I'm crying. Why? I wrote out this chapter that was nice and pretty then I FRICKING DELETED THE WINDOW. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?! I'M GONNA MURDER MYSELF. AHHHHHHHHHH. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to type the entire chapter again and respond to the reviews. I started at six and ended at eleven, and now it's just fugging GONE. I'm so sorry, but I want you guys to know that I loved every review and I loved knowing your favorite fruits.
Question of the day: What is your biggest pet peeve?
Love ya!- AcademicGirl
Tess's POV
"How do you do that so easily?" Matt asks.
"I'm pretty sure I was on the diving team for a while," I say, approaching him. "You want to try again?"
"Yeah." He climbs the sand dune we made for the seventh time. "Seventh time's a charm, yeah?"
I laugh. "Yeah." I am so scared he's going to crack his head open and break his shoulder or shatter his patella, but so far he hasn't landed on anything perilous. Besides, this is sand. He probably won't get hurt landing on it. Right?
He jumps off with his back facing me, and flips in the air. He lands on his feet at first, but he falls and lands on his butt.
"That was pretty good, Matt!" I say, offering a hand to help him up. "We just have to work on your landing and you'll be an amazing back-flipper in no time, yeah?"
He laughs and brushes the sand off his trunks. "I really love the beach," he says.
It's been seven weeks since Matt's surgery, so he's allowed to do water activities again and get some stuff crossed off the MSBL. We were planning to do some things on our honeymoon, but I guess he got too impatient. (I'm in denial; Matthew just wants to do it before he...goes.)
A boy around six years old waddles to us and points at Matt's chest. "Mithter," he says, lisping, "what'th that on your chetht?"
Matthew stoops down to reach the boy's height. "Some doctors put a machine in me to help my heart work better."
"Why?" the curious child ask. "Do the doctorth think you're a robot?"
Matt chuckles. "No, they just want me to live."
"My grandpa died latht year. Or wath it latht month? I forget. But he wath really cool. He had theeth cool action figureth. Do you know who Thuperman was?"
Matt laughs again, and I think how adorable he is with children. Over the past seven weeks, we saw his baby cousin, Rose. He held it like it was a china doll, only more expensive.
"I do know who Superman is, but I'm more of an X-Men fan," Matt replies. I see the boy's mother watching the encounter from underneath her perky polka-dotted umbrella.
"Ekth-men?!" the boy cries, flailing his arms. "I love Ekth-Men! Wolverine ith my faaavorite. He ith tho cool. Like, with hith clawth thtuff? He ith awethome!"
"And you know Rogue and Storm?" Matt says, unleashing his inner nerd. I can't help but smile.
"Oh, yeah, of courth. They're hot."
Matt and I laugh, and the boy looks at me as if I haven't been standing here at all. "Do you know what Ekth-Men is?" he asks, shielding his eyes from the sun. "I don't think a girl would know what it ith."
I bend down so he doesn't have to squint with the sun behind me. "Actually, I love X-Men. I always wanted to be that Mystique girl. I thought she was always really cool."
"But she workth for Magneto!"
"I like her power, but not her alliances."
"What doth that mean?"
Right, little kids can't comprehend my sesquipedalian words. "I don't like her working for Magneto, but I like her power," I say.
"Yeeeah," he replies. "And she'th hot."
I laugh again. "Yeah, definitely."
"Your Majesties," a deep voice says from behind us. Well, technically speaking, above us. "The speedboat is ready."
"We'll be there in a few seconds, Tyson," Matt says. He turns back to the boy and asks, "What your name?"
"My name is Ruthel, mithter." Russel does a cute little salute, and I laugh at his innocence. "What'th your names?" he says, looking at both of us. "And why did that guy call you 'Your Majethteeth?'" It's so hard to understand what Russel is saying through his lisp, but Matthew catches on quick.
"I'm Matthew, and this is Tess."
"Are you guyth dating?" Russel says, pointing at us.
"Okay, Russel, that's enough." The woman from beneath the umbrella scoops him up, and Matt and I stand as well. "Thanks for tolerating his questions," she says, slightly apologetic.
"Please, it was no big deal," I say with a smile.
"Well, I hope not. You kids go have your fun."
We wave goodbye and I can faintly hear Russel say, "Mama, they're the printh and the printheth! I thwear!"
The mother laughs but glances back at us anyway, and only then does she believe her child.
Matthew's POV
We hop on the boat, and Tyson hands me the keys. Driving is always exhilarating, but driving a boat is a different story entirely. The wind rushes through my hair, and the ocean spray is salty and cold. I love it.
"Tess, do you want to drive?" I yell over the crashing waves and the roaring engine.
"I can barely drive a car!" she says.
"That's called dysphemism. You got your license four weeks ago and the guy said you were fine."
"That's because the guy was half-asleep."
"Better than crying in fear! Love, come on."
She sighs but walks to me anyway, and I set her on my lap. She takes hold of the steering wheel, and I look over her shoulder. "I'll handle the throttle and whatnot. You can steer."
"What if I want to handle the throttle and whatnot?" she says, effortlessly steering through the ocean. I let go of the throttle, and she drives for a while. "It's not as exciting as you make it out be, Matt," she calls over her shoulder.
Tess releases the wheel and lets me drive again. "You ungrateful women and your lack of the need for speed," I tease.
"You men and your way with driving."
"Your Majesties, are you ready for water skiing?" Tyson asks.
"Absolutely!" Tess says, and I put the boat on neutral.
"Tess, you should go first. You seem the most excited."
"Yeah..." She has a giddy smile on her face and it's so cute seeing her so excited.
I get out my camera and she's already holding the black bar that's tethered to the boat. "Ready?" I say.
"Yeah!"
"Hit it, Tyson."
It is so enjoyable to see her scream and smile with the water behind her. "THIS IS SO AWESOME!" she yells. The pictures I get are amazing, and sometimes the subject of the photo is more important than the photo itself. Pictures are so much more trustworthy than brains. At least I know they'll retain the memories.
America's POV
"Maxon!" I yell through my office door.
He runs in frantically. "What, what? Are you alright?" He takes my face between his hands, and I smirk.
"I'm fine. I just needed help with scheduling."
"Dammit, woman," Maxon says, exhaling. "Try and tell me that without giving me a heart attack."
"So I'm trying to plan the twins' birthday party, and—"
"Wait, their birthday is when again?" He sits on the edge of my desk.
"Next Thursday, Max. Geez, you're getting old," I tease.
He laughs. "Not. Funny."
"Then why'd you laugh?" I say smugly.
"Because I know where your ticklish spot is." He starts to tickle my stomach and I can't stop laughing.
"Stop! I'm getting a cramp!"
"And you say I'm getting old," he mocks, that silly grin still on his face.
"I'm putting up the white flags! Stop it!"
He pulls his hands from me and says, "You were saying?"
I laugh, but my train of thought crashes when the door leading to the hallway bursts open. Alexandra and Alexander walk in calmly, but I can tell in their eyes they are anything but. Alexander proposed to her a last week, so the king is no longer in our agenda. But what in the world...?
"Mother, Father," Alexandra says. "I'm pregnant."
