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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on Jul 28, 2009 11:24:59 GMT -5
The news was out. Angela Wingrose was pregnant. The majority of her close friends knew, and their friends knew, but the media was only suspecting until a couple months ago. Then the interviews started, and the admission that it was more than a 'good dinner' in her tummy had the gossip columns and entertainment channels bursting with new information.
International model pregnant! Britain's diva engaged! Headlines sparked interest, and the inevitable due date, July 15th, loomed nearer. Then it passed. And Angela was still pregnant. Very pregnant, by the looks of it.
Her Maxi dresses couldn't hide that stomach any longer, though even when exhausted the young lady seemed to glow. After staying a couple nights at Charlotte Cooper's house, Angela hadn't wanted to burden the family with her presence any longer than needed. Plus, the knowledge that another very pretty girl Tristan liked, perhaps loved, was arriving shortly, also influenced her decision to go back 'home' to Cairo where her fiance waited for her.
Cairo was a ghost town, and Angela was a born and bred city girl. She loved Kennedy and his family very much, but try as they might, she never felt at home. There are just some things a one-mall town just can't compete with.
The soon-to-be mother was sitting just down the road from her new favourite restaurant on a bench. It was just a quick break before she waddled the rest of the way to the diner to visit Tristan or Charlotte, whoever was working today. She was craving a peanut butter machiatto, with grenadine and a cherry on top. Charlotte would understand, Tristan would joke about it... either reaction was something she was looking forward to.
Kennedy insisted she shouldn't travel, so she said she would go to Seattle and stay in a hotel, because she wanted to be somewhere she was comfortable, and Kennedy knew how much she didn't like Cairo, despite the fact that she said nothing. So he came with her, and as protective as he was, he also knew how independent she'd grown since she was pregnant. Having to face her father, and reconciling with Tristan Dell, as well as dealing with the press on a regular basis had made her stronger. Although she would always need a shoulder to lean on, she could go and visit her friends during the day by herself. Besides, if Tristan was working today, she didn't really want Kennedy to come waltzing into the diner with her.
Snapping out of her reverie, the pregnant blonde stood up very slowly and very carefully, refusing the hand someone offered her. She smiled her thanks, and slowly approached the diner, but her first step was something out of a movie. The stranger who had just offered his help witnessed Angela cry out as a sudden pang seized her abdomen, and she clutched her stomach through her dress. Her usually beautiful face contorted into an agonized expression and she gasped for the man to run to the diner and tell whoever was working to come help. She practically pushed him in that direction, and already his cell phone was out of his pocket.
Cell phone! That was a good idea! While shakily gripping the bench she'd just occupied with one hand, the other fished around in her purse for the tiny device. She dialed someone on her speed dial, sweat starting to bead on her forehead.
"Please pick up! Please pick up!" She grunted as the phone rang into her ear.
Someone answered.
"I think my water just broke. I'm just outside the Why Not Diner. Please come! Ooooooh!"
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Post by ken on Jul 28, 2009 13:09:28 GMT -5
So very much work had gone into the hideout. Lately it felt as though Kennedy hadn't been doing anything else. Constantly working, working, working. He couldn't remember the last time he'd just sat back and held Angela. His arms ached for such a feeling, even more so with the recent rumors. Yes, he was aware of bits and pieces of information, but he dismissed it as he always did. Angela was perfect, and his. No reason to think otherwise.
He'd just been finishing up another difficult task, dealing with Morgan insisting that she could do it better, when his phone rang. It didn't take him long to recognize Angela's number, and her frantic voice soon filled his ears.
"I'll be there," he said, sliding the phone into a pocket and taking off. Morgan threw car keys at him on the way out, and anyone else nearby just smiled as he ran. Soon he was behind the wheel and moving at top speed.
It was amazing how fast you could get a vehicle to move when you could theoretically get it to teleport. It only took moments for the vehicle to suddenly appear at the end of the corner. Kennedy murmured curses as he swerved around traffic, ignoring blaring horns and screeching tires. In no time at all, he was pulling in front of the diner, gasping for breath even as he shot out the front door.
"Angela?" he began looking frantically around. She had to be here... somewhere. Now he just needed to find her, which should be the easy part, what with the directions and all.
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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on Jul 29, 2009 21:48:48 GMT -5
Did someone hit the slow-motion button to everything surrounding her? Angela felt like she was watching everyone crawl by her at a snail's pace. That man was running to the diner awefully slow! The screech of tires down the road made her look up, and the moment she saw her fiance hop out of that car her world sped up to normal speed.
"Kennedy!" She cried, waving one arm frantically, the other one in a death grip on the bench. She took in one long deep breath, but had to let it out in short bursts. Oh this was not good. Healthy breathing for a healthy baby. Healthy breath-ing-for-a-health-y-bab-y...
"Ooooh it hurts so much!" Her blonde hair darkened with sweat around her face, framing her pinched features. She reached out toward the young man, groping for support. Where was the nearest hospital from here? Oh it had to be miles! What about veterinary clinic? Surely those doctors had done this sort of this before--!
