Author's Note: Sorry to all of our wonderful readers who have been patiently waiting for this chapter. It was Dal's turn to write and after nagging and nagging her we finally decided to hold her an intervention on AIM. Ava and myself (Evie) had come up with a lot of sweet ideas in a brainstorming session (Dal wasn't there) and when we told Dal she decided she was going to wing it in third person. We warned her that she would be . . . angry if she wrote in third person but she ignored us. So being the good friends we are we decided that Ava was going to write this chapter and I was going to edit . . . behind Dal's back using all of our kick ass ideas. So Dal posted her version of chapter 5 but here's our version. THIS IS THE REAL VERSION OF CHAPTER 5!!! CHAPTER 6 WILL CONTINUE ON FROM THIS!!! Anyways enjoy!!
PS: Dal if you're reading this . . . oh crap.
Chapter 5: A Rental Tux and a Butterfingers
Disclaimer:
Emmett, or to me, myself,
Wants to take this topic off the shelf.
Stephenie Meyer created me,
From her complicated mental tree,
I'm good at sports, not just a few,
So read this chapter made for you,
By Ava, Dahl and Evie as well,
Who hope you think this story's swell.
But please bear in mind as you do,
These are Steph Meyer's characters through and through.
EPOV
I didn't even see the idiot yet, and I could already tell that it was going to be the worst date (and probably the worst day) of my existence. Shoot me now, I thought. Oh, wait… that won't kill me. Damn it.
To make matters worse Emmett was trailing behind us with Alice and Jasper with a video camera of course. This was going to forever haunt me.
I waited at a bus stop for Mike to come pick me up. Or, at least I thought he was picking me up. But nooo. When he showed up (apologizing for being 30 seconds late…. wow.) there was no car in sight. But I was almost too distracted to notice. My date… *shudder*… was wearing a tuxedo (for dinner at a Mexican joint and a movie… what the hell?) with a heart-shaped box of Swedish chocolates tucked under one arm, and a dozen roses in the other hand. I had to fight with every brain cell I had to not run away screaming.
MPOV
My mom was totally right. I must've looked h-o-t in that tux, because the look on Edwina's face said, Wow, that's hot! (A/N: In a Paris Hilton voice)At first I thought not being able to use the car would be a turn off, but then I figured, hey, at least I'd be a little more in close quarters to Edwina, if you catch my drift. It's the perfect time to work my magic.
EPOV
Did he really just think that? "Work my magic?" What the hell am I supposed to do with that? God help me. Oh, and Emmett, be afraid, very afraid.
"Sorry we have to take the bus," Mike said, "but my mom's still doesn't trust me with the car."
"Oh, that's… fine," I forced myself to say. Honestly, I wasn't surprised. Who would be?
"Besides, we're saving the environment!" he cheered, pumping his fist in the air. Oh Christ, he's an environment freak. That would happen.
"Yay," I replied in a flat tone.
"Here are some roses, and some chocolates."
"Thanks, Mike, that's so… er, Mike?" I asked as I opened the lid on the heart-shaped box.
"Yes, Wina?"
"Wina, damn." Emmett muttered under his breath, too quietly for human ears to pick up on. He was so dead.
I tried to shrug off the fact that he'd created a pet name for me. Wina, for God's sake. Could you make it sound more like wiener if you wanted to?
"Why are half of the wrappers in here empty?"
"Oh, er… I sort of… got hungry on the walk over here. Gotta give the guns some fuel, am I right?" he replied, flexing his bicep.
What guns? Emmett, Alice, and Jasper all thought at the same time.
"Yeah… sure." Not.
"Plus," he added, "I didn't want all of those chocolates to ruin your perfect complexion. And I have what the ladies call magic skin. Never a pimple in sight," he commented, stroking his cheek. Wow, this boy doesn't know when to stop.
"Thanks? I, er… appreciate it."
"Cool," he replied as the smelly chunk of metal that was supposed to pass as a bus pulled up, "Let's go."
He grabbed my hand (Patience, Edward, patience) and led me up the stairs onto the bus with my brothers and sisters in tow.
The bus smelled like a mix of urine and vomit. Come on, I know I have a keen sense of smell but can he seriously not smell that? I looked at Mike; he seemed unfazed.
"This one's on me," Mike said, pulling some change out of his pocket, "don't worry about it."
