Chapter 27- Red Velvet

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I let out a long frustrating sigh as I walk over to the bunk beds. I face plant onto one of the bottom bunks and sigh once more, not caring at all about my surroundings. I have to share a room with Brianna. Ugh!

The room isn't anything special. Two white bunk beds pushed against the pearl coloured wall and the corner of the room. A white dresser between them and a book shelf beside the dresser. A window is above the dresser and above the beds are frames of old photos of Maddy, Brianna and I when we were younger.

Then I jump up.

Wait, then who's the next person?

Madelyn, Brianna and I...

Marisa maybe? Most likely.

"Lucky?"

Don't answer to that disastrous and atrocious nickname. Don't answer. "Yea?" Damn, you! You stupid mouth! You never listen to the wise brain.

"Is that a younger version of you or is it Marisa?" I turn to stare confusingly at him then follow his line of sight. Above the top bunk of the next bed is a simply framed photo of possibly 11 year old me laughing with a tanned blonde with dark brown eyes, almost black. Her hair was shoulder length and wavy. We were wearing matching clothes, I, a black short sleeved top with a white mini skirt and she was wearing the same but with the opposite colour pattern. We were both wearing golden charm bracelets around our right wrists. She was slightly taller than me in the photo, I thank my lovely black ankle boots for making me look taller. We were standing in front this same villa, right by the fountain. In the picture, we actually looked really cheerful, but fun fact, a half an hour before it was taken, the two of us got into an argument about chocolate.

There was writing engraved into the frame, "Madison Witson and Gracie Starr- Age 11"

"Yep. That's me!"

"Holy- You really do look like Marisa!"

"No! Marisa looks like me." I roll my eyes and sigh. I'm too tired for this.

"What?"

"I- Never mind." I lie flat on the bed again with my face sinking into the mattress. I sudden wave of exhaustion comes over me. I frown and cradle my head with my arms.

"Who's beside you?" One side of the bed sinks down indicating that he sat down somewhere beside me.

"An old friend of mine." I answer briefly in a muffled sound.

He hums in response. "Not friends anymore?" He continues to pry. Please stop.

"Something along those lines."

"Gracie? Hey, isn't that the name of your dog?" He pokes my side making me squirm and roll on a side to face him. My vision begins to blur and I can feel the hated lump building up in my throat as I stare up at him.

"Yea. It's the name of my dog." I try very hard not to make my voice sound shaky. I face plant into the mattress again and sigh. "It's named after her. Both Gracie and Starr."

He starts to play and gently tug strands of my curly hair. "You have the same picture in your room back at home." He whisper ever so softly.

"You saw that?"

"Yea. You tried to hide it but when I was in your room. But after the incident, I saw it on your nightstand." He explains. "You also have one of her, you and Madelyn as your lock screen."

I quickly turn my head on a side, luckily my hair is extremely long so Zayden didn't pop strands from my roots, and glare at my butler. "Are you becoming a stalker?" He just smiles sweetly at me.

"Maybe."

"I'm.. Terrified..."

He laughs twisting one of my strands around his finger. "Don't worry. If I hurt you, I don't get a pay check." He says.

"That doesn't make me feel any better. If anything, I'm more terrified! You sound like a kidnapper, Zay!" He laughs again and I smile at that. He looks so peaceful and carefree when he laughs. Then again, when doesn't he? "Don't be surprised if I run away!"

Then he looks at me with those up-to-no-good eyes and mischievous smirk. "Oh~ You're not getting away from me!"

"What are you- OH MY GOD, ZAYDEN! STOP!" I squeak and squirm when Zayden starts tickling my sides. "YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY!" I squeeze my eyes shut. I can't hold in my laughter anymore!

The bastard doesn't stop! "At least you're gonna be laughing while doing it!" He answers smugly then laughs with me. But for a totally different reason! He's laughing at me!

"ZAYDEN!!" I screech while laughing with a tear rolling down the side of my face. "I SWEAR I WILL MURDER YOU!" I try pushing his hands away as I squirm. But THE DAMN GUY IS STRONG! Or am I just weak...?

"I'll stop if you tell me something about little Lucky." Sneaky Little-

"No!"

"Suit yourself!"

OMG goodness! Help! Send help! Can no one hear me outside?! I swear, THIS ROOM IS NOT SOUND PROOF! "FINE! FINE! I'LL TELL YOU!"

He chuckles and immediately stops. I sit up panting, trying to catch my breath. My fricking sides are aching! Everywhere is aching! And Zayden is just laughing at me!

When I finally catch my breath, I reach over and slap the culprit on his arm, extremely hard. That slap fricking echoed, it had to sting! I don't care if it started to bruise or turn red! He deserved it!

