What's That Supposed To Mean? - Werewolf Romance

What's That Supposed To Mean? - 37

(There is a similar message on my board, if anyone saw that)

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAAAAAAR!

Haha lol, HEY EVERYONE!

Sorry I haven't updated in a while, this month has been pretty busy. And now I have writers bloooock and I don't feel like writiiing but I do want to write at the same time and blablablaaa.. haha oh well, it will come back soon, like it always does :) BUT, for now, I DO have chapters for you guys so here's an update.

I hope you had a good Christmas and that you will have a great New Year! ENJOY!

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Chapter 37

We were in the waiting room, Noah and I, here to pick up Uncle John and finally bring him home. We had been waiting for an hour because Uncle J was sleeping and we had decided to stay here at the hospital and wait. It wasn't boring, let me tell you. Noah was making us both crack up in laughter and the two people here, one older woman and one midddle aged man, were throwing glares at us. Well, the woman mostly. The man had given up after thirty minutes but she was still at it and we were nowhere near stopping.

“I mean... that is...” Noah's scrunched up face made me burst. He was currently eyeing celeberities in a magazine that showed pictures of weird things on their bodies or them in weird positions with their arms and legs. I was clutching my stomach as I was leaning forward in my chair, trying to laugh quietly. “That angle... What IS that?”

There's more to the story, I'm not laughing so hard just because of his face, if that's what you think. He had gotten me in my laugh-mode and once I'm there, it's very hard to get out. Fun for me, not so fun for the people around me. Tears were slowly making their way down my cheeks as I wiped my eyes continously.

“These people are nuts. I have no idea what's going on in their heads.”

“Fame has gotten to their head,” I said when I could, taking the opportunity to speak without having breathing problems.

“Samantha, can you please shut up already?” Noah asked in a normal voice, looking at me with weird eyes, glancing at the old woman. I just continued laughing, knowing he was acting stupid – again and innocent. “Your laugh is annoying me.”

I punched him lightly on the shoulder and he chuckled.

“Your face is annoying me,” I muttered once my laughing was – kind of – over.

“Your voice is annoying me.”

“Your head is annoying me. It's too big.”

“Your nails annoy me. They're too clean.”

I gave him a “what-the-f?” look, laughing at that, but continued.