The Opportunity of a Lifetime

Chapter 34 (Andy's POV)

Its about mid-morning, and everyone is awake, which is a major surprise. The reason? The fucking kid, that's what. Around nine in the morning she grabbed some pot and spoon I didn't even know the tour bus had, and started banging it together chanting, "Two more weeks, my foot is in the door, I can't sleep, in the wake of Saturday!" over and over again. I used to really like that song, but that made me hate it.

"Shut up before that foot gets shoved somewhere else!" Joe had screamed, making Patrick scowl at him and scold him for talking to Gracie like that.

Now, everyone is cranky because of the sleep they lost. Pete is laying on his stomach on the couch with his face shoved into a pillow, and Cheryl is laying opposite of him, her feet resting on his butt. She's reading something on her phone... but I'm smart enough not to ask what. Hailey is sprawled on the floor, eating out of a gallon ice cream container. I'm also smart enough not to question that. Joe is laying face-first on the coffee table, his legs dangling off of it. Occasionally, I'll hear a muffled groan from him. Patrick is slumped against the wall, gazing at his shoes. I'm just laying on a big chair, reading a BoxLife magazine. And the kid? Skipping around us like the hyper fucking catbird she is with a colander on her head. Its pretty amusing but damn, at 11 in the morning?!

After a couple minutes of silence, besides Gracie's odd noises, Cheryl suddenly gasps and falls off of the couch. Her body hits the ground with a thud, and Patrick and I jump up at the same time, running towards her.

"Are you alright?" Patrick asks, and I reach out to her. She smacks my hand away and sits up, rubbing her head.

"Back the fuck off," she mutters.

Hailey rolls her eyes. "Don't you know that the kids are never alright? Why would you ask such a dumb question? Especially after a fan fiction freak-out?" She smirks, then sticks a huge spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, and her eyes widen. She immediately spits the ice cream out, mouthing "fuck!" and throws the spoon across the room.

"Um...?" Joe asks from the coffee table.

"Brain freeze," she says through clenched teeth.

"Overreacting much?" Joe asks with a smirk.

"Shut the hell up, Joseph."

Joe pushes his body off of the table, crawling over to Hailey. He gets right up to her ear, and he yells "NEVERRRR!" right into her ear with the most annoying, nasal-y voice I've ever heard, and out of instinct Hailey bashes him with the ice cream container. The sticky crap drips all through his mini-fro.

"Joe, you made me waste all of this perfectly good ice cream!"

He looks shocked. "Your ice cream? What about my hair! Look what you did!"

"You snuck up on me!"

"You started it!"

"How did I start it?"

"You were born!"

They argue for a while, and all of us just stare at them amusedly. I'm kind of surprised Pete hasn't cut in with some witty metaphorical comment, but when I hear an extremely loud snore emanate from his body I realize why he hasn't said a thing.

After a while of the two bickering, I start to get annoyed.

"Are you two chicken legs about done arguing? You're interrupting my beauty research." I gesture to my body, cocking my leg up and dramatically kicking the air.

"Beauty would be the correct word if your referencing an ogre," Joe says, sneering at me.

Gracie looks at us with a mischevious expression. "Stop acting, we all know Trohley is real."

Cheryl high fives her. "Ohhhhhhhhhh we called it!"

"Now kiss!" Pete says, pushing our heads together. When did he even wake up?

I shove Joe's face away from me, and his mouth ends up landing right on Pete's, and they jump away from each other so fast I fall off the chair to avoid Joe colliding into me.

"Ew, ew, ew, ew!" Joe screams childishly, running into the bathroom and squirting a huge amount of hand soap into his mouth.

"I need to get it out!" He yells around his mouthful of soap, stumbling around the bathroom until his gaze lands on the toilet brush. He grabs it, shoving it into his mouth and scrubbing it.

"Dude, that's the toilet brush, you idiot!" Patrick yells.

"I don't care, I need to get rid of it!"

"Rid of what?" I ask, highly amused.

"Wentz germs!" He shouts, sounding kind of like a distressed goat.

"Hey!" Pete yells, sounding offended.

After Joe's bitch fit, he walks back into the room we're in, glaring at me. Fuck.

He walks towards me, and I scramble up off the floor, running away. He sprints after me, and I start thanking everyone for the suckish life I've had in twenty seven different languages and accepting the death that I know will follow.

"No, Joe! Stay away from me!"

He suddenly tackles me, and we crash to the floor, and I squirm under his vise-like grip. Then he starts tickling me.

"No! Joe! Stop- stop tickling! Get off! Getoffgetoffgetoffgetoff!"

He tortures me for a while, until Patrick pulls him off of me.

"Thanks, bro," I say, out of breath. He nods at me and grabs Joe by the ear, dragging him back to the living area. That short little man just saved my life.