Collab between @Fox of Hearts and @Cartoonicat
“Don’t you think this would bring him here faster?” Ange’s crisp voice cut through the music coming from Nico’s laptop. “I mean seriously! You promised to think of a distraction not make a big mess!”
Her hand cuffed the back of her boyfriend’s curly head. He jerked his hands forward to stop a nose-to-screen collision. “Ange! Like chill! It’s fineeeee. A’s distracting him. She’s also his girlfriend. It works out. You’ll see! That and this is the way I usually keep Zebby distracted when I need to.”
“Yeah, I see alright. He’s headed this way,” came Ange’s sarcastic voice. Her charcoal eyebrow quirked up to emphasize her point. A look Wyatt was familiar with.
Danger! Run while you can! “Sometimes, I feel Zeppelin is older than you.”
“Crap!” That was Nico as he slammed his laptop shut and hid the video montage he was editing from view. He forgot to pause the music but that was the least of his worries. He waved wildly in Friday’s direction.
Friday’s blue eyes went round.
Uh-oh! A failed her mission. Dan was coming! The chirpy boy dropped the cheese cubes he was skewering with toothpicks. He dashed to the door blurting out hurried excuses for every foot he stepped on.
“D-Dan!” he flailed.
“Dan! Dan! Dan!”
The shorter than normal high school junior danced about blocking Dan’s path. So far, his years on the basketball court were paying off. Dan couldn’t break through his defense. Their footsying devolved into this weird game of tag. Dan couldn’t catch hold of the jumping cricket long enough to push past him.
“Dan!” Friday yelled for the umpteenth time.
That did the trick! Dan was annoyed enough to finally give him a very terse “Yes Friday?” Friday tittered nervously. He kinda forgot how serious the newly appointed track co-captain could get. A reason he voted for Nico as captain instead.
“Teach me how to Grab Food. Pleeease?” he paused to give Dan his most pitiful puppy stare.
“Alicia told me to order tacos and… and I don’t know how to.” Friday pouted.
“The app keeps telling to check my location settings. Google didn’t help. Oh, Wyatt! Wyatt! Dan’s trying to help me. Come see?”
Roping in more people? Check! Friday couldn’t help feeling a little pleased with himself. He rubbed the back of his head nervously and tittered more. He thought it was a good plan.
Was it really? He couldn’t help searching for A. Her nod of approval would be good right about now.
He bounced at twice the rhythm he did earlier. He was just so nervous. Nico kept saying to stall more. Operation Surprise Dan was meeting all sorts of hiccoughs. Like, for example, Blake might or might not have heard about it from A. He told Whit about it and she promised to tell Wyatt. He was really worried she’d forget again. Like that time she forgot to tell Wyatt that they were going to the Grenfall Comic-Con two days earlier.
Friday pressed his pink lips together. As he rocked back and forth on top of all the bouncing, his little body turned into an oscillation of red, blue and yellow. He really wanted to ask Wyatt if he knew, but he couldn’t with Dan standing beside him.
Catching Wyatt’s eye, Friday waved his arms in exaggerated circles. His hands flapped around as he mouthed “the plan” repeatedly. It was hard to tell at this point if Wyatt noticed the goldfish mouthing over Friday’s windmilling arms.
Wyatt's brows lifted as, again, Dan whirled around and grabbed his shoulders.
"Uhh..." He listened to Dan's theory, his accusation, his hypothesis of the correct variety. Yeah, Aislyn has roped Wyatt into playing the diversion. Wyatt'd be lying if he knew why; the kitchen wasn't that bad and he'd taken care of most of the dirty dishes already. Mentioning pyrex containers and burnt cabinets had Wyatt reeling; How could high schoolers cause that much damage? Even Nico and Friday, in all of their hyperactiveness, weren't that clumsy.
Reaching out, Wyatt tried to stop him:
"I wouldn't- Erm, Dan they didn't-" Flailing arms and a bouncing mop of red hair caught his eye, however, and instead of focus on Dan, he let his sleeve slip through his fingers.
Wyatt blinked once, twice, a third time. Slowly, trying to understand what Friday was trying to accomplish by waving his arms and mouthing nonsense at the edge of the room. He looked behind him, a thought occurring; Was Friday talking to
him? Wyatt saw nobody else nearby, so… Friday was probably talking to him.
Probably.
Hopefully not, because Wyatt had no idea what was going on.
His phone buzzed from his front pocket, likely Peter, a saving grace.
"I, uh... wait there? Erm, I have to check my phone- wait, no, make a call. Just... the kitchen is fine." Sort of. It was a little dirty.
"Be right back." He knew he was supposed to stop Dan from entering the kitchen, but Wyatt honestly didn't see why; it wasn't a wreck like Dan anticipated, so shouldn't the others reassure him? Unless there was something else in the works... but Wyatt hadn't been told anything, so that probably wasn't the case. Right? Brushing off the idea, Wyatt headed over to Friday.
Yet, despite his confidence he hadn't been left out, Wyatt lowered his voice just in case:
“What are you doing?”
