The Universe Hates Me

Chapter 19

Ch. 19

FANG

I pulled into the pizza place's parking lot - a tongue twister right there, folks! - behind Max and Lissa, but I stayed behind a bit to talk to Iggy.

"Major Pain-In-Ur-Ass, we're all here. Commence Phase Two. All systems are a go?" I checked, releasing the walkie-talkie button as I made my way to the doors, lagging behind as I waited for a response.

A few seconds later, my phone beeped, followed by Iggy's voice; "Um, yeah, Sir Talk-A-Lot, it seems we have a slight problem. But don't worry, I have it all under control. Over."

I halted right in front of the door, not opening it. "What kind of problem?" I demanded.

There was a hesitant pause, before Iggy finally assured me, "Nothing you need to worry about, Snuggle-Bunny-Fluffykins. All good. I have it covered. Now get in there - they're waiting for you! Max is a'waiting! And so is Fang Jr., I'm sure!"

I ignored that last part, about to question him again, because knowing Iggy, a 'slight' problem could mean anything from 'misplacing his keys inside that squirrel's stomach' to 'accidentally dropping' a lit match onto a 'minor' explosive's fuse in the middle of the cafeteria. But Max spotted me before I could say anything, waving me over to follow her and Lissa to our table. I just prayed that Iggy had whatever this problem was under control.

A guy could dream, right?

I shoved my phone into the deep, dark, terrifying recesses of my jean's pocket as I opened the door, following Max, Lissa, and our hostess Jenny to our table.

"Danny will be your server today," Jenny told us cheerily, filling up our water glasses. "He'll be with you shortly to get your drinks. Have a nice dinner!"

She smiled at us before turning to walk off. What I didn't miss, though, was that when Max was busy reading her menu, Jenny winked at Sam. And the douche winked back.

Phase Two is working, I thought, allowing myself a grin from behind my menu.

I reached for my water, knowing that the plan was starting to work. As I took a gulp of water, our waiter - Iggy's cousin - came up.

"Hello everyone! I'm Danny, and I'll be your waiter today. What can I get you to drink?" asked a really bad, really fake Italian accent.

I nearly choked on my water - I knew that accent from when Iggy made me watch Ratatouille with him. Iggy had tried to sound Italian, just because of the name- even though it is French- and... well, it hadn't turned out so well.

But I couldn't believe this. Iggy was dressed in a Pizza Parlor uniform, wearing a black wig - complete with Elvis sideburns - and, to top it all off, he was wearing a curled-up mustache.

Oh. My. God.

"Oh. My. God," said a voice, and surprisingly, it was Lissa who echoed my sentiments. Except she said it way more girly, high-pitched, and ear-killing than I ever would. She also coupled her words with beating on my back and demanding, "Jeez, Fang, are you OK, babe?"

I waved her off, grabbing her hand and placing it on the table just to make her stop. "I am fine," I said, glaring at Iggy, who winked back.

After the initial shock, I cast a glance at Max, trying to figure out if she knew it was Iggy. Max wasn't looking all that surprised, or angry, or homicidal, so I figured that we were in the clear. For now; I could tell she knew something was up. Her head was cocked, her eyebrows scrunched up, and I had to admit - she looked adorable.

"Ah, I'll have a Coke," Sam said, breaking the silence.

"Same," Max said, studying Iggy before seeming to shrug inwardly and give up.

"Do you have bubbly water?" Lissa asked.

Iggy grinned wickedly, before answering in a horrible Russian accent, "Sure do, Devil's Child."

"Um..."

Before Lissa could comment on Iggy's thoughtful nickname, I said, "I'll have a Coke, too."

"Very good then. I'll be right back."

Oh, God. Now he sounds Jamaican.

I resisted the urge to do a face-palm as Iggy skipped - yes, skipped - off, fixing one of his sideburns, which had started sliding down his cheek.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I announced, standing up to pursue the dumbass with the fake facial hair. Probably couldn't grow any of his own, that's why he was doing this...

I found Iggy at the drink station, looking as though he belonged in a Harry Potter, in one of the Potion's rooms, mixing up some vile concoction.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded in his ear, startling him. "Max is gonna notice! This wasn't part of the plan!"

"Oh, calm down, cranky pants. I have it under control!" Iggy said, regaining his composure as he dumped some salt into the 'drink'.

"What happened to your cousin?" I snapped, watching him rummage around for things to add to his brew.

Iggy shrugged, turning to face me. "He was sick, so I took his place. I told you - I have it covered. No one will ever know it's really me. I'm an amazing actor. No?"

"Iggy. You're a horrible actor. Your accent has switched, like, five times!" I looked away from his potion-making, sure that if I stared another second, I'd return the contents of my stomach.

