A/n Yeah, I know it's late. Want an excuse? Go to my lj Ivymurtz...
I so hated dressing up. What was the point in it? It just made it harder to go about doing things normal people had to do. But I suppose the people who generally dress up a lot have people to do the housework for them.
I was wearing a beautiful dress, if I do say so myself. No, that's what my dad said. I thought I looked HOT. Da, of course, would NEVER say that about anyone except mom, but because she died when I was born, He doesn't say it at all anymore.
I was wearing a black v-neck dress, which went to my knees, and was slightly tight until it reached the skinniest part of my waist then was all flowy. My black high-heels were uncomfortable. All they did was make my butt look smaller and make it harder to run away. But I love the dress. It made me want to twirl and see the magnificent flow of the dress… so I did. Right as we were arriving to the Uchiha residence next door. And they were answering the door.
Of course I tripped. I'm clumsy. I'm only graceful when running. I fell right into Da, who in turn did a funny jig to catch his footing. Sasuke looked at us oddly. Of course he would. Who wouldn't? It was the start of a very…….. memorable night.
The people who decided my doom- Sasuke's parents, whose names escape me- smiled widely and led us towards a stretch limo. Yes. A FRIGGIN STRETCH LIMO!! I sat in the back, with Itachi and Sasuke, whom were sitting on either side of me.
Can you say awkward? I felt like a crow in a flock of doves. And not one of those cool ones from The Birds where they were pecking out eyeballs- no. one of those annoying ones that wake you up at 5:00 in the morning on Saturday.
Itachi was mumbling something about a kids table as we entered. Kids table? In a restaurant this fancy? Nooo way. No friggin way.
But of course. For whatever reason- Ms. Doom sat us 3 at a smaller table, saying something about bonding. Why couldn't we bond at a big table with the rest of the adults?
A waiter came by and gave us menus. I looked at my favorite number-21. Spaghetti. Awesome.
When the waiter came back to take our orders we- coincidentally- ordered the same thing.
When he left we sat in utter silence. It was awkward. So I fished around in my purse for a moment and pulled out a battered old set of cards. Those cards had helped me ignore awkward times and gosh dangit, they're going to now too!
I shuffled the cards like the pro I was. I had grown up on playing the best game in the world with my Da.
21.
Blackjack.
I looked around and glanced at Itachi and Sasuke. They were eyeing me suspiciously.
"Hn."
It was his trademark phrase, and it irritated me to death.
"What ARE you doing?" Itatchi asked. He didn't sound rude- just a bit worried we'd get caught acting so childish.
I had a bit of trouble reading his lips, but I could make it out.
"We're sitting at a child's table- we may as well act like a child. Anyone up for a game of blackjack?"
Sasuke smirked.
"You know it . Best game on earth." I couldn't believe it. Sasuke liked blackjack?? Oh yeah!
I smirked. Itatchi nodded.
"I deal." Itatchi you are going to be my bestest friend!!
After playing several games, our orders came, and our waiter looked at us like we were some kind of vermin. Puh-lease. Like you could pull of this dress, Mr. Lemon- Lime suit. Honestly, who wears neon yellow and green in a suit? He glared. I glared right on back.
We started betting breadsticks after that. I could swear- I saw Sasuke smile! Several times in fact! Ahh. His lips were so pretty. The things I noticed first on a person were Do they enunciate, and wither their lips and noses are pretty or not. As much as people might think otherwise, noses are actually important on the pretty factor. Right. Getting off topic. I seem to do that a lot.
By the time we got back in the limo to go home, Itatchi, Sasuke and I were talking and joking like old friends. That was the most fun I had dressing up, too. I was busy bordering the line of obsessive about Sasuke, when I realized it was then that I realized the window across from mine in the mansion was his room. I had figured this out because well, I hate to admit it but he almost beat me more times than I beat him. Itatchi wasn't so bad, either. But his room had been wallpapered with dark playing cards. Yes. You heard me right. Wallpapered. It was cool. My room was splatter painted and had been painted over with paintings of whatever I felt. Unicorn broken hearts, you name it. It looked awesome.
Da and I left the limo, feeling wiped out. There was no school tomorrow, and I was grateful. After hanging with Sasuke while Itatchi went to complain to the adults about the table I learned that the only friends had made were Naruto Ino and I. So, naturally, I invited him over to hang out tomorrow with Naruto Ino and I. Only, I forgot to ask.
THE WINDOW! Of course! I was, after all, a master at making paper air-planes. I quickly wrote a note, and flew it over. Just as he was walking by the window, it sailed in and hit him in the head, earning me a loud,
"WTF??"
At least I thought that's what I thought he said. I was too far away to tell.
Talk about perfect timing.
He uncrumpled it, and looked towards me out of his window. He scribbled something back, and I caught it with one hand, after he re-folded it.
In spidery scrawl, it read,
Sure. The blonde Dobe gonna be there?
I want to squash him at 21.
I scribbled back,
Yup. And Ino.
But I warn you, He's a master.
He's teaching me to count cards, so when we're old enough, we can go to Vegas and cash in. CHA- CHING!
He already knows how.
When he got it, he looked into my eyes, smiled, nodded, turned off the light, and went to bed, fully clothed.
I stood there gaping.
His smile was so…. CUUUTE! And his eyes. And he wasn't smiling about winning, he has smiling about hanging out with me! (And Naruto, and Ino.) At ME!
I closed the curtains, got my PJs on, and laid down to sleep.
I decided I didn't hate him.
Too much.
A/N- I absolutely ADORE Blackjack. So I had to put it in. I- unfortunately- have NOT seen 21 yet. I suck at updating. I'm sorry. I'm a natural procrastinator.