Ella

I stand still and look up at Michael. He looks down at me, sending me a look that says, ‘What do you want to do?'

I give him a responsive look. ‘Your call.' He sighs, visibly thinking.

"Are you okay, Michael?" Debbie asks with concern. Michael nods, un-knitting his eyebrows. I nudge him encouragingly. He sighs, gesturing towards me.

"This is my daughter, Debbie" he says slowly, in a very cautious tone. Debbie's eyes widen, giving me a once over before staring at Michael with shock, and a very small glint of pain. I'm pretty sure Michael didn't notice.

"Prove it" she says suddenly. I narrow my eyes at the suggestion, shifting my weight to my right foot. How do I do this? What unique ability does Michael have, that most don't? Then the answer hit me.

"I can snap" I say suggestively. Debbie gives me a look of mockery.

"You can snap? Anyone can snap." I feel my blood boil. I turn to Michael to see a worried look of doubt on his face. My blood boils even hotter.

"It's not the snap it's self, it's the volume" I say with emphasis. They both send me bewildered looks. I sigh realizing my point won't get across. I back a good six or so meter away. I look up to see they're having a whisper battle.

"Hey" I yell, mentally giving myself a pat on the back for getting the perfect pitch. I walk, snapping my fingers. I see them both visibly jump at the noise. As I get closer I snap both fingers, causing them to cringe. Soon I'm directly in front of them snapping my fingers in their face.

"Stop it!" Michael yells. He brushes his palms on his trousers before continuing. "We get it; you have an abnormally loud snap. Your point?" he asks, looking rather annoyed. I disregard his emotion.

"Bad album era, Tatiana Thumbtzen, The Way You Make Me Feel short film. Bystanders during filming sated you have an abnormally loud snap" I state factually.

"But how do you even know that?" he asks, looking amazed and uncomfortable. I shrug, "I did my research."

"Okay, you're ‘related'. I'll talk to you soon Michael?" Debbie asks hurriedly. Michael nods and she walks away quickly. Michael sighs, sitting down on a nearby bench. I follow, pulling out my cell phone and the Disney store receipt. I add Julius' number and call him. After three rings, he answers.

"Hello" he answers, sounding in a rush.

"Hey it's Goth chick from earlier, I say smugly, accent thicker than normal.

          "Hey, I'm glad you called. I'm kind of in a hurry right now trying to call a cab, can I text you when I get one?" he asks, stress coating his voice.

          "Yeah sure, totally. Talk to you later" I say hanging up. I look up at Michael to see he's animatedly debating with someone via phone.

           "No. I said no, okay? We're not adding angels to the performance. There is too much going on already. No, she is not wearing a freaking unitard for Partition. Figure out a different costume. No extensions, the public likes her short hair. No, don't change anything. Beyoncé is flawless. No, this is not favoritism. Jay-Z can figure out his own shi--", I give him a warning look. He rolls his eyes. "Shenanigans himself. I don't even know why I try." I giggle as I receive a text.

          ‘Sry bout that, couldn't get a good cab'

          ‘It's fine. Wher r u goin'

          ‘my cuz's bday party. What r u doin'

          ‘Oh nothing, just wonderin' bout that date Julius'

          ‘Ugh who told u?'

          ‘The who doesn't matter Jules. So what's our date?'

          ‘Hm. Thers a carnival 2moro around noon ;)'

          ‘Sounds good. Pick me up?'

          ‘You got it; we can get fod on the way ther'

          ‘sounds great. Can't wait to go'

          ‘C ya l8er ;)'

          ‘byze ;)'

          "So...going...date...huh?" I hear Michael mumble. I send him a look of confusion.

          "So...going...a date...huh?" he mumbles again, looking directly at me.

          "I can't hear you" I say softly. He huffs in frustrations, his eyes as dark as coal.

          `"SO YOU'RE GOING ON A DATE TOMORROW...HUH?" he booms. At least fifty people turn our way, and I flush a deep red. Now the mall has to be crowded?

Michaels gives everyone a menacing look. If looks could kill...

