6. "Hey there Delilah."

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Luke's POV

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The doorbell rang and I jumped up from the couch to answer it. In the doorway stood Ashton with Michael, his blue convertible behind him.

"Come on, we're already late." Ashton said impatiently, dragging me upstairs and both of them greeting Mia through the railings.

Michael slammed my bedroom door shut, leaning against it.

"What's going on? What are we late for?" I asked, glancing up at them, confused.

Ashton rolled his eyes and spun around in my black leather swingy chair, pointing at Michael. "Tell him, Clifford."

He nodded and folded his arms. "Tell me, what do we always do the day after my party?"

I thought about it for a moment, and then it hit me. "Pizza. Right, sorry. I just woke up really late today, and my mom and dad are gone for two days-"

"Wait. Did you just say your mom and dad are gone for two days?" Ashton stopped swinging and stared right at me.

"Uh, yeah."

Michael jumped up and down, pumping his fist in the air. "Another party!" Ashton joined in, both yelling.

I groaned. "No. No, okay? One party's enough, and besides, I'm too tired."

Ashton scoffed. "More like lazy."

I shot him a death glare, while Michael made random noises. "Then we'll throw it tomorrow night! You said your parents are gone for two days, right? Just clean it all up before they get home." He compromised, which in my opinion, still didn't help at all.

"Me? But it wasn't my idea!" I exclaimed.

"So? It's your house," Michael pointed up at the ceiling. "And besides, if we help, your parents will know you threw a party. I mean, the house will be clean, and all."

Ashton laughed. "True."

I raised an eyebrow, standing up and walking over to my window. "How does that make any sense? Anyway, no. My parents will kill me. They always find out."

Ashton fell to his knees and put his best puppy dog face on. "Aw, come on. Please? Please, please, please, please, pleaseeee?" Michael joined in, and in a few seconds, they were starting to get on my nerves.

"Fine! I'll do it." I gave in. They stood up and high-fived each other, grinning widely. We heard the door creak and turned around, looking down at Delilah standing in the doorway.

"A party? What kind of party?" She frowned, cuddling her stuffed polar bear. The three of us exchanged nervous glances. Busted.

"Uh, hey there, Delilah." Ashton gulped.

"What's it like in New York City?" Michael tried. She giggled, placing a hand on her hip.

"I don't live there."

We knew she heard our conversation, so we had to cover it up or make her promise not to tell mom or dad. Of course, we went with the second option. And what better way to make her promise than bribe her with a couple of candy bars?

"So, um, Del. You know about our party?" Ashton asked nervously, as if he wasn't talking to an eight year old, but his grandma.

"Yeah. Can I come?"

"Actually, Delilah, it's going to be right here, in the house. And no, you can't come. My friends are coming, and they're not your age so you can't play with them, okay?" I told her, crouching down. Delilah still didn't get it though.

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