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Tonya chuckled as she watched Squealer, aka ten-year-old Angie, squealing with delight when MJ, aka twelve-year-old Max, Jr. who was already taller than Tonya, touched the feather on Ashure’s hat. The electricity contained within the feather made the boy’s hair stand up. That was not easy with MJ’s tight curls.
“You look like the Frankenstein dude from Hotel Transylvania,” Tonya remarked.
“Jonathan. He is so dreamy,” Angie said with a wistful sigh, a flutter of her eyelashes, and a tuck of her hands under her chin.
“He’s a dork, just like you,” MJ retorted before touching the feather again.
Angie lowered her hands to the table and stuck her tongue out at her brother. “So says the boy who keeps getting shocked,” she sarcastically responded with an emphasizing bob of her head on each
