Chapter 13

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Your pov...

Italics- thoughts


"This guy's outta his mind," the first guys says.

"Let's get outta here," The second guy stammers.

"Next time you eat an egg, you better apologize a hundred times, you buncha chumps," Deuce yells at them.

"Well that was something," I comment. "I certainly wasn't expecting all that."

"I did it again, didn't I," Deuce sighed. "I was dead-set on becoming an honor student this time, too!"

"Honor student," I questioned then shook my head. Now is not the time to have questions about weird school terms.

"When I was in middle school, I was pretty wild," Deuce starts explaining. "I cut school all the time and got in fights. I called my teachers names, hung out with bullies, bleached my hair...I blasted around tight curves on my Magic Wheel... I'd show off my magic to kids who couldn't use it yet... I was a total punk."

"If it makes you feel better, I think you have changed since then," I smile and Deuce looks at me with wide eyes. "Sure change can't happen over night, but it's good to show progress."

"But one night, I say my mom talking on the phone to my grandma," Deuce continues. "She was trying to hide from me, but I saw her and I could tell she was in tears. She was saying how she must have been a horrible mom and that maybe she could never should have tried to raise me by herself. That had nothin' to do with it! She hadn't done anything wrong. It was all me! When the carriage came to take me to NRC, she was so happy for me. I decided then and there that this time, I wouldn't do anything to make her cry. This time, I'd become an honor student— someone she could be proud of. And I already messed it all up!"

"Deuce, you're fine," I say. "It's not that bad, if anything I can try to help you."

"Y/n," Deuce looks at me with sparkles in his eyes.

"Don't worry about it," I say confidently. "I got your back."

"Seriously, thanks," Deuce thanks me and picks up the dropped bags. "I just hope those chicks can rest in peace."

"Que," I question. "Um... Deuce... You know the eggs we eat aren't fertilized, so they never had the chance of becoming chicks in the first place..."

"WHAAAAAAT," Deuce exclaimed. "Are you kidding me?!"

"We can't digest fertilized eggs," I explain. "I am so sorry."

"Let's just head back," Deuce stated. Oh uh, I think I broke him... I'm so sorry Deuce, but I can't let you live a lie. Please forgive me! For the walk back to the kitchen, no words were spoken.

"You're finally back," Ace says as Deuce and I enter the kitchen. "Took ya long enough."

"Sorry, I didn't know that you wanted us to more slower," I smirked and Ace glared at me. I stifled a giggle.

"Let's get this tart-y started," Trey smiles.

"No," I say offended. "Don't ever say those words again."

"Tough crowd," Trey shrugs, and starts pulling the ingredients out of the bag. As we worked on finishing the tarts, Ace looked at Deuce wondering what he was muttering about. All Ace could gather is that it had something to do with eggs.

Once we were finished with the tarts we all stepped back and admired them. I was surprised that they turned out visually fine since I had helped make them. Maybe learning how to cook new things wouldn't be bad.

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