Switched

Ovo je fanfikcija koju nisam ja napisala.

Credits:
- This story was written by the user "Lucinda" on Archuletafans.com
- This is the link to her profile on Archuletafans.com : http://www.archuletafans.com/index.php?showuser=7080
- She willingly gave Mira (Scarly) full permission to take this story and post it on the Kelly Clarkson fansite, under the solid agreement that she will be given full credit for the entire story including each and every fictional character.
- This story MAY NOT be taken and/or reposted on ANY OTHER website or under any other conditions, or be passed off under any other author/editor's name, or sold for the financial benefit of ANYONE other than the original writer, "Lucinda."
- Any reader with specific feedback, including all suggestions and/or critiques to the story can contact "Lucinda" through the contact information posted on her profile at Archuletafans.com (url above)
- Thank you for reading, and i hope that the benefits received from this story are purely enjoyment and entertainment


Nekoliko stvari koje trebate znati pre citanja:

David Archuleta ( 18 ) {u prici samo David ili Archie} - takmicar na Americkom Idolu, osvojio je drugo mesto, voli se druziti sa ljudima iako ponekada zna biti stidljiv, nije se poljubio, ima nezan i veseo glas, ponasa se razigrano, peva pop muziku
David Cook (25) {u prici samo Cook} - takodje takmicar Americkog Idola, osvojio je prvo mesto, on i Archie su najbolji drugovi, ima pomalo hrapav i zreo glas, ponasa se u skladu sa svojim godinama, roker
Michael Johns (35) - veljiki saljivdzija i zabavljac, takodje je ucestvovao na Americkom Idolu, prijatelj je sa Archiem i Cookom

Fanfikcija ce biti na engleskom. Meni se jako svidela, pa sam pitala Lucindu da mi dopusti da ju ovde prepisem, i ona mi je dozvolila. Mislim da bi, i ako ne znate ko su Davidi ( ) trebali procitati fikciju jer je zaista zanimljiva.
All copyrights and credits go to Lucinda^^^.
Banner has been made by Dakota on Archuletafans.com.

Prvo kratak uvod i napomene.



Just a Note: There are parts of this story that use ideas/concepts from movies such as the old/new Freaky Friday. So if you like to give constructive criticsm (which is fine by me ) you don't have to mention the similarities that take away from originality haha. I'm well aware of them! There are also some unrealistic ideas/concepts used, such as David Archuleta having to return to a real school lol. I am well aware that this most likely could not happen, but it's just part of the story lol My main goal with this story is to have some fun yes.gif

Summary: The Idol Tour is over and David Cook and David Archuleta are still like brothers. Sharing an apartment in LA, the David's are as close as ever... but do they really know about everything that's going on in each other's lives? Absolutely not.

David Archuleta's new life as a celebrity is filled with stressful situations and unbelievable amounts of pressure. Among working on the album, staying in touch with family members and friends, keeping up with school work and trying his very best to keep his current status as a straight-A student throughout his Senior year, little David hardly has any time to relax and just be a regular kid, and he has almost no time to reflect on himself. To see if he likes the person he's becoming. And all the while... he feels one-step behind the man who's not only his best friend, but his ultimate role-model.

David Archuleta looks up to David Cook with the utmost respect... and desire to be just like him. Cook's life seems so simple, and Archie has to stand by and watch as he accepts his superstardom with such poise and flawlessness. To little David, big David makes the whole thing seem so... effortless. And one day... without thinking... David Archuleta makes a wish that will change his life, and the life of his surrogate big brother, possibly... forever.

From little Archie dating a girl nine years older than him and discovering some pretty scary things about women that age... and big Cook going back to high school and finding that he's not quite as smart as he thinks he is... Switched is a comedy about learning not to judge a book by it's cover, learning to accept who you are, and coming to see that in the end, the brotherly love that two friends share is enough to conquer anything. It's enough to overcome even some of the biggest mistakes they make. It's the most powerful thing in the world.

Category: Archucook, Comedy

Characters: David Archuleta, David Cook, and many more (including Idol contestants!)

Rating: PG (some chapters might be PG-13, but I'll put warnings on those ones!)

I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing...