"What the fuck y'all looking at?' he yells, causing everyone to scurry and mind there on business.

"Someone's on their man period" I mutter, so only he can hear. He glares at me, so I smile. "Yes, I do have a date tomorrow, thank you."

He grimaces. "You haven't been here a week and you already have a date?" he asks, truly miffed. I shrug.

"My strange ways and creep-like manner lure people" I say casually.

"Does he even know your name?" he asks with concern.

"Nope! And I like it that way. Makes him want more, you know?"

"No, I don't know" Michael says irritably. I rub his thigh, making him squirm.

"Hey, calm it" I say before giving him a good slap on his knee and walking to an exit. It was five o' clock, and there isn't anything I can't buy online.

"Ella!"

"What, Paris? I'm changing!"

"Put on a robe and come here!" I sigh. It's already Saturday, the day for my date. I shuffle in a bright red robe down the stairs through the dining room into the kitchen. I sit in the dumbwaiter, press the floor button and drop. I hop out, stepping into the library, and find the science fiction and fantasy section and pull The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, the old copy. The entire section flips and I step into the human-sized empty shelf. It flips once again revealing a manga library, lit by blue lighting, unlike the sunlit library. I walk towards a wooden door, opening it to find wooden stairs; I climb up then and open a white-painted wooden door. I open to find Paris, lying on her bed, scrolling on her cell phone. She looks up with a smile full of trickery.

"Took ya long enough."

"Hey, I was in a robe, a silk robe" I protest. She rolls her eyes before grabbing my hand and pulling me towards her closet. I feel my pulse speed up.

"What are you--?"

"Calm down, I'm just getting out one of my dresses I wear to family day for your carnival date. I know you don't own a sundress" she says confidently. I open my mouth to say something, but close it when I realize it's the truth.

"That's what I thought. Here's my light blue one, it shows off no cleavage, it compliments my eyes, so it should compliment yours. Here's a pair of lace, crème Toms too. Come on, change so I can do your make up" she says, looking at me expectedly. I raise an eyebrow and she returns the gesture.

"We're both girls, I'm not a lesbian, and we're related. Change right here, Ella" she says in a matter-of-factly. I sigh, taking off the robe and throwing on the dress. Paris smirks.

"What" I ask. She shrugs.

"Nice boobs" she says nonchalantly, before handing me the shoes. I tilt my head slightly.

"Thank you? I'm glad you like them?" She laughs at how flustered I am before pulling me into the bathroom for makeup.

She does my usual makeup job of eyeliner and plum lipstick, since I put on everything else earlier. She did the cool French braided, donut bun with my hair.

"You look so, adorable! Oh, I love it, love it, love it!" she screeches, hugging me. I laugh.

"You do realize that I, being seventeen, am two years older than you?" I ask.

"I know, I just don't care. Ooh, it's eleven fifty-nine! Prince Charming will be here any minute. Oh, I almost forgot, I pre-packed your purse" she says, handing me a crème-colored satchel.

"Thanks. By the way, he's more of a Roman emperor to my Cleopatra" I state, walking down the stairs.

"As double-meaning as that sounded, I'm pretty sure Cleopatra was Egyptian" Paris says walking beside me.

"Cleopatra was actually Greek, so I fit the part fine" I retort, earning an eye-roll.

"Whatever, smart-ass." The door bell rings, signaling that a visitor has been let inside the gates. Seconds later I spot Michelé opening the door and accompanying, Julius.

"Hey Jules" I say, walking into the hallway. He's dressed in plaid shorts, the cool kind not ugly ones. He wore white converse and a diagonally blue and green striped, gray shirt. He's smiling.

"Hey. Ready to go?" he asks, offering his hand. I take it and nod, being lead out to one of Santa Barbara's special black cars, like the ones in London.

"Cool" I say as we walking closer. I swing open the door for him.

"Hey, that's my job" he whines playfully. I smirk.

"Just trying to be a lady" I say simply. I hear him mutter, "Just trying to be a feminist". He earns an elbow to the rib before the driver speeds off.