I tried not to think about the fact that he was sprinkling his fake facial hair into the drink.

"That's a minor detail," Iggy promised me. "Accents are barely noticeable. But I'll work on it, for you, Sir Talk-A-Lot. Now, what d'you think Sam's drink needs in it? I have Coke, salt, sugar, vinegar, hair, and spit. My spit, mind you."

"We want to get him away from Max, not kill him!"

"Yeah, I'm so hot I'm toxic, and any part of me will kill a girl - or Sam," Iggy agreed. "But maybe we need to kill him, you know, since he's probably set on getting into Max's pants. So we need something that'll burn him up pretty good."

"Hot sauce?" I offered jokingly.

But Iggy being Iggy, he said, "You freak! How did you get so smart?"

And then he snatched a bottle of hot sauce from the shelf above us, and squirted about half of it into the drink.

"God, Iggy, that's nasty. Why do I have a feeling that you were the kid that made potions in the bathtub?"

"Use to? Brother, please, I still do that. That's my me time, bru. And look, it paid off, didn't it?" He winked, pouring coffee creamer, steak sauce, and even a peppermint in there for good measure.

I stared at Iggy in disbelief, watching as the mint slowly disintegrated.

"What?" Iggy asked defensively. "He'll need something to help freshen his breath! I'm being considerate!"

I rolled my eyes at him, and, before starting to walk off, I said, "Why are we friends?"

"Duh," Iggy said, "I was the one with the sixty-four pack of crayons! I was famous with all the five-year-olds for that!"

I shook my head, walking off, but he said, "Wait!"

I turned around, looking at him flatly. "What?"

"Wanna see what's in your girlfriend's drink?" Before I could answer hell no, I'll leave it to my imagination, Iggy pointed to a glass of water on the bench with a flourish, before declaring, "Toilet water! And, look, I can make it bubbly!" He grinned, sticking a straw in it and blowing bubbles into the water.

He looked up at me, cackling, as I looked at him in disgust.

Only a true friend would help sabotage a date and blow bubbles into toilet water. Dedication, right there.

But I knew one thing - I was not kissing Lissa after she drinks that.

{I say chuck a page break in here. La la la la. Page break. This is breaking the page. La la la la. Sam, in Kenzi's picture, you have a big head. La la la la. La.}

"I thought you fell into the toilet or something, Fang!" Max joked, nudging me under the table. "I was gonna send Sam in there to pull you out!"

I nudged her back, shrugging. "Long line."

She let it go as Danny came back with our drinks. "Here y'all go," he said in a Southern accent, placing our drinks in front of us, making sure we each got the right one.

"Thanks," everyone said as they each got their successive drink.

"OK, are you guys ready to order?" he asked, his accent swapping to Australian now.

"I thought this was a Pizza place?" I heard Lissa whisper to Max. "Isn't that, like, Italian? Outback Steakhouse is the Australian one, right?"

I glanced at Max, hoping our cover wasn't blown, but she just rolled her eyes at Lissa, before saying to 'Danny', "I'll have a large extreme pizza with extra jalapenos?"

Iggy nodded, scribbling down the order. "Anything else?"

"Um, do you guys have, like, a salad?" Lissa asked, and Iggy nodded, writing that down, too

Iggy looked at me. "I'll have the same as Max."

"Small cheese pizza," Sam said.

"Sure," Iggy nodded, writing our orders down.

An idea popped into his head, and I decided to pry, in case we were able to use it to our advantage.

"Do you not like extreme pizza, Sam?" I asked nonchalantly.

He shrugged. "I do, but I don't like spicy and those jalapenos are a no."

I raised my eyebrows at Iggy, and he grinned at me, understanding. He walked off to place our order, looking evil.

I leant back in my chair, and just waiting for the plan to fall into place.

Lissa was the first of the two to take a sip of her drink, and I held back a snicker as she did.

"This is so not bubbly water," she said furiously. "Look at it! There's no fizz. That idiot obviously doesn't know what bubbly water is!" She huffed, continuing to drink the toilet water. I resisted the urge to gag as she did so - no kisses, for sure. Not tonight, not ever.

I tore my gaze from Lissa as soon as Sam reached for his drink. He and Max were having their own conversation as Sam took a big swig.

Max had just finished asking him something when his eyes went huge. He spat the contents of his mouth straight into her face, gagging and wiping his mouth with his napkin.

Max sat there, her eyes shut tight, her mouth hanging open in shock as she breathed deeply, Iggy's concoction dripping down her face and onto her shirt.

I bit the inside of my check as I watched; I was not expecting that. I snickered quietly to myself as I watched Sam stare at Max in shock as she just sat there, dripping. This was a better than I had ever hoped.

