Celebrity Status [1]

32.) Birthday Presents

“A baseball bat?”

“He has five.”

“A mitt?”

“Four.”

“Is there some important card that he wants?”

Ryder shook his head absent mindedly. “He has them all.”

“Is there anything that he doesn’t have?” I shrieked incredulously.

Ryder looked up from his cell phone and grinned at me. “No, not really.”

I groaned and threw my head against Ryder’s small bedroom couch.

He laughed at me from his bed. “Calm down, you have a month to think of something.”

“No, I have a month to plan the party and to perfect his present and to make everything perfect.” I ranted.

“Everybody’s helping with the party, that’s not all you.” He reasoned.

I sighed heavily. “You’re right. So I just have to focus on his present.”

“Where is he, anyway?”

“I got the twins to take him to the movies or something so I can figure something out.” I explained. “Now, think. You’re all I have since Andy is out with Carrie and Jackson went to Tommy to the recording studio.”

“Well, I’m honored to be your last resort.” He snickered, still tapping away at his phone.

“Ryder, think!” I yelped, throwing a pillow in his direction, successfully hitting him in the head and making him jump from the impact.

“Flavored condoms?” He asked.

“Gross.” I muttered, laying down on the fluffy couch and put my thinking cap on.

“A stripper?”

“Grosser.”

“Lingerie?”

“No!”

“How can I help if you keep shooting down my ideas?” Ryder countered.

“PG ideas.” I corrected him.

“Okay, think.” He told me seriously.

“I’ve been thinking, but I’m not getting anything.” I whined.

“Then think harder.” He chuckled. “What’s his favorite thing to do?”

I thought for the slightest second. “Baseball.”

Ryder nodded. “And who’s his favorite person on this earth?”

This time, I had to think a little harder. “Michael Jordon?”

“You, Holly.” Ryder grumbled. “And Michael Jordon is basketball, smart one.”

“Okay, but me and baseball don’t match.” I told him.

“Exactly.” Ryder smirked.

I was about to throw a second pillow at him when his words made sense and I knew that he wasn’t a crazy person. If me and baseball don’t match, then I’ll make us match. I gasped and grinned. “That’s a perfect idea.”

“I know.” Ryder smirked.

I rolled my eyes at his ego. “So do you know how to play?”

He scoffed. “Who do you think taught Kale? Of course I know how to play.”

“So you’ll, like, teach me?” I asked with my best innocent pleading look that I could muster.

He pretended to be thinking it over, causing another pillow to the jaw, making him laugh. “I don’t think I can do that, I’m good but I’m no Babe Ruth.”