David Cook let out a huge yawn, stretching his arms as he was awakened that Saturday morning at 6:00 am, his usual routine. He turned his head and glanced over at the Polaroid alarm clock radio on the black "Mod" nightstand in his bedroom. As it happened, the whole room was themed modern. Cook liked the whole "Mod" look. Somehow even among the shirts, pants, underwear, and other random clutter scattered around on the gray carpeted floor, the smooth-surfaced black furniture made Cook's "humble abode," as he liked to call it, look just the slightest bit neat and clean. The twenty-five-year-old leaned back in his bed and grasped the silver bars on the headboard behind him with both hands, enjoying the feel of all the tension that had built up in his arm and shoulder muscles over night being released. He took a few deep breaths. After about a minute of holding this position, the rocker realized that his alarm clock was still running.

"And good morning to you too, Steve," he smirked, reaching a hand over to the clock and switching off Aerosmith. He brought his arm back to the bed, then immediately let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes at himself. Why didn't I save that joke for when someone was actually with me? he regretted. David Cook loved nothing more than to make others laugh with his jokes. He was considerably pleased when one person in particular appreciated a good old, "Cook Original" knee-slapper. Maybe I can re-joke? he considered. Nah, it's already lost all it's cache.

Cook brought both of his hands down from the stainless-steel metal headboard bars and rubbed them together, trying to create friction to warm them up. The metal had made them cool. Once he was satisfied with their temperature, he sat up, tossed the gray and white graphic quilt to the foot of the bed, and swung his bare feet over the edge. After taking one more stretch, he stood up. "Whoa... whoa!" He had gotten up too quickly, and the entire room appeared to be spinning as he almost lost his balance. Cook placed his eyes on a fixed point, right on the doorknob of the bedroom door, while also spreading his arms out on either side of him to keep himself steady. Focus on the doorknob... focus on the doorknob...

As he stared at the fixed point in the center of his vision, the dresser, the picture frames, the standing lamps, and the rest of the room finally came into focus. Cook brought his arms back down to his sides and sighed. "Whew!" He made his way over to the door of his own bathroom. Cook had always thought it was best for him to have his own bathroom, because even though he didn't mind it, he hating making others tolerate his messiness. And the other man in the house, the younger one, was anything but messy. Cook chuckled to himself as he recalled many instances where his best friend's obsessive behavior over neatness had caused him a little bit of... inner aggravation. Instances such as fixing forks, knives and spoons when they weren't exactly in place at the table, spending two minutes or more fixing his bed in the morning, even when that bed happened to be nothing more than a small bunk on a tour bus... Yep, Cook inwardly chuckled again, It's definitely a good thing we don't share a bathroom.

Cook switched on the light in the bathroom connected to his room and made his way to the black marble counter where the stainless-steel sink was. He picked up the blue electric toothbrush beside it and ran it under the water, then pushed the last bit of toothpaste out of the Crest tube onto his brush before tossing the empty tube, making a mental note to get some more, running his toothbrush under the water again, and finally switching it on and sticking it in his mouth. As he brushed, he glanced indifferently at the stubble-covered, messy-haired, scruffy-looking man in the gray T-shirt and black boxers staring at him from the other side of the mirror. Don't get the wrong impression; David Cook was pleased with the man he was. But sometimes, he wished that others could see past the easy-going, laid-back, super friendly guy on the outside. Again, don't get the wrong impression; this wasn't an act, it was all real, all genuine, but there was more than that on the inside. Sometimes when he appeared calm, he was really breaking down from the nerves inside. But he had to keep his image... had to stay the man that America knew. Keeping things bottled up due to an effort to maintain an image was sometimes unbelievably hard... and often times Cook wondered... Wouldn't it be nice to step into someone else's shoes for once?

He spit out the concoction of toothpaste and saliva he had mixed in his mouth, rinsed, then flossed and swished with Listerine. The rocker flashed a pearly-white smile at himself in the bathroom mirror. He prided himself on having great habits of dental hygiene, something he credited a certain young friend of his with encouraging him to do.

Cook switched off the bathroom light before going back into his bedroom and then making his way out the door and into the hallway. The door opposite his was creaked open slightly, as it had been every morning when he woke up for the past couple of months. But glancing in, Cook had a narrow view of the JVC alarm clock on the deep brown-red mahogany nightstand in the next bedroom. There was a little red light blinking right beneath the button labeled "Snooze." Before the man knew it, the corners of his mouth had pulled themselves into a smile. He shook his head while thinking to himself, Typical.

Cook placed a hand against the wooden door and quietly pushed it open, then stepped cautiously onto the burbur carpet which contained specks of off-white, deep wine-red, and black. Cook became aware that there was not a single item of clothing on the floor. He looked up at the shiny wooden dresser and smiled again as he assumed that all the clothes inside were folded and put away precisely.