After what seemed like a lifetime of silence and staring, Max broke it, saying calmly, "If you didn't like the movie, you could've just said so. Spitting in my face was a little extreme, don't you think?"

"No, Max - I didn't - that's not why - it was my drink - I'd never," he stuttered, before seeming to give up.

"Sam, stop," Max told him, and, not waiting for a response, she said, "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom and dry off."

I had to use every ounce of my will power not to full-out laugh at Sam's expression as he sat there, silent.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything, Iggy came back with our pizzas. He quickly placed them in front of us and left before Sam had a chance to say anything about his drink.

Shortly after, Max returned, looking slightly drier, but completely grossed out.

As soon as Max sat down, Sam started apologizing repeatedly, but once again, Max waved him off.

"Whatever, Sam, forget about it. Now let's eat. I am starving," she said tersely, reaching across to grab some pizza. Sam nodded awkwardly, grabbing his own slice.

I took a bite of my own pizza, before taking a long, leisurely swig of my drink, in spite of Sam glaring at me.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, Sam started choking again. Lissa, being the oh-so-caring person she is, hopped out of her seat and started smacking his back, hard, trying to stop him as he hacked up his pizza.

Max stared at him, wide-eyed. "Jeez, Sam, you're having a big of trouble keeping things down tonight..."

Sam flushed, saying defensively, "The pizza was spicy."

Max raised an eyebrow at him. "Cheese pizza is spicy to you?"

His blush deepened as he answered her, "No, but it tastes like someone dumped a bottle of hot sauce in there."

Iggy, I thought, smirking. The boy is good.

Max gave him a funny look, before I decided to butt in and help ol' Sammy.

I reached over and grabbed a piece of his pizza, biting right into it. My tolerance of pizza is surprisingly - or, according to everyone I know, unnaturally - high.

"Tastes fine to me," I shrugged. "Just like cheese pizza." Max just shook her head, rolling her eyes.

Phase Two: success.

Or maybe I spoke too soon.

{And with that piece of forewarning, we end the chapter. No, not really. I'm just the weird beta who seems to be adding random page breaks into the story. To all of Kenzi's fans, I only deleted one line, and that was something like 'this should be on Disaster Date', whatever that it. Just thought you'd like to know. [;}

After we finished, I got the check and we headed out. Max and Sam were still not speaking. This mission was a success, and it was beginning to look like I wouldn't have to deal with the douche anymore.

I smirked as I walked Lissa to her car. I just barely dodged a kiss from her. She looked sort of hurt, and because I'm so nice, I cut in, lying, "Garlic breath. I wouldn't want you to suffer through that." I smiled at her, trying not to grimace, before stepping back and shutting her door for her.

She drove off, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes as I walked back to my car. Before I got in, though, Sam and Max caught my eye.

What the hell is he still doing here? Can't he take a freaking hint and just leave?

I snuck up just close enough to eavesdrop in on their conversation, while still safely concealed by a soccer mom SUV.

"Max, I'm sorry about tonight. It was a total fail, and it went nothing like I planned. This must've been one of the worst dates you've been on, and I understand if you don't want to go on another with me," Sam said, looking embarrassed.

"Yeah, it was," Max said flatly, shrugging. Sam's face fell as he looked down at his shoes.

Yes! A full-on smile broke out on my face.

"Oh," Sam mumbled.

But then she did something I had not expected.

Max smiled, putting a hand behind his neck and pulling him closer to her height. "But I've had worse," Max whispered, kissing him. It was a short kiss, but it was enough to hurt. Badly.

Sam was grinning like the idiot that he was as he walked her to her car. I watched as the both drove off into the sunset, now most likely a happy couple, and I couldn't help it - I kicked out at a deserted Coke can, making it skid along the ground. I watched it roll along, clanging all the way, and wondered when it was that my life turned into something straight out of a crappy romantic comedy movie.

Just then, Iggy ran out, looking completely... just fucked up, seeing as his mustache was up near his eyebrows, as if he had his unibrow, his wig was all off-kilter, almost on his shoulder, and one of his sideburns was sticking out of his mouth like a smoke. The other was just gone.

"What? What did I miss? Did she dump him? Did he cry? Was there a bitch fight? What happened?" Iggy demanded, looking around us at the deserted parking lot.

I just smacked my head against my car again in response, the thwack sound reverberating in the night air.

"So I take that that's a... no?"

I groaned in response.

"OK, then," Iggy said, before asking uncertainly, "Does that mean that Phase Three: Hardcore sex celebration party is a no-go, then?"

I glared at him, not dignifying his words with a response.

"Fine then," Iggy said huffily, and I could tell he was about to go off and mope that he was still a virgin or something. "I'll go put away the party poppers then."

Its official. The universe hates me.


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