"Oooh I hate you I hate you I hate you!" She started chanting, to no one in particular, and everyone specifically. She hated Kennedy for knocking her up, the baby for causing her this pain, and that guy for not running faster. Really, all men should work out just in case they got caught up in a predicament like this! Rational thought escaped her, and suddenly the whole world was to blame for her condition. "I hate you I hate you I hate you!"
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Post by Tristan Marcus Dell on Jul 30, 2009 0:12:58 GMT -5
Tristan had been bored out of his mind at the diner. He knew that it was supposed to be partly his business as well, but he really hated it when his mother left him in charge. He didn’t cook, he didn’t make milkshakes, and he didn’t bring people their burgers, sandwiches, and coffee. He was just supposed to supervise. Today, ‘supervising’ meant rhythmically bouncing a rubber band ball off the wall of an empty booth over and over and over again.
Just as Tristan was starting to annoy himself with the melodic thunk…thunk…thunk of the homemade bouncy ball hitting the wall, a man barreled into the diner asking who was in charge. Tristan answered that he was, and when the frantic man babbled something about a blonde girl, water breaking, and needing help, Tristan put two and two together. The rubber band ball rolled down the tips of his fingers and across the floor, rolling right under the table of two unsuspecting customers.
“Charlie, you’re in charge!” Tristan yelled to one of his mother’s cooks in the back, already just steps away from the diner’s door. “If you steal anything, you’re fired!” He asked the man which way the girl was, and once he got his answer he bolted out the door.
Tristan ran as fast as he could down the sidewalk until he reached the hunching Angela. He didn’t pay attention to who the guy with her was. He just assumed he was a passerby who had come to help her.
“Angela!” he breathed, halting to a stop. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to call and ambulance? Drive her to the hospital? Call for a cab? He never in a million years thought he would be thrown into that situation.
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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on Jul 30, 2009 9:48:11 GMT -5
"Tristan!" Angela exclaimed, her momentary surprise distracting her from the pain. She shouldn't really be surprised; she asked that man with the beer belly to go get him. Maybe she just assumed he'd never make it to the diner - it didn't really matter why she was surprised. Tristan was here, and she transfered her grip from the bench to his hand.
She'd always been a fragile girl, weak even, but that grip was like a lobster clamping onto the sea floor for its life. Her uneven, stuttering breaths took on a new pattern; hyperventilation.
"Omigodomigodomigodomigod!" She screwed her eyes shut and made an animalistic howl that broke off into a whimper. She had to pull herself together. Had to start being productive. Then reproductive. "Oooooh I hate you I hate you I hate you!"
But before she could explain why exactly she hated Tristan, she squeezed his hand and demanded, "Where's the nearest hospital? How far? In minutes! Ooooh! Kennedy!" Maybe she was mixed up, maybe she was calling for her fiance, or maybe she was greeting the young man who'd just joined them.
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Post by ken on Aug 31, 2009 3:49:57 GMT -5
This was all a little confusing and more than a little overwhelming, but Kennedy was certainly trying his damndest, given the circumstances. Namely the I hate you bits, coupled with the fact that for some reason, his fiance's ex was there too. Well, Kennedy had never exactly been opposed to Tristan being friends with Angela, and the other man was there, so fighting didn't sound like the best move at the moment.
He'd moved to brace against Angela, wishing he'd grabbed super strength or something before coming here. It certainly felt like she did. Not knowing what else to do, he looked up at Tristan.
"Hey, long time no see. I don't suppose you, ow, Angela, that hurts, anyway, I don't suppose you know where the closest hospital is? We kinda need to get there in a hurry, like she said. I guess I could fly there, but that's gotta be... awkward, to say the least," Kennedy looked from his fiance to the ex again. Tristan was helping. Resist any and all urges to get physical and remember that, at the least, Mr. Cavan. Still, it was very tempting to just ball up and...
No, pregnant fiance clinging. Deal with that first.
"Uh, sooner would be good..."
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Post by Tristan Marcus Dell on Sept 3, 2009 23:13:55 GMT -5
Even though he knew that Angela was probably in the worst pain she had ever been in and that her mind and emotions and adrenaline were probably moving at a ridiculous pace, Tristan still couldn’t help but feel offended when she called him Kennedy. That was most definitely not his name, but the name of her fiancé who was no where in sight. At least that’s what Tristan thought until he realized that the passerby who had stopped to help Angela was much more than that.
In his nineteen years of life, Tristan had found himself in countless awkward situations. There was the time he tripped over Eve in the library before they were even friends, which left him apologizing a million times. Then there was the first night he had ever met Angela, in which he had been locked out of his room wearing nothing but school-colored boxer shorts. Of all the times where Tristan wished he could be anywhere but where he was in those awkward moments, this one topped the cake.
It was just so weird. Here he was with the first girl that he ever loved – the girl who crushed him, and the guy she cheated on him with who now happened to be her fiancé, while she was going into labor. Obviously Tristan had never been a fan of Kennedy Cavan, but the past was the past and there were more important things to deal with.
