The Bucket List [ON HOLD]

The Bucket List - Part 5

He looked around now, one hand running through his shining gold hair, looking lost without the support of a bimbo.

“This is stupid! I’m not going to have an argument about something so inhumane!” Lacy yelled, also breathing hard. Then she rounded on Chance. “This is all your fault!”

No one saw the connection, until I remembered. Chance had written steal a baby. Dear Lord, what happened in that head of his? He was responsible for all the craziest ones on the List. I was seriously worrying about the state of his mental health when Ian jogged up.

“Hey,” he puffed, looking very tan and fit in an oblivious kind of way. “What was the shouting match about? I heard you across the courtyard.”

Carmen looked round. “Oh,” she said, eying Greg and Lacy with an annoyed expression. “They want to have babies, but none of them wants to keep it.” 

Everyone stared at this huge misunderstanding, awed by Carmen’s ability to completely misread a conversation. Instead of worrying about Chance, I started on Carmen. She seriously lived in her own world sometimes.

“Well,” Ian finally commented awkwardly. “We should get going.”

The six of us began to make our way across the well-kept lawn.

“Amber not coming?” Lacy asked as we trudged along. She waved to several people as we passed, always the nicest of our group. 

“Nope,” Ian responded absently. 

“So guys,” Chance broke the silence, grinning. “What do you first think of when you hear the word... delicious?” he asked wickedly, raising his eyebrows.

Our group gave a unanimous groan. This had always been Chance’s thing, this little game he played with us. He would name a word, and quickly, we had to respond what first flashed to mind that we associated it with. Sometimes he asked us other trivia-type questions. Nobody ever seemed to mind, though. 

“Gaspard Ulliel,” Carmen replied promptly, though somewhat dreamily. 

I cringed, awaiting something massively inappropriate from Greg, but he surprised me. “Baby back ribs,” he said decidedly, and gave a little moan. Okay, that part was inappropriate, but this was really good for Greg. 

“Uhh...” Ian stammered, caught off-guard. “A Porsche,” he admitted, the living embodiment of guys who literally drooled over cars. 

“Chocolate cake,” Lacy said simply.

All eyes turned to me. I refused to say what, or rather who, had truly come to mind at the word “delicious,” since it was also someone who had been on my mind rather a lot lately. So instead, 

“Pirates,” I lied smoothly.

Chance flicked his eyes at me, sensing the little pause, but kept his face blank. “Well I think of—” he began, but at that moment a car alarm blared to life.

Ian cursed under his breath. “My baby’s crying!” he said, all concerned, and sprinted towards the parking lot with something sounding a lot like, “Daddy’s coming!” 

I glanced over at Chance, who was now walking with his arm casually flung around Lacy’s shoulders. The group had already forgotten Chance’s question and everyone’s responses. I was the only one who wondered what Chance had been going to say. 

“Everyone get in,” Ian said, as we all piled in, extremely cramped. I began feeling sorry for canned sardines. 

“So, what are we going to do?” Lacy asked,witha hint of excitement. She was pressed against Greg on one side, me leaning in on her other. Chance was on my right, our knees and thighs melting againsteach other. 

Carmen’s voice answered from the front passenger seat as Ian brought his car to life.

“We’re going to literally scare the crap out of someone.”

A chorus of protests and noises of disgust arose. Ian shouted above us.

“Yeah, it’s awkward and gross, not to mention downright weird. But it’s on the freaking list, so we do it!”

“Excellent,” Chance was grinning evilly. “Who are the potential victims?”

Ian glanced in the review mirror and shrugged. “The mall. Should be lots of people around.” 

“How are you going to do it?” was Lacy’s practical question.

Carmen grinned roguishly. “You’ll see.” 

I wasn’t sure that I wanted to.

Note from ella:

I know, I know. Ewww, Ella, gross, what goes on in your head. Haha, you can't literally scare the crap out of someone... *thoughtful pause* ohmigoshness, CAN YOU? :O *gasps of disgust* Are you, like, gonna DESCRIBE it? Uhh... no.

So anyways. If you're reading this, then wow, thanks for giving this story a try. Have an awesome day, and no, next chapter won't be as bad as your imagining. On second thought... don't even go there, your imaginiation will run away with you and you'll think I'm the nastiest person on this site. So yeah. I'm in a weird mood. I got my uniform at work :D It's actually pretty. So yep. What have you guys got to share? I have to go write an American history course about all freaking 44 Presidents and their contributions, despite the fact that I'm Canadian. Americans, why do you have to have so many Presidents? :(