The Brit and the Yank

7. Milkshake of rainbows, happiness and sprinkles

Aaaaaand I'm back! Hello my Cupcake Cuties!

How are you all? Whatcha doing? It's the weekend, woo-hoo!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

*cue scary music and ghost noises*

What are you doing to celebrate? Any one trick-or-treating? Haunted houses, anyone? Nah, I'm not bothered. Hee hee.

It's also my BFF's birthday! Yay! I still haven't gotten her anything though... I guess it'll have to be late. Sigh.

I hope you enjoy this update! Love you all!

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Chapter 7: Milkshake of rainbows, happiness and sprinkles

Aren.

Okay, I know I said I don't care about...what they say about and to me. Etc.

But... in public. In front of my brother. That's a different matter. Gulping, I dived behind a table and - for extra measure - covered my face with an oversized menu. He and his friends were not that far away, sitting around a table, chatting and chugging down milkshakes. I must admit, it was impressive. Ha, kidding. If you want to see impressive milkshake-drinking, you should see Trevor.

Minutes later, my brother was still deciding what to order, unaware of the fact that I'd disappeared mysteriously. And the 'gang' hadn't moved. And my head, shoulders, legs, feet and neck (you get the picture) were starting to ache from the awkward position I was in. Still, the last thing I needed was a headache and to get publicly humiliated by Aren.

"Hey um, are you...ordering?"

"Ah!" I squeaked, jumping up. My head swirled around to first check if the gang had spotted me (thankfully no) and then to find out who had alerted me.

A girl with ebony black hair and cat eyes, wearing the milkshake uniform, looked nervously at me. I guess she was freaked out by...you know.

I gave her a smile to calm her down. Another thing I didn't need (or want): Her reporting me to a mental institute. Not. Happening. "Er...no. I'm waiting for my brother." I gestured to him so she wouldn't think I was just stalking someone. Or something...

She nodded a bit and hastily left me. I sighed; what a freak I looked like. Seeing as I was already up on my feet and unharmed, I decided to go check on my brother. He looked upset and bothered.

"What's wrong, Trevvy?" I asked him, confused.

He whined, "My favourite milkshake! Not here!"

To be honest, I totally understood him and showed him great sympathy. I hated when ice cream shops and whatever didn't have what I needed. For example, going into WHSmith and the newest book that YOU NEED RIGHT NOW not being available. Or being late in getting your mum a present and no balloons, good presents or good decorations on sale.

Read my words:

H-O-R-R-I-B-L-E.

Anyway, so I truly felt sorry for the kid and asked what his fave ice cream flavour was.

Unfortunately, someone beat him to it.

"Lemme guess, you wanna milkshake of rainbows, happiness and sprinkles?" Aren bent down and mocked my brother right in front of me.

Trevor just blinked, grinned and gurgled, "You're stupid. Do you want ice of that burn, sweetie?"

My mouth fell open and I slapped a hand over it, stifling a laugh. Aren, face scarlet with rage, snapped his head to me and sneered, "Taught the kid how to be an ass, eh?"

"Don't make fun of my arse, it's sensitive," Trevor jabbered at him, leaving us all shocked and startled once more.

"Who is this kid? He's a genius!" I heard someone say, and, not wanting my brother to get caught up in this, I steered him away.

Of course he began to whine. He wanted a milkshake! And I would have happily taken him back - if Aren and his minions weren't there.

And also, who taught Trevor this? I asked him it, perplexed, but also in awe.

He blushed profusely after my question, arousing my curiosity even more. "N-nothing."

"Trevor Trevor Trevor. Don't you lie to me!"

He gulped, fiddling with his collar. I wasn't ready to take him home - maybe after the questioning - instead, I was leading us to the park. A fierce blush was on his face, his baby blue eyes cast to the ground. He was clearly uncomfortable.

But I.

Needed.

Answers.

"Okay okay!" he made a show of bursting out, putting up his hands in surrender. He stammered, "It's Patrycja...I think I'm in love."

I nearly burst out laughing. Seriously? In love? My brother was watching way too many...

Hold up.

Patrycja was that girl who loved to run her mouth off. She had an older sister in Year 12 who influenced her greatly, therefore affecting her choice and interests in films, people, songs, etc.

And Trevor. Sweet innocent little Trevor. Liked her??!! How? When? Why? What?!

This was crazy. It wasn't happening. My brother wasn't supposed to...

"Really. In love? With Patrycja?"

He blushed even more furiously. "Y-yes. Deeply."

Deeply.

Holy sugar lemons.

"Trevor. What. The. Heck." I shook my head. "Trevvy, Patrycja...isn't the best person to get involved with."

"You're just saying that because you're jealous," he lisped.

My eye twitched.

Patrycja was lucky she wasn't here.

And that I was a calm, controlled person.

And that I didn't have a chainsaw on me.

Clenching my teeth, I said slowly, "Trevor, you don't say that. It's mean."

"So?" he giggled.

God help me.

Maybe I should've given him the milkshake after all...

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Sorry it's short! I hope you're all great though, my Cupcake Cuties!

Enjoyed the chappie! Please make me happy and click the star Vote button - or comment your opinion!

Luuurrve you!

Read: Omertà

- cupcakecupid1222

"Young love is a flame; very pretty, often very hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. The love of the older and disciplined heart is as coals, deep, burning, unquenchable."

-- Henry Wardbeecher