David glanced around the rest of the room. Next to the dresser there sat a rectangular wicker basket that contained quite a few books and magazines, only a couple of which weren't actually in the basket, but strewn on the carpet directly beside it. One of these happened to be laying open with bookmark in it, and Cook immediately recognized it to be Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, a popular read for high school seniors. This book was one that Cook had bought for his friend as a gift.

On top of the dresser there was a black lamp, next to which rested an icon of Jesus Christ, a Bible which contained both the Old and the New Testaments, and the Book of Mormon. Cook had always respected the way his friend held religion in such high esteem, even to the point where he'd created something of a mini shrine right in his own bedroom. Now opposite this dresser there was a different kind of shrine, devoted to something Cook's friend held in nearly as much esteem as he did his faith.

On top of the wooden desk on the other side of the room sat the same black lamp, at the base of which over here lay an iphone, a set headphones, an electric tuner, and a pocket-sized dictionary of every piano chord that ever existed. In the center of this desk was an Inspiron 1525 Windows Vista laptop with a red top, which was hybernating at the moment. Papers that had empty treble and bass clefs on them were half filled with notes that were handwritten with messy yet totally identifiable printing, and were laying in uneven piles next to the laptop. A bookshelf next to and actually connected to the desk contained, In alphabetical order, Cook reminded himself, every record, album, tape, CD and music DVD that the kid had owned since his very first one, Avril Lavigne, which he got many years ago. All around the floor next to the desk were stacks and stacks of binders and folders, each labeled with the title and artist of a different song. It's amazing how he can devote so much to each individual song, Cook thought as he marveled at the thickness of and the amount papers inside each one.

But perhaps the most interesting, and in Cook's opinion, the most amusing thing about this passionate display was the wall behind the desk. That one area of the creamy, off-white wall was covered... literally, covered... with pictures and posters and articles of and about the many stars throughout history who have left their marks on the musical world. You name the artist, their poster is up there: Michael Jackson, the Beatles, Kirk Franklin, and so many more. He even had some that were personally signed, like Mariah Carey, Neil Diamond, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Dolly Parton, Bryan Adams and Seal... and of course, the biggest picture which just happened to be front and center was the object of this teenager's ultimate obsession, Sara Bareilles. Cook laughed to himself yet again, remembering his friend once say he didn't believe in celebrity crushes... and then only a few months later do a radio interview where he positively gushed over the pop star. What a character.

Cook's eyes, after wandering all the way around the room, were finally settling on the reason he had come in. The wooden blinds were shut, so there were thin lines of sunlight streaking the bed, the deep wine-red blankets, and the young man nestled beneath them. David Cook made his way over to the bed, sitting down on it, and looking intently at his very best friend.

David Archuleta, or "Archie," as Cook liked to call him, was only seventeen years old. And yet, Cook could easily call him his best friend. Cook carefully watched the young man at that moment. Little David was laying on his belly with his head turned sideways, facing the older David but nestled deep into one of his white pillows. His messy black hair still had some spike in it from the last time it was styled (which happend to be a few hours ago, Friday night) but it was mostly a bed head and pointed randomly in all directions. His face was expressionless, his mouth in a perfect line and his eyes closed, dark and long eyelashes lining them delicately.

His arms were almost totally covered by the quilt that was pulled all the way up to the middle of his cheek, but Cook could just see David's small fingertips resting right up next to his lips. Cook watched as David's back rose and fell slowly and softly with his breathing. He was snoring ever so slightly, as he always did. His breathing patterns were somewhat altered due to the vocal cord paralysis he had. Cook remembered one particular time David went to the doctor. It was during the American Idol competition, and the otolaryngologist had said that one entire cord was officially fully paralyzed. Cook remembered his father saying, "The doctor told us, 'Someone up there wants him to sing, because medically, he shouldn't be able to sing.'" As if he didn't already have enough respect for the amazing young man, Cook gained even more respect for him after that. All those days of resting his voice, going back to the doctor again and again for treatment, and all the while... keeping up with the competition. Not only keeping up, but remaining a frontrunner until the very end.

David Archuleta was the most gifted, talented, hard-working, yet unbelievably humble and sincerely kind person that David Cook had ever met, hands down. In Cook's mind, David Archuleta could perform circles and run rings around people his own age. But not only people his own age. David Archuleta could even do it to adults... Nobody could compare with David.

As Cook watched him, he couldn't help but feel a desire to always be there for him, and to always protect him. Cook tried not to act this way around him though, as he didn't want David to feel he was being treated like a child, but the truth was... it still seemed, in a sense, that he was a child. Cook had such strong feelings for him. Specifically one feeling that he liked to call "Big Brother Syndrome." Even while watching him sleeping peacefully, Cook could see this... Vulnerability? No... that's too strong of a word. I guess I'd call him... delicate... fragile...

