Chapter Two (I've given up on naming them, people)

"Totally cool!" Dylan shouted, leaning over my shoulder. Sarah and Lila and departed with their parents earlier that morning, leaving Dylan and I to browse through google pics of New York.
"Ooh, look at this one," I said, leaning closer to the computer screen. "'Midtown skyline from Queens-New York, New York." I read aloud.

"Beautimous," Dylan announced. "Try page sixteen." I glanced at her curiously.

"Why so specific?"

She grinned at me.

"My lucky number."

After about fifteen minutes of perusing images, we heard the doorbell ring.

"Oh," groaned Dylan, "that'll be my parents."

"You'd better get your stuff," I said, exiting out of internet explorer and getting up. I followed Dylan into my room. Dylan trotted to the foot of my bed and heaved a CESA duffle bag onto her shoulders while I shot a quick look in the bathroom. Seeing Dylan's toothbrush lying on the counter, I grabbed it, ready to hand it to her, but immediately dropped it with a sound of disgust.

"Dylan!" I glared at her. She turned around and met my glare with a puzzled look.

"What?"

I extended a hand covered in crusty half-wet half-dry toothpaste.

"Gross with a capital 'G'!" I wrinkled my nose and shuddered, stomping over to the sink and turning it on, letting the cool water run over my hand. I shot a venemous glance at Dylan. She shrugged, impassive, and made to pick up her toothbrush. I snatched it from her outstretched hand with an exasperated sigh.

"Don't just put it in your bag like that!" I snapped. I held the toothbrush under the water and scrubbed it, handle and all, until the water ran clean. Then I handed it back to her, carefully leaving it sopping wet. Dylan pushed her lower lip out in a pretend pout and shoved it in her bag.

"That is the last time I pick up your toothbrush!" I growled, turning off the water and drying my hands on a towel. Dylan grinned.

"You said that last time," she giggled.

"I forgot," I said waspishly. Dylan had an unfortunate habit of never cleaning off her toothbrush, and every time she slept over, I ended up picking up her toothbrush one way or another, resulting in a toothpaste-covered hand. Before Dylan could retort, my mom's voice rang through through the house, reaching my upstairs bedroom.

"Dyyyylaaan! Your dad is here!"

Dylan grabbed her book, Maximum Ride, off my nightstand and dashed downstairs, closely followed by myself. At the end of the stairs, in the entry hall, stood Dylan's dad. With his carrot-red hair Dylan had obviously inherited, with his sky-blue eyes, he smiled jovially as he spotted Dylan.

"Hey," Dylan said. She and I hovered awkwardly between Dylan's dad and my parents as the three talked. After a few moments, Dylan's dad spoke.

"...So I hear Dylan's been invited to New York!" he said, turning to me. "For Miss Emma's birthday, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir," I smiled. He looked at my parents.

"For how long?"

"We'll be sending out an email with all the information as the time comes closer," said my mom, "but we plan to be there for a week."

Dylan's dad nodded as my father spoke.

"We'll be leaving and coming back on a Wenesday, so we can experience New York on the weekend and during the business week."

"Good, good," Dylan's father said, smiling and glancing at the door. "Well, Dylan and I should be getting home soon. Her mother's taking the kids to the pool." He motioned to Dylan. Dylan and I hugged and I whispered,

"You have to come to New York! Hear me? Have to!"

Dylan grinned and nodded as her dad put a hand on her shoulder.

"Bye," she called over her shoulder, walking out the door, "I had so much fun! Thank you!"

"Thanks for coming!" I shouted back. "Bye!"

She and I called goodbyes to each other until the door closed behind Dyland and her dad. I stood there a moment, feeling empty with that end-of-a-slumber-party feeling. With a clap of her hands, my mom turned to me.

"Well," she said briskly, "you might as well send out that New York information earlier rather than later."

"M'kay," I said, twirling a lock of my hair.

Oh, sorry, I've gtg. Lunch time! Smells like my brother's tomato soup. Jason has turned into quite a good cook. Okay, my stomach has been growling for the past hour. I'll finish this chapter after lunch. Ttyl!

§Emma§