"The original bad boy . . . is never punctual."

15| Parade Crashers

"Happy birthday to you!"

All of us finish with loud clapping as Mom cuts a slice of cake. All day long, I kept Mom out of ruining the surprise party dad and his friends had planned for weeks. All Mom's close friends came to the restaurant to celebrate her forty sixth birthday.

She claims she's twenty with twenty six years of experience.

One of her friends help cut out cake slices and pass it along to everyone. Dad gestures me to join him in front of the twenty some people. Honestly, this much attention makes me nervous.

"Gina, before you open anyone else's present," Dad starts, "Val and I would like to say a few words."

When did we establish that?

I frown at dad for catching everyone, including myself off guard.

"Say something nice," Mom says, giving us a go. She earns a lot of laughs.

"Don't I always?" Dad winks. I pretend to gag as Mom visibly blushes. "Alright, I can't believe today's the day I proposed to you, twenty years ago. At that time, I was nothing but an orphan handling my deceased uncle's business." I realize a bit late that dad's actually on to serious business. My mom's eyes are slightly watery, but she keeps them focused on dad. "Since the restaurant was doing awful at the time, I couldn't even afford to buy you a diamond ring. I proposed to you with a plain metal ring, which you have worn every single day."

Half laughing, half crying, Mom holds up her hand and shows everyone the old, scratched ring.

"I thought she was joking whenever she said it was her wedding ring," I say, voicing my thoughts. A few of their friends seem to be in agreement to.

"Well, we're going to change that," my father says. We all gasp as he pulls out a Tiffany's box from his pocket and asks Mom to join the "family picture." Her eyes pop wide as her friends nudge her to us. Dad pulls out a gorgeous diamond ring and places it on her finger. Like the rest of the humans, I'm stunned.

"Oh god, this is so . . . beautiful. You didn't have to . . . " Mom falls short for words.

"Back then I couldn't do a lot for you. Now, I can, so I will."

Who knew dad was such a romantic person?

I suppose this chef does have thoughts of things other than cooking and eating.

"I love you," Mom says and I turn away as they kiss.

It's extremely awkward and uncomfortable. Everyone's either crying, aweing, or cheering for the couple. Why dad wants me over here is beyond comprehension.

"Okay okay, one more thing," dad says finally. "Val, stand next to your mom." I oblige to his order. Maybe he's finally going to bring up the diner. Indeed, he runs to one of the tables and brings back a file. Mom looks at me questioningly, but I feign a confused glance as well. "Although Val knows about it . . . this place is actually for both of the women in my life." Now, I'm genuinely lost. Dad smiles and hands Mom the folder. "I bought a diner for both of you.".

Maybe it's in my blood, but I always wanted to follow in dad's footsteps and feed people.

Him actually buying something for me (as well as Mom) is nothing less than a shock.

Not as much as a different realization.

"You made me help clean it up, though," I say in an accusing tone. Everyone laughs. "How's that a present?"

"Sorry sweetie, I wanted you to decorate it to your liking. No one else could do that, now could they?" Dad reasons. I shrug, accepting his explanation. It's best to shut up before he decides to take it away.

"You knew about this?" I forgot Mom, who has been busy staring at the contents of the folder, might have some questions. I nod in response. "This is too much," Mom tells dad. "First, the party. Then, this ring. Now, another diner? Bennet, are you okay?"

"True that. Dad, you okay?" I mimic Mom's tone.

"You've got yourself a keeper, stop complaining!" One of mom's friends yell.

"Can we eat?" Another one asks.

Rolling our eyes, my parents and I break our family moment. As I make my way back to my original seat, I see a figure standing outside the restaurant. We have it closed today, though. Just as I edge closer to see the face of the person, he hurries away.

Oh whatever.

Probably some creep.

¤》¤《¤

Fifteen minutes.

That's how long I have been waiting outside the diner for Arsen.

Did I hear him say the wrong time? I could've sworn he told me eight thirty.

After another ten minutes of tiresome waiting, I decide to leave. Not even two steps forward and a bike stops next to the sidewalk. It's not any other bike.

It's Arsen's bike.

With its owner.

"Leaving without me?" he asks.

