Wrong Number #Wattys2016

Chapter 2- Santa Claus never liked me, I was always on his "Embarrased Of" list.

Wrong Number

Chapter 2- Santa Claus never liked me, I was always on his “Embarrassed Of” list.

Yeyy, I updated!

I made it super long to make up for the absence, sorry amigos!

But I love you people!

Enjoy!

Hugsxx

Yashie

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“Gosh! Soph, you are the craziest whacko ever!” Trish laughed, holding her stomach as she heard my entire “Wrong Number” fiasco.

“You..*guffaw*…rambled..to a *guffaw* complete *guffaw* stranger?!” She shrieked and burst into a fit of laughter.

I rolled my eyes. “Very mature Trish.” But she laughed harder, till tears were streaming down her face. So, I whacked her stomach to shut her up.

“Ow! That hurt, you idiot!” She complained hitting my arm which earned her a smack on her head.

“Stop!” She chuckled and got up going to the kitchen as the oven’s timer rang indicating the soufflé’s were ready, but before going she slapped my shoulder.

“Hey!”

“That, was for flicking me on my head.”

I muttered profanities under my breath.

“I can hear you!”

“I don’t care!”

I played with Tango while Trish puttered around the kitchen.

Trish and I though twenty three, weren’t the most mature people on the planet when around each other or our loved ones. She was a chef, she ran her own bakery and catering business, while I was an editor at a famous publishing house. For us, maturity was just plain overrated.

The smell of freshly baked chocolate chocolate soufflé’s got me salivating. Did I mention they were my favourite things in the world? Next to Nando’s chicken nugget’s?

I sneaked up inside the kitchen with Tango behind me, and when I saw Trish’s back to me as she was wiping the plate’s, I decided to sneak one soufflé of the tray.

“Nu-uh-uh, don’t you dare pick that up, you sneaky robber, or I will spank you for being naughty.” Trish warned. My eyes widened.

How did she know? Did she have eyes at the back of her head or was she this freaky twin who could read my mind?

But, meh, I’m still taking the soufflé.

As if on cue.

“I know what you are thinking, you are not picking anything. You don’t want Santa to put you on his naughty list.” Trish chastised, like I was her kid.

Her being a mother must’ve been resulting in her obsession in being creepily right, and let’s not forget the entire kid talk she was giving me.

I rolled my eyes.

“Hey! In my defense Santa never liked me, I was always on his “Embarrassed of” list.

Trish turned around and sighed dramatically.

“God, Soph, my son, is better than you.”

I grinned at the mention of my godson Marvin. He was an adorable little guy. At five years of age, he was my favourite guy in the world.