Daniel

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*Ryan’s POV*

“Here’s your juice box,” Pete said, handing me a juice box.

“Thanks, Pete,” I said, taking the juice box. “Hey, can I have some more medicine for my throat?”

“Of course you can you little ball of fur,” he cooed, messing my hair up. He walked back into the kitchen and I tried getting the straw into my juice box, but failed miserably. I guess I was squeezing the box really hard, because when I finally got the straw in, juice squirted everywhere. Unfortunately, most of it seemed to have landed in my lap. Pete chose that moment to walk into the room.

“Awh, did you have an accident?” he asked in a baby voice.

“I-It was the juice!” I exclaimed, trying to spare what small ounces of dignity I had left.

“Yeah. Sure it was,” Pete scoffed. “Here’s your medicine.” He handed me the two remarkably small pills and said, “I suppose I need to get you another juice box?” He glanced at the wet spot on my pajama pants. “...And maybe a pack of diapers?”

“Har har hardy har har,” I said in monotone. “Can I have some Gatorade instead?”

“Yeah, but all we have left is grape.”

“Aawwwhh, but I don’t like grape,” I whined.

“Well you and Spencer drank all the other flavors so it’s either grape Gatorade, another juice box or water.”

“I’ll take another juice box,” I sighed.

“Alright, anything else?”

“No.”

Pete walked into the kitchen and Patrick ran down the stairs.

“Has anyone seen my phone?” Patrick asked, looking underneath the cushions on the chairs and the couch I wasn’t lying on.

“What does it look like?!” Pete yelled from the kitchen.

“It looks like a red and black cassette tape! You bought it!” Patrick yelled back.

“Well, have you tried calling it?” Pete walked back into the living room, juice box in hand. “Here I put the straw in there for you.” He handed the box to me.

“Thank you,” I took the juice box and swallowed the pills with the juice from the box.

“You know what, Pete? I haven’t thought of that yet. You’re a genius!” Patrick hugged Pete.

“Keep it PG guys!” I said, sipping my juice box. Patrick pulled away and walked towards where the house phone was on a corner table in the living room. Right when he was about to hit send, the phone rang. He picked it up.

“Hello?... Yes, yes it is...Of course. Ryan, it’s for you,” Patrick held out the phone to me. I took the phone and held it to my ear.

“Hello?” I asked into the phone.

“Hey, Ryan,” a familiar British voice said through the phone. “It’s Daniel.”

My heart skipped a beat and for a moment, I let myself hope that he remembered. But I knew it couldn’t be true and I played my role and pretended he had the wrong number.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know a Daniel,” I said and Pete and Patrick whipped their heads around and started whispering probabilities to themselves. “You must have the wrong number.”

“Kitty-Cat, I remembered. Now get on Skype so we can talk properly,” Daniel said from the other end.

“A-A-A-Alright,” I barely got out. “See you in two minutes.”

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