Cook rested a hand gently on David's back, and rubbed back and forth a little. "Archie? Archie... c'mon, buddy, wake up..."

Cook continued to rub the small back, until David began to stir. "Mmph..." he mumbled, snuggling deeper into his pillows. Getting up in the morning was never a great skill of his. He was like a dormouse: snuggles and cuddles too easily, and once in a particularly comfortable position... Will NEVER get up, Cook thought. "Archie," he said yet again, this time shaking the teen's shoulder, "Wake up."

After some more shaking, David's eyes finally fluttered open. Cook smiled down at him, "There you are."

David looked up at Cook with droopy, sleepy eyes, but gave him a warm smile nonetheless and yawned, "Hey Cook," he stretched beneath the blankets, then flipped over onto his back so he could see his friend more clearly. "Hey," Cook said, "How'd you sleep?"

Cook was curious about this due to the fact that the two of them didn't get home till midnight the previous night. They were both attending the 19 Recordings/Jive Records big benefit party and by the time it was over, both guys were equally ready to climb into bed. "I fell asleep in like, a second, but I still feel tired," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"Is that so?" smirked Cook, "Well, at least I'm up and ready to start the day... which is going to be a long and busy one, by the way."

David looked at Cook in mock disappointment (well, the disappointment was all real but he was exaggerating it all a little) and whined, "But it's Saturday..." he took a deep breath. "Isn't it sad how the weekends don't really exist anymore?"

Cook laughed. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But either way, you've gotta get up soon buddy."

"What time is it?" David asked quietly.

"Six," Cook replied.

"Uuuggghhh..." David gave a long moan and proceeded to flip back onto his belly and snuggle into his warm blankets, but Cook had other plans.

"Oh, no you don't!" he laughed. He then pulled the blankets off of his young friend. "Hey!" David let out a yelp and grabbed hold of them just as Cook grabbed the other side, and soon the two were battling it out in a tug-o-war. Cook was standing at the foot of the bed and pulling with all his might on the red comforter while the younger David was forced to sit up on his pillow and lean back into the wooden headboard, pushing his feet into the mattress in front of him for support. You'd think that Cook would be the obvious winner, but don't be deceived by his small appearance. David Archuleta was a lot stronger than he looked. So strong in fact, that the war wasn't really going anywhere... both men were tugging as hard as they could and the quilt was suspended between them. "So now what?" Cook laughed, "Are we just going to sit here and hold onto this blanket for the rest of our lives?"

Little David shrugged, "Well it's either that..." he gave a wicked smile, "Or you surrender..."

"Never!" growled Cook, giving a powerful pull on the blanket that caused David to yelp as he lurched forward. "I've - almost - got - you!"

David had an idea... as there only seemed to be one way to end this fight. He was still hanging on tight... waiting for Cook to take another harsh tug...

And there it was - Cook mustered up all his strength and gave another almighty tug... and just as he pulled David let go of the blanket, causing Cook's entire face to become enshrouded with surprise as he let out a yell of shock and felt weightless for less than a second, then fell backwards onto the floor. "WHOA!"

Archie couldn't help himself. He fell back onto the bed and broke into a fit of laughter. "Cook I got you so bad!" He laughed, still laying on his back on the sheet-covered mattress, holding his stomach as the laughter pains began to kick in. Cook, still in some shock, just couldn't help but be amused... and even a little impressed. But he wasn't giving in yet... no sir. He stood up shakily, gained his balance, and tried his hardest to get rid of the huge grin that was spreading across his face (but he didn't do a very good job of it). He went over to the side of the bed and looked down on Archie as he laughed his little heart out, his face lighting up and creased from the smiles. "Oh no you didn't," Cook said facetiously, "Oh, no you did not!" And he stooped down, grabbed the teen's sides...

"AH!" Archie screamed in shock, "Cook what are you doing?!"

"Oh, we're going to have some serious fun!" He laughed threateningly. He then picked Archie up by the waist, hoisted him up, carrying him over his shoulder... and grinning widely all the while.

"OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH! Cook put me down! Cook OH MY GOSH seriously put me down!"

Oh yeah, he's scared, Cook laughed in his mind. "Nah... I don't think I will..." still carrying his young friend over his shoulder, he pushed the bedroom door out of the way and began to make his way down the hall.

