Not the Usual Trip to the Bathroom

Cakes and Double Cakes

A/N:

Okie dokie, my little artichokies- all three or four of you- I just wanna say thank you for reading. So virtual hugs to all of you.

If I end up getting more reads/comments/votes, I’ll update regularly. But for right now, I was thinking maybe every other week or so..

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*Elise’s POV*

 Luke tossed me into the car like a sack of potatoes and my head hit the opposite door.

“OWWWW,” I shrieked, my hands flying up to my head. I patted the back of my precious noggin, poking through my hair looking for signs of blood, broken skull cap, or any possible leaking brains…

 Hmmm. Nothing.

“Shitshitshitfuckshitohshitcakes, are you okay?!” Luke slammed the door shut and scooted over, practically in my lap.

Although… Him being in my lap wouldn’t be so bad… Nah- he’d squish me. Now, if it were ME in his lap, that would be much more comfortable… Maybe I could just…

I wriggled around Luke’s arm so that my head was in his lap. That’s how you do it, ladies.

“You just said ‘shit’ like a bajillion times. And would you mind sharing the recipe for those shit cakes of your’s?” I looked up at Luke.

“Oh yeah, totally, no problem. It’s at home in my recipe book, I can e-mail it to you if you want.” He motioned to the driver and the car pulled away from the curb.

“My email is sexystarfish6969 at yahoo dot com.”

“Got it,” he burst out laughing

“So, you know I could charge you with kidnapping, right?” I sat up, rubbing my still tender head.

“Well you’re welcome to leave,” he grinned.

“OUCH.” I slapped my hand over my heart, “that HURTS”

“What?”

“The knife you just stabbed my heart with.”

“Then would it feel better if I said we we’re going on a date?”

Oh shitshitshitshitdoubleshitcakes.

Heh. He’s rubbing off on me. Except my shit cakes were double the shit, but who's counting?

But back to panicking.

Shitshitshit he called this a DATE. I DON’T DATE. My first kiss was two months ago, for god’s sakes. YES YES I SAID TWO MONTHS AGO STOP JUDGING ME.

My family went to Florida over the summer and I had a fling- okay it wasn’t really a fling, the word “fling” implies that I’ve had many, and let’s face it, I don’t exactly have a line of guys outside my house. Anyways, the family in the hotel room next to mine had a son my age, we met by the pool, and long story short, we kissed behind the pool bar. Very steamy story, I know. It was one kiss, and I never saw the poor boy again.