"WHAT THE HELL?!"

Chapter 9 Josh

It was quite strange the way Mason and Naira just disappeared yesterday afternoon.

I don't know why they started looking for me.

Maybe I took longer than they'd expected.

I walk into the living room and find my dad sitting on an armchair reading the newspaper.

I roll my eyes, he's so old fashioned!

He appears to be looking at me over the newspaper.

"Hi, dad." I try to sound cheerful but my voice sounds a bit strained.

I've been staying up late since Naira and I started the Geography assignment. We need to get a good score as this assignment will affect our end of year grades.

"Hello, Joshua. Please sit down."

He points at the grey sofa next to me.

I flop onto the sofa, resting my chin on my left hand.

He leans towards me and passes me a magazine. It says 'how to plan the best pool party'.

"Thanks dad, but I know what a party is like." I scrunch up my face in a look of disgust.

I mean like, what the hell?! I'm not a caveman!

"There are some really good ideas in there, son. I suggest you skim through it." He returns to his newspaper without showing a dot of emotion.

"Don't call me son." I say and open the magazine.

To be honest, he was right. There were loads of fabulous refreshment and entertainment ideas. I guess I could take some advice...

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I send the party invitations by text on Monday.

It took me quite a bit of time to decide how to invite people.

I was stuck between traditional - sending a letter; and modern - sending a text message. (Those were what the magazine said are the best ways of inviting people to your party.)

My birthday is on the 1st of November, the party is this Sunday.

I hope it all goes well.

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I wear a blue shirt and turquoise trunks 1 hour before the party starts.

Mason and Naira are already here helping me get ready, I'm glad I have such loyal friends.

I put a hand through my hair to ruffle it up.

I look in the mirror, I look good on my birthday, possibly even older, but I'm just saying that, it doesn't mean I really look 16.

Naira is directing someone to carry the floats onto the pools edge, that's her bossy nature.

"Hello, miss. What can I do for you?" I walk up to her, smiling.

"I'm the one who's helping you, birthday boy!" she giggles.

"Don't birthday boy me. You're making me sound like a 9-year-old." I cross my arm and walk to the kitchen where the pastry chef my dad employed is baking heaps of desserts.

They all look delicate and delicious; I steal one when the chef isn't looking.

I take two bowls of Doritos with me to the poolside hut.

Mason walks past me and steals a handful, "cheers, mate."

The guests start arriving at 1. All of the people invited come.