Sophia Aka Da~1, they do. I know this because my own brother got me pack. I roasted marshmallows over them that night. 2, everyone keeps on saying that. 3, I get that a lot. A surprisingly large amount, really. You've got Katie to thank for that. 4, Oh, good, no minions. Are you going to send me a subscription for a magazine? Because that would be very much appreciated.
Book Worm 2011~I like to keep 'em on their toes. You know, suspense and all that. It's a gift, really.
Nightflyer 18~ Uh…yeah. Sure.
desperately obvious ~ I don't do emotions. It will be awkward when the hardcore Fax rolls around.
I Suck at Usernames~I haven't, but my brother has. He and my cousin drove up to the beach and saw them. I about cried.
TMI~I did that on purpose. I hate how everyone always says its jewelry, because lets be honest, Max would probably use the 'delicate silver chain' to strangle Fang if he ever gave some to her. It always seems so OOC, you know?
I love you people. Really, my ego is happy.
"Let's all go and see Ski-let, let's all go and see Ski-let, let's all go and see Ski-let, because they're too cool for words!" I sang, doing some kind of weird pirouette/sashay/tap dance thing into the kitchen.
I don't dance, okay?
"Someone's cheery!" Mom smiled from above a skillet (GOING TO CONCERT GOING TO SEE THEM LIVE OH MY GOD YES) of scrambled eggs with cheese, jalapenos, and hot sauce. Oh, spicy Mexican breakfast, I love you so.
"And for good reason." Ella replied gloomily, sulking in. "That someone gets to see their favorite band live."
"Still bitter about missing the Black Eyed Peas, eh, sister dear?" I gloated, strutting over with a heaping plate of eggs, fat sausages, and a small, lonely orange slice. Fruits are highly underrepresented in my diet. I'm a carnivore at heart.
"Have you packed everything?" Mom suddenly asked, glancing at the solitary half-filled black duffel bag by the door. "You've remembered everything?"
"But of course," I replied, my mouth full of meat. "Have I ever forgotten anything important?"
Mom paused, then shuddered a little, probably reliving past memories.
"Yes." She answered bluntly. I pouted. "You have…pajamas?"
"The very best money can buy." I replied jauntily.
"Pants?"
"Ripped, faded, altogether low-quality. Just the way I like 'em."
"Shirt?"
"A Skillet one that I ordered from Taiwan."
"Sneakers?"
"What do you think?"
Mom sighed. "If you forgot anything…"
"Then I will take full responsibility for it," I promised.
Mom bit her lip. "Will you be responsible?"
"No drugs, no alcohol. Skillet is a Christian band, after all."
Mom still looked unsure. "Safe?" she asked eagerly. "How about safe?"
"Ms. Falkin will be there for everything but the concert and the 5-minute drive to and from it."
Ella was watching the exchange with a look of mild entertainment, her face whipping back and forth between us like it was a Pin-Pong match.
"You shouldn't let her go!" she whined. "It's not fair!"
"It's totally fair!" I replied. "After all," I added smugly, "I am two minutes older."
"Aargh!" Ella screamed, and stomped off to her room.
Mom stuck her head out of the kitchen door, looked left to right, and whispered, "Okay, it looks safe. Proceed to the Nick's."
Before she changed her mind, I yanked my duffel bag over my shoulder and went outside, making sure to slam the door and step as loudly as I could so that Ella would here. She yelled a few choice words from her room, and I yelled a few of my own back at her. Then, I smiled to myself and continued down the tree-lined lane. Well, as tree-lined of a lane you can get in Arizona.
When I arrived at N-Fang's, his mom seemed to be going through the same procedure mine had been. She was out of the work clothes I had seen her in, er, that night, and instead was wearing jeans and a cardigan with her hair in a ponytail. She just looked so motherly, it didn't even seem possible.
Fang (snicker, snicker) was in his typical, unvarying, bland black ensemble, and was leaning on the hood of a maroon car that seemed to be made almost entirely of duct tape.
"Fang!" I called indignantly, gesturing to the car. "If this was a movie, you would've had some kind of amazing jet-black convertible."
"If it was a movie, your hair wouldn't frighten a young child." He shot back.
"And if this was a movie, then you two would be madly and love and not be arguing incessantly." Ms. Falkin said tiredly. "Now get in the car."
We both complied, shoving our bags in the trunk and racing to get the bucket seat. I won, of course, as he did things the normal way while I slid over the hood of the car to get there. I stuck my tongue out at Fang, and he rolled his eyes.
"I get control of the radio since I'm driving you to Phoenix and paying for half of each of your tickets." She announced, jamming a pair of sunglasses on her face and backing out of their driveway. It seemed like a pretty fair trade to me; I cared even less when she turned to the station with all the classics. Once we reached the highway, even silent-but-deadly Fang was singing loudly along to 'Sing Us a Song, You're the Piano Man'.
I apologize to the people who had to hear that.
However, after an hour in the car, I had finally found a Zaxby's, thus ending the alphabet game, and beginning my descent into supreme boredom.
