His Tiny Dancer [COMPLETED]

XXXIV

~Friday February 25th~

"And then, oh you're gonna love this part," Noah says, but I can barely hear him because of how hard I'm laughing. "Shh, be quiet, come on you gotta listen!" Noah says, laughing himself. I try to collect myself as much as possible, taking deep breaths and looking behind him at the wall, not thinking about the story he's telling. I manage to stop laughing and stay quiet for a few seconds, but I can still feel my face tingling from the lack of oxygen getting to my body. I think that I'm ready for him to continue, but as soon as I look back at his face I lose it again, doubling over in ugly, almost silent laughs.

"Oh come on!" Noah says, breaking out into a laughing fit of his own. "I haven't even got to the funny part yet!"

"How is Melody trying to flush your phone down the toilet not the funny part?" I say in between gasps. I clutch my stomach as I try to calm down enough to be able to breathe properly, but this is a very difficult task when every time I feel slightly more collected a small snort escapes from Noah and I completely lose it again.

Noah calms himself down and tries to continue the story. "I'm just going to ignore the fact that you're still dying over there and continue," he says to me as I have my head down on the kitchen table, my shoulders shaking as I continue to laugh. "I walked into the bathroom because she wasn't potty trained yet, so there was no good reason for her to be in there. Just as she was about to flush the toilet I walked in and she looked up at me. All she did was say 'uh-ohs' and point to my phone like she didn't put it in there completely intentionally," Noah says as he breaks out into laughter yet again. At this point I don't even remember what about this story was that funny, I'm just laughing at the fact that I'm laughing. But I don't want to question it; it feels good to laugh like this, without one care in the world.

"This should not be so funny to you, I had to get a new phone," Noah exclaims through his own laughter. I can't get myself to make words, so I bring my hand up and point at him while keeping my head and other arm on the table. "Oh, that's why it's so funny to you. Thanks, thanks so much," he says but I know he's not actually offended because he is still laughing. "Well that's it. That's the end of the story." I give myself a few more seconds to calm back down before rolling my head on the table onto one shoulder so that I can look up at him. I had a feeling that when I looked at his face I would burst out laughing again, but seeing him looking right back down at me with the side of his head resting on his hand - making his cheek squished just a little bit - makes me freeze.

"You're a mess right now," he says.

"Yeah," I say nodding my head as I feel the dampness of my cheeks from the tears that were trickling out of my eyes. I sit up and ignore the slight lightheadedness I feel as I wipe my cheeks with the sleeves of my shirt.

"I didn't think that story would be that funny."

"I honestly don't know why it was," I respond, finally feeling like I've caught my breath. I glance at the clock above the stove and am disappointed to see the time. "I need to get ready for dance," I sigh, looking back at Noah. I watch as his face drops significantly more than I expected.

"We didn't even start studying," he practically whines as we both look down at our backpacks, unopened on the floor by our chairs.

"That is not my fault." I look back up and point one finger at him accusingly.

"What time are you at the studio until tonight?" He asks with a growing smirk.

"I think nine," I respond as I pull out my phone to check the schedule.

"Do you have a dinner break?"

"Uhhh," I zoom in on the picture of the schedule. "Yes, from five-thirty to six-forty-five."