"I don't want to be late," I reply, crossing my arms.

"Then hurry up and sit down," he urges.

"Sit on what?"

"Me."

"What?"

"Are you blind or plain stupid?" he asks me rudely. "Get on the bike, Cruz, if you don't want to be late to a haunted house." My eyes flicker over his face and then his bike. Last time I saw this thing, it flipped and crashed at a bad angle. Is it worth the risk? I mean, it did take a lot of convincing from dad to mom to let me go. They still think I'm out with my best friends. Seeing my reluctance, Arsen says, "It's not like you've never ridden a bike with me before."

He falls dead silent right afterwards.

Instead of arguing or complaining, I cautiously sit down behind him.

"Don't run into the wall like last time," I whisper.

"We're not driving inside a garage nor am I nine," he says, referring to the little stunt we pulled years ago. One of us thought it was a great idea to elope to Canada on his dad's bike. Let's just say, we were both found on the ground in his parents' garage, crying and screaming for our mothers. "Mind you, I am unbeatable at dirt bike racing."

"Didn't you lose last time?"

"Thanks to you."

"Can we get moving already?" I complain, changing the subject. "If we're late, I'll cry." If there's one thing Arsen hates the most in the world, it's girls crying.

"Fine. Hold on tight."

His warning gives me just enough time to grab his jacket as we breeze down the street. It's not everyday I ride on bikes with Arsen Frasier. The whole ride chilly October wind breezes through my open hair and I shut my eyes tightly, hugging Arsen. Like his usual self, he's stiff as a stick. Isn't he used to having girls riding on this?

Anyways, we reach our destination safely.

Without falling and almost cracking our heads open.

As I remove my arms around him, I say, "I'm definitely learning how to drive a bike one of these days."

"Don't you worry about public safety?"

"Shut up." Grumpily, I get off and head towards the entrance while Arsen parks his vehicle. For some reason, there's a crowd of people waiting there. People are shouting profanities at the men in charge. I turn to one of the girls my age. "What's going on?"

"They cancelled everything!" she snaps.

The whole world comes crashing down. "What?! Why?"

"'Technical difficulties,'" she says with air quotes.

Behind me, Arsen comes up and asks what the problem is. Some guy yells at everyone to fall silent and decides to answer my partner's inquiry.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the last time we're saying this. Everything is shut down. There have been some technical difficulties inside the haunted house, therefore we can't allow you to go in. We'll refund money to those who've already purchased the tickets. We're extremely sorry for the inconvenience."

"Well, that was shorter than I anticipated," Arsen remarks.

No joke.

Three years. I wait three years only to encounter more disappointment. First, my friends back out last minute. Second, this place is closed. Third, I have nothing to do . . . like every other weekend.

I turn away in disappointment and Arsen notices it as well.

"Cruz, if you shed a single tear, I'll run you over with my bike," he threatens. He's done it to Ben before.

I gulp. "I believe you."

He sighs heavily. "So, what's the plan, now?"

"Go home. What else?" I mumble grumpily. "Everything's ruined, anyways." Trudging up to his bike, I wait for the slowpoke. Silently, both of us get on. Instead of holding on to him, I clutch the little area under my seat behind me. It only works for the first two minutes because afterwards, the bike picks up speed. My arms are back around Arsen's stomach. "Slow down!" I shout.

He does the exact opposite.

"DON'T KILL ME!" I scream terrified. I hug him tighter, worried for my life. "Arse!"

"Just hold on!" He yells back.

We're basically asking a cop to pull us over for travelling at the speed of light. Well, almost. Random cars honk at us and people shout. In the midst of this commotion, I see us going past my street. Arsen's not taking me home.

What's he planning then?

"Where are we going?" I yell in his ear.

No response. Not until the bike stops at a local Dollar Tree, I let go of him. I don't even know what he's planning as we rush off the bike.

"C'mon!" He grabs my hand and drags me inside.

Arsen runs around and grabs a few cheap Halloween costumes. The one he gets me simply a long black fabric with rips and cuts everywhere. It's so oversized that I can easily slip it on top of my clothes. In addition to that, he hands me a makeshift black halo-tiara. I no longer know whether I'm an angel or a demon.