"Cook what the heck are you doing - oh my gosh seriously put me down! Where are we going?!"

"Oh you'll see," Cook laughed, giving David a teasing hit on the back, "You'll see!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Cook was walking down the hall with a playfully wicked grin on his stubble-covered face as he carried an utterly confused and somewhat frightened Archie over his shoulder. The younger David knew that Cook would never hurt him, but Cook had always been something of a prankster. David recalled Cook playing several little tricks on him throughout the Idol Tour, some of which were less than amusing in Archie's point of view. Like the time he put that huge spider in my bunk... Oh gosh I can't even think about it without shivering... And as if that wasn't enough, this wasn't the first time that Cook had picked Archie up and carried him. David suddenly remembered that the last time Cook carried him like this... He dropped me. Archie let out another gasp and pushed his hands against Cook's back to ensure maximum support.

"C-Cook! Seriously this is SO not funny where are we going?!" Archie felt Cook tighten his grip around his waist while he laughed, "You really want to know?"

David wasn't sure how to respond to this. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Uummm... why don't you tell me?" he retorted. He smiled to himself and giggled quietly, quite proud that he was able to think of a sassy comeback. Cook was always the one that thought of the good comebacks and Archie was usually left opening his mouth to say something back, but nothing would come out. So it was a rare occasion that the tables were turned, and Archie had to admit that he was liking it.

"Ouch," said Cook, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. Archie could just picture his facial expression: raising one eyebrow showing that he was impressed, one side of his mouth curling upward into a smirk. Archie had just spent so much time with the man he considered his big brother that just by listening to his voice, he knew what his face was doing. "Well, because I'm feeling merciful... I'll tell you," he said as he made his way out of the hall that led to the bedrooms and the small library and study, and into the main area of the apartment which contained the kitchen, the living room and the dining room all together.

"Well?" David asked impatiently, his voice shaking as he pressed his hands into Cook's back again when he felt himself becoming a slightly unstable. Cook answered, "We're going to the kitchen," with a laugh.

"What?!" David was now totally in the dark as to what Cook's plan was as they made there past the beige sectional couch and the matching single with the black pillows on them in the living room. They were the kind of couches that were velvety, so you could draw pictures by rubbing your fingers on them, and then erase the picture with one simple swipe of your hand over it. Something I should have grown out of a long time ago, thought David. But then again, there's no fun in growing up too soon... heck, look at Cook!

David smiled nervously as they passed the television in front of the couches and the shelves of various books and DVDs that sat on either side of it. Then they passed the glass dining room table with the bowl of fruit as the centerpiece and walked behind the kitchen counters which were black with dark red marble lines, and had a few random objects scattered around on them, and finally over to the stainless-steel, right-and-left-doored refrigerator. "Okay Cook, now I REALLY don't know what's going on..."

Cook chuckled mischieviously, "Oh, it's just a little something to help wake you up... that's all!" Gripping Archie with only one arm, Cook reached his other arm out and grabbed the handle to the freezer door and yanked it open, releasing steamy, ice-cold air that made little David whimper and shiver timidly. "C-C-Cook?" he asked hesitently, his voice shaking, "Cook w-w-why are you o-o-opening the freezer?"

"That, my young friend," Cook said, "Is what you're about to find out." Young David shivered again, but this time, it wasn't because of the cold air. He could here Cook rumaging around in the freezer... and it sounded like... he was going through the... Archie gulped. Icebox? "Cook..."

"Don't fall Archie! It won't be pleasant if your poor little body gets smacked down on the tile floor!" This last statement left Archie's eyes wide in fear as his body froze up like a banana daiquiri. And with that,David felt the bottom hem of his green Element T-shirt being lifted up...

"AAHH! COOK OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH WHAT IS THAT-?!" Archie had been sickly surprised as he felt the spine-chilling... literally, spine-chilling... sensation of a HUGE piece of ice from the freezer be put beneath his shirt by Cook and slide quickly down his bare back, causing him to squirm around crazily while he listened to Cook crack up, clearly enjoying the current situation.

"Had enough or should I give you another one?" laughed Cook, sliding another piece of ice down his back, but gripping him tightly so that all Archie's squirming and wriggling wouldn't send him crashing to the floor. But he couldn't do anything about his shouts, which were still coming.

"Oh my gosh Cook stop it! COOK PLEASE STOP!" he yelled as both the first and second pieces of ice made there way to the base of his neck and slipped out the collar of his shirt and fell to the floor. Archie couldn't even keep his hands on Cook's back anymore, as he was now either flailing them around, hitting Cook's back or yanking at the back of Cook's gray T-shirt to get him to stop... but all the while... he couldn't force away a small, anxious, spazzy smile. "Cook please don't do it again! Please!"