Like the child Angela was going to have on the sidewalk if someone didn’t do something soon. Tristan, who was fairly positive that this sort of stuff only happened in movies, looked at Angela doubling over in pain and instantly wished that he could so something to help her.
“I’ll, uh… I’ll go get the car,” he told them both before taking off in the direction he had come from, disappearing into the diner.
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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on Sept 4, 2009 16:48:10 GMT -5
Angela's brain wasn't working properly, which was excusable at a time like this.
"NO FLYING!" She screeched through her teeth. She wasn't going to chance falling, because no one could fly in this condition. She wouldn't rely on Kennedy to fly her there either, because the boy would never forgive himself if he dropped her. It was just way too dangerous.
Then Tristan disappeared, and she spun around to watch him run off. Her brow furrowed, and she was nibbling her lip in classic Angela style. Someone on the street seemed to recognize her, and suddenly a camera was out. And Angela turned into a madwoman.
"GET THAT CAMERA OUT OF MY FACE!" All she could think of was how terrible she looked, and how she would cry for hours once the photos were published.
All thoughts of Tristan and flying went right out the window, and Angela let go of Kennedy's hand and started attacking the amateur photographer, manicure effectively turning into claws. The camera fell onto the sidewalk and smashed, and Angela stomped on it, before turning and slapping the poor soul who thought they'd cash in on her moment of panic.
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Post by ken on Sept 14, 2009 23:40:25 GMT -5
Still awkward. Of course, it was going to be, that's how these things worked. Kennedy wasn't even entirely certain why they were doing this here, but he didn't question the women in his life. Not lately, at any rate.
No, instead, he just stood as Angela had a hormonal attack, though his eyes followed Tristan. That car had better fly there. Seriously, if they didn't start moving soon...
the populace would suffer the wrath of Angela?
"Hey! Hey! Hey! Let's not attack people on the street," offered Kennedy, coming over to gently move his fiance out of striking range for the sap. Kennedy still nudged the camera parts further apart, making certain that nothing could possibly be salvaged from it. Honestly, what would drive someone to do something like that on a day like this?
"I'd run, if I were you," offered Kennedy. He just smiled at the photographer, who suddenly had somewhere else they had to be. They'd still have their scratches, if they were that desperate for something to remember the encounter by.
"Angela, hun, why don't we go wait for Tristan to show up with the car? No flying, I promise."
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Post by Tristan Marcus Dell on Sept 16, 2009 23:19:16 GMT -5
It couldn’t have been more than two minutes later, though it probably felt like an eternity to Angela, that Tristan rounded the corner in the Chevelle. He’d told Charlie not to take any more diners and to close up once the last customer was finished. Normally his mother would kill him for leaving the Why Not Diner in the hands of someone else, but he had a feeling that she’d make an exception this time.
Tristan pulled up to the sidewalk right next to Angela and Kennedy, not caring that he was completely blocking a whole lane of traffic. He threw open the driver’s side door and ran around to the other side of the car. The driver of the car that was forced to stop behind him honked his horn of his Camry, yelling out his window to either drive or get out of the damn road. Tristan ignored his complaining as he opened the passenger side door and moved the front seat up so either Angela or Kennedy could get into the back.
The Camry driver honked again, but Tristan didn’t ignore him this time.
“Would you shut up? My friend is having a baby!” he yelled to the impatient man, and it dawned on him just how strange it was to say that. Not that Angela was having a baby, though that was so weird as well, but that his friend was having a baby. It wasn’t until very recently that Tristan thought he’d ever be able to call Angela his friend, but apparently time and maturity changed a lot of things.
“Hey, come on,” he called to Angela and Kennedy, waving them over to the passenger side of the car. Even in the unexpected, hectic moment, Tristan had to stop himself from telling Angela not to scratch his car, his baby, with her purse when she got inside.
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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on Sept 17, 2009 6:39:02 GMT -5
She wanted to reach out and slap Kennedy for trying to defend the photographer and sooth her, but she got a little satisfaction out of seeing him bully the guy down the street, and further damage the camera smashed on the ground. And when he agreed that they weren't going to fly there, Angela took his hand and let him lead her to the side of the road where they could wait for Tristan.
And when that car came raging out of the parking lot, Tristan's car had never been so beautiful. Angela never really appreciated cars; makes and brands went right over her head. She knew how much Tristan loved this automobile, and she prayed he didn't crash it on the way over, for both their sakes.
The young man got out and opened the door, and Angela gestured for Kennedy to get into the back seat. No way was she climbing over that; Tristan would have to clean up baby goo from his seats if she tried. She was going to sit in the passenger seat, tilt it all the way back, and try to take even breaths.
The car honking behind Tristan's was so annoying she was about to scream at it. But then to her shock, Tristan was yelling. Something akin to a smug smile crossed over her lips, despite all the chaos and pain and urgency. Tristan never raised his voice for anyone. Nor did he ever say 'shut up' with so much feeling. She did pick up on how he called her a 'friend', and wondered why, in this whole mess, it still didn't sound natural, even if 'friends' were exactly what they were.
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