Charlie Whitmen loves sports, junk food, video games, cars and basically anything-if not everything-your average teenaged boy would find interesting. But wait a second, Charlie isn't even a boy! Oh no, she's actually a girl!
Bet you didn't see that...
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Playing the Blame Game
"Well, would you look at what the cat dragged in. You guys are here earlier than I expected. How's my favorite bunch doing on this fine day?" Patty, a waitress who has been working at Martha's Diner for eons, chimes as soon as all of the Whitmens, seven to be exact, pile into the joint.
Whenever they travel, being the rambunctious and vivacious group they are, they always seem to unintentionally attract attention wherever they venture. Add in the fact that their entire family is also blessed with good genes, making them scrumptious eye-candy, the Whitmens are a hard bunch to miss. Luckily for them, there aren't many people at the diner this morning so they won't have to deal with being ogled at or drooled over, which means that they can comfortably stuff their faces.
"Hey, Patty," Cameron beams brightly as he skips by the woman and towards their usual booth.
"Hi, Ms Patty," Alexander greets politely next.
"Sup, Pattycakes." Ian slips by and sends her a flirtatious wink that would have girls at his school squealing and hyperventilating in a matter of seconds. Believe it or not, he does have that kind of effect on the ladies.
Nick proceeds with an exhausted smile. "Hello, Mrs Waldenberg."
"How are you doing, Patster?" Chase grins, holding his fist out for a fist-bump. The woman chuckles and allows their knuckles to touch.
"Afternoon, Pat," Charlie says with a wave.
"Patricia." Mr Whitmen gives the woman a small nod of acknowledgment before he joins his kids at the biggest booth located in the back corner which seats up to eight people.
"Your elbows are in my way!" Chase huffs as he places his arms on the table.
"No, you just have huge limbs," Ian snorts, rolling his eyes.
"Nick, your foot is in my space," Cameron points out, peeved.
"It's not my fault I have long legs." His brother shrugs nonchalantly.
"Quit shoving me," Alexander groans as he jabs Chase in the ribs with his elbow.
"I'm moving. I'm not doing it on purpose, you pipsqueak," Chase retorts. A foot collides with his shin underneath the table and he yelps in pain. That is definitely going to leave a nasty bruise. "Who did that?" he scorns, glaring at Nick and Charlie who are positioned across from him. Mr Whitmen is sitting on that side as well, but Chase knows his father would never do such an immature thing. So that leaves only two suspects.
"I did," Charlie admits as she reclines and relaxes against the cushiony booth. "You're always making a fuss out of everything, Chase. Suck it up and quit being such a little bit—"
"And will you guys be having your usual?" Patty interrupts, placing two piping-hot cups of black coffee in front of Mr Whitmen and Nick.
"Yeah!" Ian exclaims enthusiastically, answering for everyone. "And if you could, an extra side of bacon cooked to perfection would be most definitely appreciated."
