Sleepover (part one)
"Are you guys . . . Are you, like, wearing . . . Aprons?" Frank finally managed. "Why?" Gerard whispered. " . . . And why are you, like, covered in flour?"
Ray shook his head, almost like disapproval, or something. "These morons . . . " He pointed his thumb at Bert and Bob respectively. " . . . Are baking. Guys, seriously, they are actually, like, baking cupcakes," he sighed.
Bert blushed, Bob bit his lip, and Ray rubbed his temples (like his father sometimes did after a long, difficult day).
"We were supposed to be finished sooner, but . . . " Bob started. "We got distracted tasting the batter," Bert finished. Ray sighed.
"They mean they were feeding it to each other," Ray said. Mikey laughed, Gerard beamed and Frank giggled.
"Are they in the oven yet?" Gerard asked. Bert and Bob nodded in reply. "Finally!" Ray exclaimed.
"Why didn't you help them bake, Ray?" Mikey asked. His tone was almost teasing. "Ugh! I'll cut your knees, Mikeyway!" Ray mumbled. "I'll shave your 'fro in your sleep, Toro!" Mikey retaliated.
Everyone laughed, but Ray kept quiet after that. If there was one thing he took very seriously, it was his amazing 'fro. He would've rather kept quiet and protect his 'fro than have a small victory over Mikey, because, he feared, he would've looked awfully terrible (or terribly awful - he couldn't exactly decide) as a bald boy. He wasn't completely 100% positive, but he was absolutely in no hurry, whatsoever, to find out.
Aprons were removed. Noses, cheeks, foreheads, elbows and hands were cleared of all leftover flour. Jokes were made. Cheeks blushed. Eyes rolled. Cupcakes finished being baked, were removed from the oven, and were carefully decorated (by six eager boys) with sweet chocolate frosting and colorful sprinkles, when they were finally cooled down enough.
Later, the boys were all laughing (giggling, really), eating cupcakes (and other goodies), playing video games and joking around.
Bob's mother eventually beckoned them all for dinner. They went, albeit half reluctantly, and ate the dinner Mrs. Bryar gave them. She just shook her head knowingly. She knew all too well what risky business it could be to allow boys to feast on sweets before dinner, but she didn't complain. She allowed them their fun, because they were simply enjoying their weekend (and even had the decency to actually eat the dinner she provided, after stuffing themselves with sweets - without so much as one single complaint about it, no less). Besides, she thought to herself, they were really great boys.
After dinner, the boys resumed their previous actions, while Mrs. Bryar cleared the table and washed the dishes. Bob, being the total sweetheart that he was, offered to help, of course. His mother dismissed him with a warm smile, though. Bob figured she deserved a kiss on the cheek for that.
"I like Bert," she informed him. He couldn't help beaming at her. "Yeah," he whispered, because he really liked Bert, too. He wasn't really aware of the fact that his mother knew that, however. Mothers know everything, though. She gently touched his cheek, still smiling brightly at him. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm pretty sure he likes you too."
Bob gulped. She couldn't help the little laugh escaping her at his flushed little face. "W-what?" he asked. She placed a quick kiss on his forehead. "Don't worry, okay? Hey! Why don't you go join your friends? I'll finish up here," she reassured him. He was only too grateful to comply.
(To be continued...)