"Green one." I said unenthusiastically, giving Fang a noncommittal punch.
"There is not a single Volkswagen on the road." He complained.
"Shut up with your logic." I replied, irritated.
"I have an idea!" Ms. Falkin suddenly exclaimed brightly. "Let's sing, '99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall'!"
"NO!" Fang and I both screamed.
"At least I got you to agree on something." She grumbled in response.
This cycle repeated for two more dreadful, dull, excruciatingly painful hours.
Oh, joy.
"I don't believe it." I said in an awestricken voice, pushing my nose against the window glass in a futile attempt to see the top of the Phoenix, Arizona jagged skyline. "We actually made it.""Everyone still alive?" Ms. Falkin checked, peering at us through the rear-view mirror as she swooped the car to the front of the hotel.
"I am!" I exclaimed, bouncing in my seat.
"I'm not." Fang groaned, covering his eyes in a futile attempt to go back to sleep.
"Suck it up, Sleeping Beauty." I said, giving him a sharp jab in the ribs. He didn't even flinch, the booger-brained male he is.
"I'll check in, you guys put our luggage on a cart." Ms. Falkin directed, pointing to the luggage carriers off to the side.
"We only have three little bags," I pointed out.
"I'm too lazy to carry three bags, little as they may be. Get a carrier." Fang called from the car, where he was still struggling to get out of his chair in his half-asleep state.
As I looked around the lobby, I noticed we weren't the only teenagers loitering here. Two guys with identical, obviously dyed, black hair were talking in the corner. Three girls, one with red, one with brown, and one with blond hair were pushing each other around on the luggage carriers. A boy and two girls were inattentively perusing a rack of postcards in the corner.
One of the luggage-carrier girls smiled at me, and I waved weakly back. Then I remembered that she must be a Skillet fan, and the wave became much more enthusiastic.
"Interacting with the locals, are we?" Fang asked, having suddenly appeared behind me.
"Sure am." I replied happily.
"Such fun." He said sarcastically.
"Oh, would it kill you to be friendly for once?" I grumbled.
"I can be friendly!" He replied, offended. "Watch this."
He then proceeded to do that weird head-nod thing, the one for guys that are too cool for waving but that would like to acknowledge another's presence, to one of the phony-dark haired guys. He replied with one of his own.
"That was not friendly!" I scoffed. "Here, this is friendly."
I grabbed Fang's hand and dragged him over to the girls on the luggage carts. They stopped talking when they saw us come near, and just sort of stared.
"I'm Max." I said.
"Julia." Said the blond.
"Michelle." Said the brunette.
"Eleanor." Said the redhead.
Fang said nothing, so I elbowed him in the ribs. He remained silent.
"This is F-Nick." I said apologetically. "He's a tad bit-" I jabbed his arm again, hoping for a response but getting none, "-antisocial."
They didn't seem to mind at all, however, and merely giggled and waved, sending fleeting looks to each other.
Girls can be weird sometimes.
"Max! Nick!" Ms. Falkin suddenly called. "I love that you're making friends, but I would love it more if you carried the luggage!"
I whirled around and grabbed Fang's wrist, dragging him after me and shoving his bag into his hands. We stepped into the elevator, where Fang proceeded to turn and glare at me.
"I was being friendly!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air in exasperation.
He continued to glare.
"You're a dork." I said finally, and the elevator doors dinged open.
"Here we are, lady and gentle…guy! The very best the Marriot has to offer!" Ms. Falkin cried grandly, gesticulating to the white door labeled 257 once we had made it to the hall. "I get to swipe the card!" I exclaimed, snatching it from her hands and quickly jabbing it into the slot. The little light turned from red to green, and the door popped open. I immediately pushed through, dumping bags on the floor as I went, and finally collapsing headfirst onto a bed.
I made a nondescript sound of weariness, and Fang proceeded to shove me off of the bed and take the spot for himself.
"Let the games begin!" Ms. Falkin announced.
Yay! Now, wasn't that fun?
Don't lie, I know it was.
Did anyone notice before now how amazingly clever I was, taking the girls' names from Beatles songs? There's 'Julia' and 'Michelle', both from their songs of the same name (you know, now I sing a song of love for Julia and Michelle, my belle), and then 'Eleanor', from 'All the Lonely People' (Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice in the church where her wedding has been, lives in a dream! Waits at the window, wearing the…)
Ahem. I'll stop there before I type the whole song.
FUNNY STORY! I was eating those Beanboozled things where you have two jelly beans that look the same, but one is good and one is nasty, and I discovered my horribly bad luck. First, I had a booger, then a vomit that was supposed to be peach, then an earwax. Then, I got scared, and I made my friend eat one that looked the same when I ate it. It was some kind of nasty rhubarb/radish/rutabaga thing, and we ended up both gagging. I was the only one that actually barfed, though.
To be honest, it tasted better coming back out than it was going in. That's how nasty it was.
Okay, that was probably too much information, but I could care less.
HOWEVER, if you don't review, I will continue to post nasty stories after every chapter!
Trust me, I have quite the collection.