her mom would tell her about how she finally got together with her dad after years or abusing and tormenting him.
"It was probably the best feeling ever," Sam had always told her. "It felt…right. But do not tell your dad that."
Without her even noticing, her and Quincy's faces seemed to move closer, until they were only about a few centimeters apart. And before Emma could even register the fact that she never took the time to realize just how green Quincy's eyes were, he had closed the gap between them, kissing her.
"Every time, even now, there are sparks there," Sam's voice echoed in her head as she felt Quincy's lips on hers. "Every time he kisses me. But seriously, you tell your dad this, and you are grounded until college."
Emma had usually pretended to gag at those words from her mother while Ashton had been the one who would continue to hound her for more romantic details. But suddenly…she got it.
Quincy pulled away from her after a minute, blushing furiously. He looked down at his feet. "Um…s-sorry."
Emma, who was trying to hold back a blush herself smiled. "It's cool."
….
"Ha! And now I'll just take five hundred bucks from you, Fredbat, for landing on my property," Sam said happily, grabbing a fake bill from her husband. "Oh look, that was the last of your money. Looks like your out."
"You're cheating," Freddie mumbled, crossing his arms moodily. "You should still be in jail! How'd you even get out?"
"Mama has her ways," Sam smirked.
"I wanted to just play charades," Carly sighed. "But noooo, no one wanted to listen to Carly."
"Hey, this candle's almost burned out," Gibby commented, pointing to one of the candles on the coffee table that was almost completely melted.
"Well I told Emma to get the flashlights forty-five minutes ago," Sam said. "Where is she?"
"Her and Quincy went to get them awhile ago," Clarissa said.
"What happened to them then?" Carly asked.
"You know what," Sam said. "I bet it was that stupid lock on the basement door; it sticks sometimes. I keep telling nubby over here to fix it-"
"When have I ever been good with tools, Sam?" Freddie said, rolling his eyes.
"See what I put up with?" Sam said, getting to her feet. She headed over to the door that led down to the basement and fiddled with the lock.
"Emma?" she called, opening the door. "Quincy? You down here?"
"Um, yeah, hi mom," Emma said, quickly getting to her feet.
"How long were you two down here?" Sam asked. "This whole time?"
"Yeah, we sort of got locked in," Quincy nodded.
"Why didn't either one of you call us?" Sam asked.
"We tried, but you didn't hear us," Emma said.
"I meant on your cell phones," Sam said. "You both have yours, don't you?"
"Oh," Emma said. "Forgot about that…Well, I'm gonna head upstairs and go through my socks…Quincy, come help me figure which ones I want to keep and which ones I want to donate to the elderly."
"Yeah, okay," Quincy nodded.
"Wait, why are you getting rid of your-" Sam started, but the two teens were already heading upstairs.
Sam frowned as she watched them head up. Was Emma wearing Quincy's sweatshirt?