“Doing?” Friday blurted. His tiny hands clapped then plunged down. He pulled them left to right and back again. Nervous energy radiated from him more than ever. He chittered like the small bug he was. He took two deep breaths. His eyes widened dramatically.
“You don’t know? The plan?” He quizzed.
Red eyebrows rose in confusion when he didn’t see that spark of recognition in Wyatt’s face. The sinking feeling in his stomach confirmed that this was Grenfell Comic-Con all over again. Friday gulped. Whit never told Wyatt they were going two days earlier. Wyatt found out and showed up with Peter during closing time. Dinner at Dae’s had never been so awkward.
“You know … the plan Whit might have told you about. Or not …” he chirped. In response, Wyatt frowned deeply.
Friday’s hands orbited his head again. He bounced on his feet hoping to get Blake’s attention. He might have caught a glimpse of her head in the hallway. He skipped sideways. When he stopped super close to the door, he looked like he was doing a series of distorted jumping jacks.
Relief flooded him when he noticed A’s red hair.
“Blake! A! Blake! I mean …. A! A! As in, Aislyn and Blake! Not a Blake, but yeah.” He inhaled.
“A! Did you tell Blake about “the plan”?” He chirped again.
“I think Wyatt might not know!”
—————- ———— ————
Stacey's Party
15 Minutes Before Cyclone Friday…
To Whit:
20:00
Wyaaaatt’s here!!!!!!!!! Where are you???????
20:05
Whit! Whit!
(Why am I Jiminy Cricket? D:<)
20:22
(a few rabbit gifs)
(Rayman gif)
Whit!!!!!! Rayman! Rayman Mario?!
20:25
:( abandonerrrrrrr!!
Whit!
20:26
I saved you your fav green ice pop :(((((
The spam finally ended. Whit’s phone vibrated for one last time and didn’t shudder again. Her friend on the other side of town seemed to have given up hope that they’d play Rayman and Pokémon Stadium tonight. Peace returned for a brief moment before Stace’s voice registered in Whitley’s ears.
“WHIT!” The mayor’s daughter burst into the room. Her pink off shoulder dress shimmering so brightly in the dim light that she positively glowed. The silver beads of her dangling earrings only made her more dizzying to look at. Stacey’s brilliant blue eyes locked onto Whit’s. Bangles jangled around her wrists as she raised a hand to snap several times in her dazed friend’s face.
"W-what? Sorry, I was just-" The Barnes twin looked flustered, borderline panicked, and would no doubt begin rambling nonsense if Stace didn't get her focused soon.
“Whit? Whit!” Stace called again. “I need your help. Like you won’t believe this! The chef messed up before leaving for the night. Like oh my god! I want to complain to Daddy so bad but this party isn’t supposed to be happening. Like God! Like why? How can that guy mess up so bad?”
Whit collected herself with a gasp.
"He messed up the food!? What are we going to do-"
She was practically shaking Whitley agitatedly. “I asked for amazing food and you know what! He prepared the same food he does for Daddy’s boring parties. Caviar on crackers, deviled eggs, a cheese platter …. seared bite-sized foie gras, assorted cold cuts, fresh mozzarella balls, herb butter, homemade bread and… assorted finger sandwiches! Punch in a crystal bowl! I guess the pair of ice swans was a nice touch! BUT Whit! What kind of high school party serves food like that!? Don’t get me started on the floral decorations! Urgh!”
"Umm… well, maybe it's not that ba-"
The girl finally let go. Jasmine and cherry filled the air as her perfume chased away the smell of polished wood. Every step she took was followed by the clicking of silver stilettos or the jangling of the bangles around her wrists. There was so much sound as she was pacing around.
“Gina, like freaking Gina, she doesn’t get what’s wrong! I feel like you are the only one who isn’t an idiot.” Stacey stopped long enough to catch her breath. A skill that Peter claimed (secretly to Whit one day) won his sister far too many debates. He said that Stace simply left opponents slack-jawed after her verbal barrage.
Whitley didn't finish her sentence; rather, changed course directly.
"O-Oh. Yeah, umm," she looked quizzical, slightly rattled.
"Umm, uhh… Oh! What if we go get our own food and-" Her mouth snapped shut, eyes wide and staring at something behind Stacey.
Speaking of Peter, a familiar silhouette had appeared in the doorway. The youngest Meyer hesitated visibly on the threshold when he caught sight of his older twin ranting to Whitley. His look of concern switched back to his usual aloof mask. He dug his hands into his pockets and sauntered in.
“Rex was looking for you,” he drawled. He tried not to look too worried knowing that would set his sister off again. “He said the champagne and wine would be okay for now. Father has some hard liquor we could replace easily.”
He shrugged. “Rex told me to go Grenfall. Grab beer and food we can cook on the grill. Some chips.”
“That’s brilliant! Whitley can go with you."
"I can?"
"She knows what to buy like always. Remember how successful our picnic was? That was all her. God! Daddy needs to fire this guy. He was the one who made wagyu steak, country sausages and pies for a picnic. Like what even! He never thought of potato salad, chicken wings, ribs, cakes, and sandwiches.”