"Ow! LUCKY! Jesus!" He grips the area with his other hand.

Okay.. Maybe I do care... Only a little bit, though. Just a tiiiiiny bit.

"Omg.. I'm sorry. I didn't meant to hit you that hard! I mean I did, but like not that, that hard. Okay no that's a lie- why am I even apologising!" I'm such a moron.

He rolls his eyes. "Forget about it. It's fine. Just fulfill the promise."

I seriously try to rack my brain for a moment. When it comes to saying memories at random, inappropriate times, I'm the absolute master. But when I have to actually trying to remember something, I have the memory of a rock.

Zayden snorts, knocking me out of my thinking process. "You look constipated."

I roll my eyes. "Shut up! It's my thinking face!" And got back to thinking.

It probably took like 10 minutes.

"Oh!"

"Finally!" Zayden exclaims. "I thought it'd take a decade!"

I roll my eyes, again, at the remark. "I think I was around 10. The chefs and stuff were on vacation and everyone else was in their rooms. But I was hungry and I wanted cake. So I decided to bake my own."

"Oh no.."

"Young me had never ever been in a kitchen before, seeing as we had chefs and I was terribly spoiled. But I had seen the chef make cake before. Or well part of it. I thought that cake only needed flour."

"That's not how you make cake, Lucky."

"Too late to tell me that now. I still thought it looked at little too white and I wanted red velvet cake. We have some strawberry juice in a cooler so I put some of that in and mixed it up. It looked red... At the time, I thought the stove and the oven were some sort of magic machine, so if I put something in there, it would automatically turn out to be delicious and already decorated and on a tray-" He looks at me funny. "I had a wild imagination, okay?! Anyways! So I shoved the the whole entire thing in the oven, mixing bowl, wooden spoon and all, put it too like what 400 degrees? And just waited."

"You set the stove on fire?"

"I set the kitchen on fire." I correct him. "That's where got this scar from." I roll up my jeans a bit over my ankle to reveal a black scar. "Got in a whole lot of trouble afterward, but, on the bright side, got my cake in the end!"

He shakes his head in disappointment. "Still can't cook?"

"I can use the toaster?"

He laughs and crosses his arms across his chest. This idiot was laughing at my misfortune! Which is ironic because my middle name is Luck!

I'm so sorry.

I just ruined your day.

"Imma teach you how to cook later on in life."

"It would be a miracle if I actually learn." I smile at him. "Now you, tell me something about little you?"

"Fine by me." He shrugs. "I think this was on my 14th birthday and all I wanted was a PlayStation- yes I'm a PS person. I was going through that emo faze. I got a big gift that day and I knew what it was so I wanted to open it first. Might I tell you that I was by the stairs. Bad idea, I know. And I sitting trying to tear it open but the damn wrapping paper wouldn't rip open so I got frustrated and pushed it. And the entire box when rolling down the 23 stone stairs and hit right into my dog at the bottom."

"Did it break?" I cover my mouth and widen my eyes in shock.

"It didn't break. Just didn't wanna turn on. I had to pay for it, I didn't get allowance for a year." He frowns.

Then I think back.

"Wait. You have a dog?!"

He nods but with a frown on his face. "Yea."

"Awww! What is his name? What is he?"

"Minnie. She was a Golden Retriever mix." Was? "She died last year though. Old age. Got her when I was around 8." Oh! That explains why he looked so sad when he was looking at Gracie that one time.

"I'm sorry.." I mutter pulling him into a hug and stroke his hair. Soon after he wraps his arms around me. "She lived a long, healthy and happy life. She enjoyed lively her entire life with you."

"You're making it seem like I feel extremely awful. I'm okay. I'm glad she lived as long as she did." He pulls after teasingly tugging one of ginger hair strands. Ow. "What about Gracie? Was she your best friend?"

"Yea..." I look down at my lap and play with my fingers.

"What happened?"

She's not here, anymore.

"She's just not my friend anymore. Things happened." I stand up and pull down my shirt. Then my nonna yells at the top of her lungs. "COME DOWN, EVERYONE! DINNER'S READY!"

And when an Italian Nonna says food's ready, she's going to stuff you because there's going to be a whole variety of food on the table. And you have to eat all of it.

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Helloooo!

So um. I don't have internet. I'm stealing from people so I can get some until mine returns. School starts Tuesday. NOO! I finished this too early. And yes.

"Because red velvet cake is made from strawberry juice."

Life lesson and cooking tip from our wonderful Madison.

Please don't try this at home kids.

And the photo above doesn't exactly represent what Madison described. It was just the closest one I could find.

Thanks for reading and keeping patient.

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~Author