hey! i got some IMPORTANT NEWS.
okay. first of all, member how i said there was a secretly hidden hint? well...
NONE OF YOU GOT IT. HA.
so i guess that means i'm not stupid and i'm awesome at hidden secrets. it will be revealed later in the book, so yeah. if you want to play detective and go back into the last chapter and try to find it, be my guest. but you're probably not going to find it. LIKE, EVER.
WE'RE NEVER EVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER! AND WEEEEEEEEEE ARE NEVER EVER EVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER!......LIKE,.....EVER.
Sorry. it popped into my head. XD
so, today, if you guys are still reading this, i have made it my goal to finish this story on the three day weekend i have. i'm not sure if it's going to work out, so don't get your hopes and dreams up. i just really want to put this in the watty awards.
here's the next chapter. it's very...shocking. i don't think any of yous gussed it. ;D
Chapter Twelve-Acting Like A Ninja Helps You Solve Crimes...Most Of The Time
Drumming my fingers on the desk in front of me, I pout at Nora. “Don’t leave me. You’re my buddy.”
She sighs and picks up her son, shifting him onto her hip. “I have to. Now its your turn to come visit me.”
“I’m poor. Pay for my first class airplane ticket.”
“Just for that, I’m getting you the most horrible seat I can find.”
“I love how you care,” I reply. Today is the day where all my family is leaving me. They don’t care about my feelings, do they? Eh, I’ll get over it. I’m a big boy.
I’M A BIG BOY NOW!
Ah, I love Huggies diapers.
Or was it a different brand of diapers…
Who knows. I just like diapers.
Stinky wore a diaper before.
He ate it.
I told him not to, but did he listen to me?
No.
Nobody ever listens to me.
“Okay, we’re going,” Charles sighs, swinging an arm over Nora.
She wriggles out of it. “Don’t touch me, Carrot Top,” She snaps. “I don’t know you. Not until that orange dies out of your hair.”
He juts his lower lip out. “That’s low.”
“Suck it,” She shows him her middle finger. “I’ll be in the taxi.” I say my goodbyes to her and the kids. Nell, Clinton, and everybody else left earlier this morning.
Before Charles can leave, I stop him. “Wait. How did you know Nora was your mate?”
He pauses, thinking back four years ago. “Well, first tingles started. It happened every time we touched. Then I started smelling this vanilla scent. And then I had the stupid urges to…why?”
I shrug, playing it off casual. “I think Harley is my mate.”
He totally freezes and looks me in the eye. “Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
Charlie mutters something under his breath and nods. “Okay, you’re okay. Alright. Does she hate you?”
“Last time I checked, no.”
“Good. Then it will be a lot easier than Nora was. Pain in my ass, she is. Is she a…you know…”
I frown, thinking back to a couple of times when we talked. “I’m not sure.”
“Find out. If she is, then she might know that you’re her mate. If not, you need to make sure she’s your mate. Then you’re going to have to tell her and explain everything. If she’s a vampire, then that saves you a step. A very large step. And, if you did everything right, you should live happily ever after.” He pats my back. “Good luck. Call me if you need anything.” He goes to walk away, but pauses and turns around. “One more thing: control the urges.”
With that, he disappears from my view.
Sighing, I nod to myself. I can handle Harley. She’s just a girl. A very hot girl…but still…just a girl. Who might be my mate. Yeah, I got this. I got this. I got this!
I GOT THE POWER!
YEAH!
I CAN DO THIS!
GO, DORA, GO!
Wait…I’m not watching Dora the Explorer…
But she helps me solve crimes.
No she does not. She just has these creepy eyes that stare into your soul.
OKAY, BART, GET BACK ON TRACK!
It’s time….
…to….
…act…
…like…
…a…
NINJA!
Oh yes. Ninjas definitely help solve crimes. Not Dora. Silly Dora.
But damn do I wish I had her backpack.
I would trade my Bratz bag for that purple backpack any day. That thing holds everything.
And when I say everything, I mean everything.
Okay. Let’s do this thing.
I do a summer salt over to the elevator, humming the Mission Impossible theme song. It really helps boost your confidence at a time like this.
TO ROOM 425, AWAY!
I put my arm out in front of me and charge into the elevator. I ignore the stares I get and turn my arm towards the top of the elevator. “Floor 11, please.”
The creeped out old lady who stands next to me reaches out and presses the button. I start humming the fancy elevator music that I’ve memorized over the years. That only creeps her out more, because, seriously, who memorizes elevator music?
THIS GUY DOES!
OH YEAH!
BOOYAH!
The elevator comes to my stop, and, just to creep out the little old lady some more, I put my hand on her shoulder and state seriously, “You have been a great co-captain; but, I am sorry, you cannot come with me on this dangerous expedition.”
With that, I roll out of the elevator, pencil style.
The girl is mortified as the elevator closes.
Heh. She looked like a funny looking cockroach with diabetes.
Why diabetes, you ask?
Just because.
TO ROOM 425!
I pause, though, and go off to a corner with no cameras. I quickly go invisible so nobody will be able to see me. I stroll off into the hallways, whistling the elevator music that I heard before. I stop in front of room 425 and knock.
Nobody answers.
So I knock again.
No answer.
Huffing, I yell, “YO-HO-HO AND A BOTTLE OF RUM!”
Still no answer.
I guess there’s nobody in there.
I whirl around. “TO ROOM 227, AWAY!”
Instead of taking the elevator, I dash down the stairs quickly. I’m there in less then five minutes because of my super vampire abilities. I knock on the door, and thankfully, one of the guys in ties answers. “Hello?” He asks deeply.
I quickly slip into the room, careful not to touch him. He could have cooties, for all I know.
He shuts the door, muttering something under his breath. All four of them are in here. The blonde guy is sitting on the bed with one of the brunette guys, while the other brunette takes a seat near the black haired guy, whose sitting down at the desk chair.
But my eyes are glued to the pictures that are sprawled across the bed.
All of them are pictures of Harley.
Staying as silent as a mouse, I observe their conversation.
“Did any of you guys see her when we were checking in?” The black haired guy asks lowly in an affirmative voice. This guy means business.
“No, Ralphie,” The blonde guy sighs. “Maybe we have the wrong island.”
“It’s gotta be this one,” Black haired guy, now named Ralphie, replies. “The boss said so.”
“We’ll find her. She’s a sneaky little bitch.”
“Dammit!” The hazel brunette punches the wall. “She always somehow gets away!”
“Calm down, Quincy, we’ll find her,” Ralphie snaps at him. “Now, Louis go check the beach.” Louis, the blond, gets up and leaves the room, muttering things under his breath. “Reece,” He motions to the dark brown haired guy, “Go check around the hotel once more. Quincy come with me. We’ll check the other spots we missed.”
Everybody gets up and leaves as I stare, mortified, at the pictures in front of me. There’s a corner sticking out of the pile, and I pull that out. It’s a tan folder with Harley’s name sprawled across the front. I open it up and scan over the details:
Name: Harley Newcroft
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Eyes: Green
Hair: Blonde
Height: 5’6
Details: Escaped from prison from life sentence. On the run.
Last Seen: Italy
Time From Escape: Two months
Harley, Harley, Harley…what did you get yourself into?