Kidnapped, Unfortunately

Chapter Twenty Three

We all settled down on the couches with steaming mugs of hot chocolate, our faces still flushed from the bitter outside air.

"That wasn't funny, guys," Jacob pointed out, pouting into his mug.

I snorted. "Maybe for you. But for the rest of us- it was hilarious!"

Everyone chuckled but him, and I took a sip of the warm hot chocolate. It sent a warmth down my throat that I savored, as Carson began, "I can't believe it's almost Christmas."

Wait, what?!

I looked up from my cup, startled. "What day is it?!"

Camille frowned. "You didn't know? It's the twenty eighth."

WHAT?

"We've been here for a week?!" I cried out, springing up. "My parents must be freaking out!"

Carson waved my concern away with his hand, whilst taking a gulp from his mug. "It's fine, we've already sent them fake letters."

"Well unless you've misspelled about half of it, I doubt they're actually gonna believe it's me!" I countered.

"Woah, woah, woah," Jacob stood, putting his hands out. "Let's all just calm down. There's no need for yelling. Let's be quiet."

"You've just said the same thing three times," I glared.

He gave me one right back. "I needed to make sure someone of your intelligence could understand it."

"This coming from someone I tricked into a hole three minutes ago!"

"I did it on purpose!"

"Yeah, I bet that's what your mom said about having you!"

"Guys!" Carson barked, standing up too.

Jacob and I locked eyes with each other, seething.

He scowled at each of us in turn. "You both need to calm down... and... go to your rooms!"

Jacob and I bother spun around to face him.

"What?!" We cried out.

"You heard me!" Carson insisted. "Go up and think about what you did."

"We're not twelve!" Jacob protested.

"At least one of us isn't," I muttered crossly, and Jacob glared at me again.

"That's it," Jacob began. "I've had enough talk."

"Oh, you wanna fight?" I asked, spreading my arms out. "Be my guest."

"Nope! Absolutely not," Carson intervened again. But we weren't listening to him anymore.

"Arm wrestle," Jacob challenged, staring into my eyes intensely. "Right here, right now."

"Bring it," I said.

"I will."

"Fine!"

"Ok!"

"Just do it," Carson complained. "I'm getting a headache."

We quickly pushed everything off of the coffee table, and sat on the floor.

Hayley watched us curiously, but a bit worried, as if she'd never seen an arm wrestle before.

I set my elbow on the table, holding my hand out.

Jacob repeated the action, grabbing onto my hand.

"Is this really necessary?" Hayley questioned, looking quite uncomfortable.

"Yes it is!" Camille chanted, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"Yes, it's how you-" While Jacob was distracted talking, I quickly slammed his arm down on the glass and jumped up triumphantly.

"HAHAHA!" I laughed, pointing at his face. "EAT THAT SUCKER!"

"WHAT?!" He exclaimed. "That's not fair!"

"Yes it was!" I claimed. "It's your own fault for not paying attention to the game."

"I demand a rematch," Jacob spoke lowly, his face turning a dark shade of red.

"Hmm... let me think," I tapped my chin, pretending to be deep in thought. "Rematch declined."

He cursed under his breath.

"Well," Carson started, standing back up and luxuriously stretching his arms above his head. The action lifted his shirt up, briefly exposing his flat torso, and I noticed Jacob roll his eyes. "That was interesting. But maybe we should focus on meals. Like lunch?"

Camille nodded. "Lunch sounds great."

"I could eat," I added.

"I could eat your head on a plate," Jacob growled.

This disturbed me.

"Let's do it," Hayley smiled, glad that the fight was done.

"What do we even have?" I wondered.

"I'm pretty sure nothing," Hayley said, sheepishly. "I used the leftovers for my snowman. But it was worth it."

"Well, as long as it was worth it," Carson said. "I could call in a pizza?"

I couldn't help my outburst. "Yes, PLEASE!"

I hadn't had pizza in so long, I was definitely going crazy. The crispy crust, cheesy top, and sweet tomato middle.

"Awesome." Carson reached for the phone and quickly dialed a number. It rang a few times before being picked up. "Hello, can I get three pizzas with..." He trailed off, looking at us. "What do you guys want?"

"Pepperoni," Hayley requested.

"Cheese," Camille and Jacob said in sync.

"Onions, peppers, bacon, garlic, and basil please," I said.

He relayed this information onto the guy, who promptly hung up and went to make them,

"Nothing like a good pizza to bring everyone together," I smiled.

There was nothing a good old-fashioned pizza couldn't do.