Archie could still here the older David laughing heartily at the moments of triumph he'd just had over the past minute, and could perfectly picture the wide grin on his face... "AH!" he suddenly screamed as he felt another piece of ice touch the small of his back, but not roll down. Cook was holding it there as if to threaten him. "You PROMISE you won't go back to bed?" Cook managed to ask between laughs.

"YES! YES COOK I PROMISE JUST PLEASE STOP WITH THE ICE!" Archie yelled desperately, literally begging him to stop. Then he felt the large piece of ice he was being threatened with be removed from his back, and heard a loud CLANG as Cook tossed it into the kitchen sink. "Alright, I think I've made my point," Cook chuckled.

Archie let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, yeah, the feeling's mutual, now let me down," he said impatiently, but without being able to mask his anxiousness. He felt Cook wrap one arm tightly around his waist and wrap the other around the backs of his knees, then lift him down from his shoulder. Archie was grateful for a second until Cook set his feet down on the floor and they landed in the freezing-cold puddle of melted ice cubes.

"WHOA!" he yelped, wrapping his arms around Cook's neck and actually lifting himself back into a holding position. "Oh sorry Archie!" Cook laughed, wrapping his arms around the teen to keep him from falling, "Oh gosh, sorry about that! Here," Cook, carrying Archie, backed away from the miniature Arctic Circle he had created in front of the the freezer and placed David on his feet about a yard away. As soon as he was safely on the ground, Archie stood in front of Cook and the two of them looked each other directly in the eyes... only Cook immediately burst into laughter again while Archie, with his hands on his hips, tried his best to stare the rocker down with an angry glare. "Now," he said through gritted teeth, "Was that REALLY NECESSARY?" he asked, trying harder than ever to keep a straight face. He didn't know why... but somehow... he wanted to laugh too.

Cook's face was creased with lines of laughter and he was positively doubled over, but he quieted down a little bit and managed to say, "Uh... do you really want me to answer that?" not even finishing the last word. His "that" had become lost in the laugh, and it sounded more like, "Do you really want me to answer THAAA... HAHAHA...!"

And this was too much for the younger singer to take. Before he knew it, the sides of his mouth were curving into a smile. As much as he tried to oppress it... it just kept on coming...

"Well, well, well... is that a smile I see?" teased Cook. Archie looked into his eyes, which were practically glowing with amusement and pride in his "ingenious" joke. And this was one of the things Archie loved most about Cook: he laughed so hard at his own jokes, and nothing even just slightly funny ceased to amuse him. The smile on young David's face got bigger and bigger as he looked into Cook's laughing face, causing a thousand and one memories to come flying back through his brain. Random moments where Cook's amazing sense of humor had shown through clearer than ever. Him telling me the pirate joke, him commenting on how much he loved my little "send-off speeches," doing crazy dances with Michael on tour, and then... helping me through my awkwardness. Making all the awkward moments I had less like things to be embarrassed about, and more like things to just grin and laugh about.

With possibly the biggest grin that Archie had ever made on his face, he said quietly to Cook, "You're sick Cook," letting out a laugh at the end.

The older David was still lost in the moment but he responded with a grin, "That's what they tell me!"

Archie, cheeks starting to hurt from the smile, rolled his eyes and playfully socked Cook on the arm, walking past him, off of the cold, sandstone-colored, ceramic kitchen tile and moving towards the hall, onto the hardwood floors. He called back, "You're such a jerk, you know that right?" with a laugh. David turned around to look at Cook one more time, only to see him taking bows and saying, "Thank you, thank you!" David laughed again and turned, starting to make his way down the hallway to his bedroom to get changed. When he was nearly at the door he heard a call from the kitchen. "Hey Archie! Waffles or pancakes?!"

"Whatever!" Archie called back, pushing his bedroom door open and stepping onto the carpet. He heard another yell from the kitchen. "That doesn't help, Arch!" Cook called with a laugh. David smiled, "Pancakes then, thanks!"

"Yep!" Before closing the bedroom door, David heard Cook slam the freezer door (he had forgotten to close it after the little ice incident), then he heard the clanging of pans on the stove as Cook began to prepare breakfast. This came as a surprise to most people, but David was a cook. No pun intended, thought Archie with a grin as he shut the door with a quiet click. He paused in his tracks. Aw, man! I should have saved that for Cook! I could say it again... but he always seems to be able to tell when I re-joke. Ack! It's already lost all it's cliche. Wait... is that the right word? He dismissed these thoughts when he realized that he was still shivering due to the fact that the back of his shirt was soaking wet. As he pulled it off, he made a mental note to ask the resident "Word Nerd" about his little "word crises" later.

