Diary of a Random, Cute, Fiesty, (Possibly ADHD) Chick-a-dee

Breaking & Entering

Tweet! Tweet!

Giggle.

Tweet! Tweet!

Giggle.

"Phebs."

Tweet! Tweet!

"What?" I...giggled.

Tweet! Tweet!

"Are you done?"

Tweet!

"With what?" I mumble, my eyes trained on my new phone. "Addy says 'hi' BTW."

Addy is my nickname for Adam.

"Your acting like a school girl," Nancy grumbled, her voice muffled.

I looked over to see she had my pillow over her face.

"Am not," I retorted, reverting my eyes back to the phone screen.

"Are to."

I hmphed. And tweeted Addy about how annoying Nan-Nan is being.

And giggled.

She threw the pillow at my head. I flipped her off and made myself promise to slip some poison in her coffee next time.

.:.:.:.:.:.

I'd later found out that Adam only had three pairs of pants, a wife beater (yum!) and a couple of t-shirts with him when he snuck back into Roswell.

I suggested that he could walk around naked. But then Mother Dearest reminded that there were other people in the house, much to mine and Gabe's dismay.

Claudia offered her credit card but Adam was too proud to take it.

Gabe's clothes were too big.

Mine were too small and...Girly, whatever the hell that meant and Nancy's dad's clothes were too suity.

Leave it to my boyfriend to be picky.

"I'm...going to have to go to my house," he sighed, dropping his face in his hands.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, "just take the credit card Adam, it's not a big deal," I mumbled. Plus I hate seeing you in distress, but that would be incredibly selfish to say.

"No," he groaned, lifting his head up to glare at the wall. "I owe your mom my life, I should be in jail by now."

I rolled my eyes, his such a drama king.

"Adam, Adam, Adam," I tsked, "my mother isn't normal, if you hadn't noticed, she would have let you stayed if you were a mad man claiming you met Jesus."

He cocked a bushy eyebrow, swiveling his head around to meet my eyes. "What about God?" He smirked, his eyes dancing with mockery. "Is He acceptable or will I have to show myself out the door?"

I snorted, unladylike of course, and punched him on his shoulder.

"Shut up you dork."

His chuckle was short and sweet before dying all together, his forehead wrinkling up with worry again. "Phoebe, I have to go."

I shrugged liked I didn't care, pshaw I totally did care, and said, "fine, but I'm coming."

"No, your not."

'Scuse me?

"Yeah, I am." I emphasized the am part, ya know, for good measure.

He cocked an eyebrow. I cocked a eyebrow. Were all just cocking our eyebrows.

"No your not- ah! Lemme finish." I shutted my trap. "There will be camera, guards, maybe even a electric gate. My parents, Abbigail and Pete Garden, are overprotective and will protect theirselves and their house from trespassers. The second I brought that gun to school, my parents disowned me and will notify the cops the second they see me, or anyways else with me. They can't see you Phoebe. Not even if I lied and said that I dragged you in there. Plus, your a horrible liar."

Lemme repeat that, 'scuse me?

"Well Mr. Bigshot, I'll let you know that I'm a terrific liar thank you very much," I snarked, poking him on his muscular chest.

Please don't flex...please don't flex...

He flexed.

Swoon!

Why is he vibrating?

Oh...he was laughing.

"What's so funny?" I mean, shit, I'm not that bad of a liar...am I?

"Y-you!" he chocked out. While laughing. At me. Don't I feel beautiful.

"Whatever asshole, I hope you have fun rotting in jail," I growled, shoving him on his shoulder before storming away. Or try to storm away.

He wrapped his...muscular, guhh, never gonna get use to that...arms around my waist, crushing me against his (muscular!) body.

"I'm sorry," he rushed out, "baby, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." Planting a kiss on my shoulder, he continued. "Your beautiful, always was and always will be. Even when your old and-and-"

"Okay! Stop right there! No need to add that I'll get old one day," I shuddered and spun around in his arms, placing both my hands on his chest. Looking up into his eyes, I sighed. "I'm going."

And that's that.

.:.:.:.:.

"OhMiGod, this is like, a movie," Gabe gushed, pulling out a pair of black skinny jeans, a black turtle neck and black all-stars for moi.

"A turtle neck?" I cocked a eyebrow. "It's over a 100 degrees outside."

"Then you'll be and look hot."

Smartass.

"What? No ski mask?" I snarked.

"No silly, I got you one of those black snow caps, that way you can wear a ponytail."

Great, my scalps going to be sweaty now.

"Awesome," I drawled.

"Oh yeah, I looked on Google Map for Addy's house, girl you bests to hope Adam knows that house like the back of his hand because it makes the White House look like point A to point B," Gabe rambled.

His worried.

Aaaww.

"His parents should be at work when we get there, the security will have a lunch break and a couple of squeak toys should do the trick with the guard dogs."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"You know those things only work in movies, right?"

"Yep."

"Your going to caught, aren't you."

"Yessiree."

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

It actually worked.

"Told Dad those dogs are easily distracted," Adam muttered as he punched in the code to turn off the alarm.

"Fancy," I commented as we made our way into an endless hallway. Okay...now I hoped Adam knew this place like the back of his hand.

He must of sensed my worry because he placed his hand on the small of my back. "Don't worry, I know this place like the back of my head."

It's nor his hand but I'll take it!

"Are there cameras in here?" I asked.

"Turned them off."

Huh? "When? I didn't see you..."

"It's connected with the alarm, my parents don't want anyone to see them while they're in the house. Makes them feel uneasy."

"Ooohh."

"Just one more hallway and-" Adam was interrupted by the startling voice of Mrs. Garden.

"Adam?"