Strolson Twins

Chapter XVIII (Lexi and Ashley)

Asher's POV

I reached out for a random package of bleu cheese, and my hand hit another on its journey. My head snapped to the right to see an old man of about 65, with a rocking mullet. His eyes narrowed in on mine, as if challenging me. Of course, I narrowed my eyes back.

"Dance competition?" he suddenly rasped.

Curtly nodding, I took my hand back from its hovering position, and set down my basket.

"Got a song?" I asked.

"MC Hammer, Can't Touch This."

"Nice," I said, scrolling through the literal millions of songs I had purchased through Mable's credit card.

Selecting Can't Touch This by MC Hammer, the first lyric blew from my iPhone.

Can't touch this.

Duh.

I began dancing random moves in the middle of the dairy section, thinking of the stupid video and those ridiculous pants the guy wore. Idiot.

The old man soon followed, dancing his old heart out, it seemed.

After a minute, I opened my eyes to a shocked-looking Alex, holding his phone up at us. Growling internally, I lunged towards him and he cowered. Tackling him, I stole his phone from his hands and quickly deleted the video and all the pictures as he whined loudly for his phone back.

Dozens of pictures flooded his picture library, and I frowned at the number. I was laying across him, sideways, so that my back was to his stomach, my arms extended to keep his phone from his reach.

"There you go," I said, dropping the phone to him, which he missed catching, and it smacked against his face.

He picked the phone from his face, grimacing. "That wasn't very nice," he mumbled, "I can't use my hands."

He gestured to the crutches.

I rolled my eyes and got up, seeing the old man smiling at us. "Here you go, sonny," he said, tossing me the bleu cheese. "I think you won."

Shrugging, I picked up my basket of other foods and plunked the new addition to the pile inside. I turned to Alex, who was following me, holding the pre-bought food of his.

"Ready?" I asked, spilling the contents of my basket on the checkout-moving-thing.

"Yep."

"Good."

The cashier ringed it all up, and concluded it to be a grand total of $54.82. I paid 55 and waved away the change. 18 cents. Pfft.

I left with Alex trailing behind, and he spoke up suddenly as we neared the Camaro. "What was that dancing thing for?"

"Oh," I said, remembering. "Nothing much. We both wanted the last package of bleu cheese, and we had a dance competition. I think I won, because he gave me this." I pulled the package of cheese and tossed it towards him, which he caught through all his bags.

"I dunno why, though. I don't even like bleu cheese," I thought out loud.

"Cloddish," Alex mumbled.

"Do you even know the official definition of cloddish?"

He looked at me sideways.

"Obviously not." I tossed him my iPhone. "Look it up. Speaking of which, we need to get you one of these. Your Blackberry sucks you-know-what. Speaking of which, we also need to get you into a brace instead that stupid cast. People look at us funny with that lug."