He tossed the shirt into the wicker laundry basket by his bedroom door, and did the same with the rest of his clothes before going into his bathroom and jumping into the shower.

When he pushed the shower curtain aside to get out, he glanced at the glass-framed clock that sat ontop of the cupbaord above the toilet. 6:10 am: a new record. Archie gave himself a mental pat on the back when he realized he'd taken a two and a half minute shower. He reached over to the white switch next to the towel rack on the brown-beige wall and flipped it up, turning on the fans before grabbing a towel and wrapping it firmly around his waist. He moved across the white tile and onto the area rug in front of the white marble counter where the sink was, and faced the large, foggy mirror behind it. He grabbed one of the four colored washcloths he kept on the counter (taking the olive green one from a choice of dark red, dusty orange, gold-yellow, and the first) and pressed it against the mirror. He then made swipe after swipe down the mirror's surface as if erasing a chalkboard until all the fog was gone, and he could see himself staring back at him.

As he towel-dried his messy black hair, David Archuleta took a somewhat deeper look at the young man in the mirror. He liked himself, there was no question about it, but there were certain things he wished he could change. Like his awkwardness. This was something that everyone... his parents, his sister, and even the other idols and Cook had told him would go away as he got older. But as time passed, it didn't seem as if he was getting any less awkward. He still had that nervous laugh he couldn't control, still was a little spacey and tended to... tune things out... when lost in a daydream. Often times he looked at people like Cook and thought, How do they do it? How do people, like Cook, always seem so... cool? It's like he doesn't even try, it just, comes naturally. Maybe someday...

Before he could finish the thought the comb slipped from his fingers and fell to the very edge of the countertop, rebounding and falling to the floor with a light clunk. David's immediate reflex was to bend down and pick it up, which he started to do, but in mid-stand-back-up the towel around his waist was loosened and started to fall, causing him to yelp, drop the comb back to the floor and grab the towel with both hands. He caught his reflection in the mirror, an extremely anxious look on his face and holding the towel up for dear life, and it didn't take him long to feel extremely silly, seeing as he was in total solitude in his bathroom. He shook off the embarrassment and picked up the comb, placing it on the counter and fixing the towel. Now where was I... oh yeah, Cook and how cool he is. And maybe someday... he was about to finish the thought. But then he remembered what just happened a few seconds ago. No, he decided, Not going to happen.

After drying off, brushing his teeth, putting on deodorant and gelling up and spiking his hair to perfection, David turned off the bathroom fans and lights and stepped into his room. Opening one of his dresser drawers, he pulled out a white undershirt and boxers, a pair of jeans and a gray Buckle polo, and pulled them on. After pulling the polo over his head he fixed the collar so that a little bit of the white undershirt was visible, and he adjusted the bottom hem, pulling it down a little (a habit of his). He then reached back onto the top of his dresser and brought down the white wristband he always wore, pulling onto his wrist. After this he sat down on the floor and opened up the bottom drawer, pulling out and pulling on a pair of white ankle socks. He reached for his shoes, but decided he'd put them on later and retreated.

He took one last look at himself in the mirror on his wall, then walked to the door, opened it, and made his way down the hall and back into the kitchen. Cook was just placing two plates of pancakes in front of two stools on the counter when he looked up and said, "Perfect timing." He then placed a fork and knife by each plate as Archie made his way over to the refrigerator, noticing with a smile once he got there that the Arctic Circle was gone. He pulled open the refrigerator and glanced inside. "Do you want something?" he asked.

"Oh, no thanks, I'm good," he said, gesturing at the running coffee machine. So David pulled out the orange juice and got a tall glass from the shiny wooden cupboard, then poured himself half the glass. He then put the carton back into the refrigerator and closed the door, sitting down with his glass as Cook flipped on the small TV on the counter. He already put toppings on his pancakes and was now cutting them into pieces, taking bites randomly thorughout the process. "Hey, McCain took another lead the other day. Did you hear about that?" he asked the younger David. David had just finished buttering the sweet-smelling pancakes and was pouring maple syrup over them when he answered, "Yeah, I did. This is gonna be an interesting race," he laughed.