Stace began massaging her temples. She could see why Daddy said people were idiots. She hated to sound snobbish but that’s the reason they remained poor. They were too stupid to see what’s so obvious!
“It’s gonna be fine. You know people can’t tell the difference once they know it’s alcohol.” He rolled his eyes. “Rex says they just want to get high.”
“You’re so right! Gosh, Peter! I don’t know what to do without you, baby brother!”
She tiptoed and ruffled his hair. Ignoring the grimace on her twin’s face, she gave him a crushing hug before returning to her usual bubbly self. She put her arm around a very tense Whitley and began dragging the girl towards the door.
“Now Whit, you and Peter have to take my new sports car for a test run. Daddy got it custom made just for me because I told him how I absolutely need a car the same shade as my new one-of-a-kind Hermes handbag. The one Mommy bought from Paris. That’s why I insisted you take my other Hermes bag. It wasn’t as exclusive, you know, and it was from this year’s spring collection. Sorry about that.”
"Oh, it's okay," Whit blinked out of her stupor and gestured to the Hermes handbag she'd brought to the party.
"It pairs well with the top you gave me."
Stacey giggled happily. “My car is like the hottest color this summer. And …” she whispered into Whit’s ears. “I told you the shade looks good with you too. Peter’s so gonna notice.” Whit's face erupted in a blushing mess, composure horribly lost.
Pulling away, she gave the Barnes girl twin a sly wink. Stace waved to the people they passed. Ever the charming hostess, she would stop and laugh at the lamest of jokes. There were no signs of the meltdown barely ten minutes ago. It was almost bipolar!
Peter looked bored as he trailed behind the girls. He’d acknowledge anyone calling his name but most were snubbed. He wasn’t in a very good mood today. The main reason being his older brother. He glared at Rex as they crossed the saloon. The college boy was leaning against the pool table ignoring Peter like always. Peter squared his shoulders and looked away.
He was glad Wyatt gave him a semi-plausible excuse to give Stace. He was even happier the chef “messed up”. No one had to know he told the man what to prepare tonight. The poor guy was on the verge of a nervous breakdown that afternoon thanks to his sister.
Oh God. Oh no, no, no, no, no. Whitley was not prepared to be stuck in a super expensive sports car with the hottest guy in school. Well, the hottest guy in her opinion. Unable to resist, she peeked over her shoulder as Stacey dragged her through the house.
Wow, he was cute. Maybe riding in a car with him wouldn't be that bad. The pair might actually get to have a Moment; you know, the types talked about in teen magazines that indicate mutual feelings.
"Wonderful," she said, out loud, to no one. Or Peter, because they'd made eye contact without her realizing - but how could she not get lost in those pretty blue eyes? - and at this proximity, he could probably hear her. Whitley choked on her words and turned her head so fast whiplash wouldn't be surprising.
"SO UM STACE," Whit's voice shot up several pitches,
"I AM GONNA- ERM- Er…" She cleared her throat, pulling away from Stace's grasp with feigned nonchalance. A grace she didn't have much of off the field.
"We're gonna go, then! I'll text you when we're heading back!"
Flustered, Whit made a bee-line for the front door… and snatched a peppermint from a candy bowl along the way. You know, just in case.
“Always so eager to please,” Stacey commented. She inspected the painted fingernails of her right hand nonchalantly. “I like it when she has ideas of her own. It’s not very often. Gina says more even if it’s silly most of the time. People always asked why Whit. I mean why not? I need someone with a brain to talk to.”
She shrugged. “It’s so hard to find someone smart, useful and presentable. Flynn and fake Meyers would have made good friends. I heard Flynn’s Daddy is actually rich and successful. Daddy said the man’s old money like us. Fake Meyers is not. That’s why he’s a fake.” She snickered.
Continuing with her musings, Stace stepped in front of Peter and placed her head on his shoulder. She needed to tiptoe but she didn’t mind. “I don’t understand Flynn. We tried so hard to make friends with him. I even had Rex say sorry. He still chose that slutty Aislyn and that dumb orphan kid over us! So much loyalty! He’s just so weird. Like if it were me, child me would have chosen his dad over his mom. She’s not as … how do you say this? Not as pedigreed. Her salary is middle-class at best.”
“Making friends doesn’t need to be so hard,” Peter replied. He grabbed a handful of mints figuring that Whit must like them. He never understood why girls had such a strange fascination with sugar. Guys were a lot easier to understand. “I really think we should hang around with other people too. There’s nothing wrong being “middle class”. You keep talking about it as if it’s a bad thing.”
“Well, baby bro, it’s better to be selective. Daddy tolerates you being friends with Wyatt, but you should hang out with Rex’s friends more. It’s awkward but it’s either his friends or boys much younger than you. I know you don’t enjoy hanging around my female friends.”
Peter wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Rex can go to hell.”
“You know you love him. He’s our big brother,” Stacey insisted. Her arms snaked around Peter’s. “Families stick together. No one cares about you more than we do.”
“Right,” came a huffy reply.