"Err… thanks," I replied as we took a seat. What a gentleman. Pshhh.
"Sure. So, are you excited to eat at Nacho Bueno?" (A/N: If this is a real restaurant, we weren't aware of it.)
"Yeah, I, uhm, love Mexican food." I hate all human food. It tastes like dirt, I thought. Mike on the other hand, was thinking I hope all those beans don't make my digestive system act up… Great. Just great. Another reason to tear Emmett apart and burn the pieces slowly.
I quickly glanced back at my brothers and sister to see the lens of the video camera poking out from Emmett's backpack pointed directly at Mike and I. It looked like it was off but I wouldn't have such luck.
Mike interrupted my thoughts by saying, "Awesome. What movie do you want to see? If you want to see that new sad movie about the girl whose parents and siblings all died and then she got lost at sea, we can. I have a perfect shoulder for you to cry on. Well, once I take off the tux's jacket. This baby's a rental," he said, brushing off his shoulder.
"I'd actually rather see that horror movie about the mental patient who works in the chainsaw factory, if that's okay."
"Yeah, sure. Sounds… great." Crap, Mike thought, what if I get nervous and throw up on her. I mean I won't do it on purpose. Edwina's a keeper, but last time I went to see a scary movie with my mom, Attack of the Daisies, I got so nervous for little Jane I barfed on the seat in front of me, which just happened to be occupied by a really buff dude with lots of tattoos. Thanks to my years of experience of running away from bullies and my mom's help I made it out of there alive. Barely.
Oh. My. God. The scene in Mike's head was hilarious. I started to laugh but had to turn it into a cough to cover it up.
Suddenly, a mind in the bus thought, I'm gonna be sick. I looked up just in time to see a dirty homeless man attempt to stumble to the front of the bus, probably aiming for the trashcan next to the driver. But the bus lurched as we turned right, and the man fell into my date's lap. As the man got back up, he tried to mutter "Sorry," but didn't have time. He gagged and tossed his lunch into Mike's lap. I tried to look sympathetic, but that lasted all of three seconds before I cracked up.
Mike stood up, and then dropped to his knees in the middle of the bus, yelling in agony, "NOOOO!! THIS WAS A RENTAL!!! AHHH!!!"
I was in hysterics, doubled over as I read his thoughts. Mom's gonna have a hissy fit! She paid good money so I could look snazzy on my date!!! I'll have to scrape her corns for weeks to get her back to her usual happy self! Why!?!? Then again, corn-scraping is kinda fun…
The bus made a puffing noise and abruptly stopped. The driver announced that it was out of gas. Perfect, just perfect, I thought. We stepped out, and Mike attempted to shake off the hobo barf from his jacket. As I stood there waiting for him to realize that he would never get it all off that way, an elderly man stepped off the bus and walked over. He gave me a one-over, tilted his chin up, and said in a creepy voice with a Southern accent, "How you doin'?" I grabbed Mike by the elbow and yanked him inside up the street before the old man tried to "bust a move."
Emmett, Alice, and Jasper were in hysterics.
Don't worry "Wina" we got a perfect shot of that dude puking on Mike. Emmett thought. That dress I put you in is so hot. Alice thought.
Ha ha, Mike thinks he's in love. This is too good. Jasper thought.
"How far until Nacho Bueno?" I asked.
"About two miles or so," he replied, "I can carry you, if you want,"
Before I could even attempt to protest, Mike tied his soiled jacket around his waist, grabbed me around the middle, and hoisted me up over his shoulder. He only got about six steps before my attempts to kick him where the sun don't shine and screaming of "RAPE!!!" worked. Either that, or he was too weak to carry me any further. I think it was a combination of both, from his thoughts: Keep going, man. Remember what your therapist said about visualizing yourself as a superhero when the going gets tough. C'mon Macho Mike!! You can do it!! You… can do it. You can… do it? You can't… do it… ugh…
MPOV
I know Wina actually liked it when I carried her. Maybe she was worried about her dress riding up for the whole world to see. Macho Mike was okay with it; that's for sure.
EPOV
After he put me down, we walked for about another mile or so before "Macho Mike" started complaining.
"My feet hurt," he whined, "These shoes were not made for walking two miles."
"You want me to carry you?" I sneered, mocking his earlier behavior.