He buys face paint and a pair of scissors for himself.

We only took like ten minutes for all that. When we get back to the bike, he instructs me to "mess up my face in the worst way possible while I cut my clothes."

"What is this for?" I ask.

"You'll know. Trust me a little, Cruz. I don't disappoint."

Sighing, I use the brush and paint his face pale white and then use crimson to indicate blood splattered at random places. Meanwhile, he makes brutal cuts to his clothes, tearing away the fabric like it's a piece of meat. He's aiming for a zombie type look from all those hanging fabrics. We finish soon enough and he's ready to go.

"Hey, don't you want to paint my face?" I ask.

"Nah. It's hideous enough already." How rude! I chuck the brush at him. Laughing, he continues, "Chill. Let's get going before we miss it as well." He's completely vague about his plans

"And what's it?"

Ignoring me, his creepy expression morphed into a thoughtful one. "Should we leave the bike here?" He mumbles to himself. "Oh well. It's going to be a long walk either way."

"What are you saying?" I try for the umpteenth time.

"Let's go," he says cheerfully. As he jogs down the street, I follow behind and search everywhere for a sign of what Arsen's planning. Are we going trick-o-treating? Isn't eighteen too old?

Maybe he wants to go around scaring people?

But many people are out on the streets in costumes.

My ears soon catch a booming sound of multiple drums, trumpets, and other musical instruments. There's a Halloween parade coming down the street with a massive audience. Arsen's a bit further up ahead, gesturing me to hurry. He tightly holds my hand in his, giving me assurance he was there. Following behind him, I smile. As much as he stays away from me or gives off the I-don't-care vibe, a part of him cares. Even worries. About me.

"Now, we have to subtly get in the parade when they stop to dance," he whispers in my ear.

I freeze. "No." I thought we were going to watch. "Only professionals are allowed in there! And I can't dance!"

"Live a little," he says, meeting my eyes. I shake my head furiously. Living a little is not an excuse I'd like to tell the police if they catch us. "Trust me. It'll be fun."

Much against my protests, he drags me close to the middle of the parade. We stand on the sidewalk with the rest of the people admiring the grand parade. The music, the costumes, the spirit--it's creativity at it's finest. There are large speakers in the parade as well. When the Thriller begins playing, everyone in the parade stops and begins to zombie dance.

I laugh. It looks hilarious.

Michael Jackson would be in tears at the beautiful dancing.

"It's time we join the dark side," Arsen says creepily.

He pulls me along and we sneak into the parade. Immediately, he begins dancing the repeated steps everyone else is doing. I just stand there, staring agape at him.

Seeing a few eyes on me, I also start dancing.

A random devil hands me a pair of cymbals. "I'm so exhausted."

I fit in the parade like marshmallows in a mug of hot chocolate. Arsen's next to me as the parade starts walking again. Purposefully, I clash the cymbals next to his ear and he flinches. When I attempt it again, he grabs one of them.

I bat my eyelashes like an innocent angel.

He shakes his head, clarifying he isn't giving it back.

"What am I supposed to do with one cymbal?!" I ask him.

"Together?" He proposes.

I grin and nod. We clap the cymbals together, one in his hand and one in mine. As our eyes meet every single time the instrument produces a sound, my heart skips a beat. My whole body wants to inch closer to him, even though we're extremely close to each other. There's a ghost of a smile on his lips. No matter how creepy it looks, I know it's real. I haven't seen such happiness and exuberance on Arsen's face before.

Normally, I'm fire and he's ice.

Today, we're both mixed and created a wonderful time for ourselves.

Rather than falling in a Nightmare, I'm in a daydream.

This experience, this moment, this time is something inexplicable.

It's as if, for one moment, we're back to how we used to be.

Nothing we'll be able to recreate again.

¤》¤《¤

A/N

Did you expected a change of plans? No Nightmare?

How was the chaper in total?

I updated before midnight! Yay! Oh and for those who didn't know, the update is late because of the damn ebay charger. I still love ebay though.

Any questions, comments, or concerns?

Please vote · comment · share to help this book maybe win in the wattys <3 I'm very grateful for the amazing support so far. I seriously wasn't expecting people to give this book a chance. Means a lot <3