Apparently, Mike Newton doesn't understand sarcasm. With a running start, he leapt onto my back. Holy crap!! I know I had super strength but seriously, this dude was HEAVY! For God's sake I was wearing heals and a damn dress!!! Alice had shoved me into a yellow sundress that fell to my knees with thick white straps and a thick white border at the bottom. (A/N: Pic on Profile!) Just perfect for carrying a lump of lard or Mike . . . practically the same thing.
As we walked by most people's thoughts were somewhere along the lines of Is that he-she in a dress seriously carrying that dude? Ah well, maybe the Gay Pride Parade is in town. Although I was greeted my many strange looks and weary eyes no one dared to approach myself or Mike because of the murderous glare on my face and the muscles on my arms.
Mike was oblivious to all of the odd looks, either that or used to it, and in turn was singing I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts in his head.
So I ended up carrying him the other mile until we (thank God) reached Nacho Bueno, where I "accidentally" dropped him on the sidewalk.
"Oops," I said, "Sorry. But you know me. Butterfingers." I spoke with a dead tone and a blank look on my face.
"No, er, that's okay," he replied, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up. "Accidents happen."
Mike was really thinking . . . Oh my God, my head!! My god damn head! She's killed me! THE INTERNAL BLEEDING HAS BEGUN!!! I HAVEN'T KISSED A GIRL YET! I NEVER TOLD MY MOM HOW MUCH I REALLY LOVED HER! I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO WATCH THAT OPRAH EPISODE ON TOMORROW ABOUT CHINESE BEAUTY PRODUCTS!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Wow, can you spell drama queen?
"Yeah, accidents do happen." I said with a smirk.
Then we stepped inside the dirty hole in the wall that was Nacho Bueno. It was dark and musty in there, and there were three main requirements of being a server 1) you must have more hair than the average baboon 2) you must be older than the cast of Full House, all put together and 3) you must look like a child molester. Yep, Mike fits right in. Not to mention the fact that every item on the menu had lard galore. So when Mike ordered a Mega Bean Burrito (God save us all…) and I ordered a cheese quesadilla (which I later planned to upchuck… human food = repulsive to vampires), I knew I was just in for a treat. Not.
The food arrived, after much awkward small talk and Mike attempting to hit on me. "Have you got something in your eye?" he asked. I was about to say something but he beat me to the punch. "Oh wait, it's a sparkle." Much to my dismay, lines like that continued on for the rest of the night.
When he was about half way through that huge chunk of lard with beans falling out of it, the farting began. Oh, God, the farting. For the first time in a hundred years, my eyes watered. Is that even possible? Vampires aren't supposed to cry! New life lesson: science is a bitch.
MPOV
I know my digestive system tends to be a little on the quick side, so when I started tooting it up in the middle of my dinner with Edwina, I was unsurprised. I just tried to pretend nothing had happened. She didn't seem to notice. In fact, she seemed happy. So happy, in fact, that her eyes were tearing up with tears of joy.
Ooh, I thought, I hope she didn't hear that one.
EPOV
I totally heard that one. And I definitely smelled it too. That was the last straw (and the last bite of quesadilla). I got up, excused myself, and proceeded to the bathroom. After I went inside a stall, I immediately got rid of my dinner, cussing out my family in my head and thinking of 637 ways to get revenge on them. I could burn Alice's clothes, I thought, trying to block out all other people's mental remarks. Or disconnect the TV. That'd get Emmett going.
When I was finished in the bathroom I made my way back to our table where Mike sat. He seemed nervous and his thoughts were confusing me. Come on Mike just say it. She's totally into you and she needs your help. Be a man. I swear to God if he kisses me I'll . . . but my thoughts were cut short when Mike suddenly said,
"You can tell me if you're bulimic, Wina. I can get you help," he said gently, reaching for my hand. I yanked it away.
Wait . . . what? Bulimic . . . oh hell no. That bastard was listening to me in the bathroom?
"Wait, why were you listening to what I was doing in the bathroom!? What the hell were you expecting to hear!?"
MPOV
Aw damn.
Author's Note: That chapter was written by the one and only Ava!! Hope ya liked it!!!!! Please review to let us know what you think!!! All of your reviews make our day!!!! Sounds corny but true. The more reviews we get the faster we'll write! Hint, hint. Wink, wink. Have a great day!
Love Always,
Evie, Ava, and Dal