Cook chuckled in agreement, getting up as the coffee machine made a light ding!. David cut his pancakes into smaller pieces, pushed his fork into two small pieces and put them into his mouth, chewing quietly while watching another montage of the presidential election events. Suddenly, a thought returned to his mind. "Oh, Cook! I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?" Cook asked, watching him questioningly.

"Okay, am I right in thinking that when something is really like, I don't know... special and unique and no one else would think of it... would you call it "cliche?"

Cook laughed. "No Archie, "cliche" is a trite, stereotyped expression; a sentence or phrase, usually expressing a popular or common thought or idea, that has lost originality-"

David smirked and interrupted, "I don't need the whole history and origion of the word, Webster, I just need a 'yes' or 'no'." Then suddenly, he smiled proudly when he noticed the impressed, amused look on the rocker's face at this last statement. Maybe the "Cook - cook" pun didn't take off, but he'd just thought of another spontaneously funny joke and was quite pleased with himself because of it.

"Ouch again," grinned Cook, "You're on fire today little man." David suddenly remembered the "Why don't you tell me" sassy remark he'd made earlier.

David smiled again as Cook continued, "Anyway, I think the word you were searching for was "cache."

"Yes!" David exclaimed, "That's it! Oh gosh, thank you. It was killing me," he laughed. Cook smiled as he sat down with his coffee, then looked at his young friend again and said, "You know, it's funny. Because, I thought of a really funny comment this morning when I woke up, but then I was like, 'Aw, Archie would have loved this," but now I'm," he chuckled, "I'm remembering thinking to myself, 'It's already lost all it's cache.' Weird, huh?" he grinned.

Archie was surprised as well. "Wow," he said, his eyes wide, putting another two pieces of sweet, butter-and-syrup-covered pancake into his mouth and swallowing before saying, "Yeah that is weird."

A couple minutes went by of the two friends eating and talking while watching the news, until the doorbell rang. Archie turned to Cook and asked, "Who would be here this early?"

Cook took one more sip of coffee before getting up off the stool and saying, "Yeah, I don't know. I'll go see who it is first." David turned back to the TV as Cook made his way over to the apartment door and looked through the peephole. "Oh, it's Doctor Adams," said Cook. Archie raised his eyebrows in a little bit of surprise. Doctor Rocco Adams was their neighbor, a physician that lived a few doors down. They knew him quite well but he'd never stopped by this early. Cook unlatched the lock and opened up the door. Had it been anyone else he wouldn't have greeted thim in a gray T-shirt and boxers, but the Doctor was on a very personal, casual level with the two David's.

"Hey Rocco," greeted Cook with a friendly smile.

"Hey Cook, how's it goin' buddy?" Rocco asked pleasantly with a firm handshake.

Cook returned the handshake. "Pretty good, pretty good, how bout yourself?"

"I'm just on my way out to the office."

Archie swiveled half way around on his stool and gave a friendly wave. Doctor Rocco J. Adams, M.D., or just "Doc" as most people in the apartment called him, was in his early fifties, either fifty one or fifty two, but he could have passed for in his forties. He was quite tall, about 6'2, and very fit. He was bald but he had hair on the sides and around the back, and this was the only hint that he was older than his personality showed because it was slowly going from brown to gray. He had an extremlely round, yet thin head, and always wore big glasses. He was wearing his white lab coat with the blue letters of his name printed on the upper left side, and he was carrying a briefcase. "Hey Doc!" David called. "Oh, hey David. How've you been?" Archie said, "Well, the day got of to quite an... interesting start," he drawaled, shooting a look at Cook, who smirked in return, "But yeah, I'm doing great," he smiled. He turned back to the TV to watch while he listened to the conversation at the door.

"So Cook, sorry to stop by so early but I was on my way out when I remembered that your mailbox key was still in my apartment and I wanted to give it back to you-" he said, as David was watching a recap of Joe Liberman talking about his endorsement of John McCain, but assumed that Doc was handing Cook the key. "Oh, thanks Doc," Cook said.

"And I was downstairs so I brought the mail up for you."

"Aw man, thanks!" said Cook.

"Oh, it's no problem man. Oh hey! I was just talking to Doctor Love down at the office, and he got me two tickets to the big jazz festival down in the park. But as it turns out, I'm not gonna be able to go. Do you guys want 'em?"

"You sure you're not gonna use 'em?" Cook replied, excitement building in his voice. As David took another bite of his breakfast and washed it down with a gulp of orange juice, he hoped Cook wouldn't make him go. Cook LOVED to go to those jazz festivals. Which was odd, seeing as he seems all rock, but he really did love them. Often times Archie would tag along with him but he was always the only person his age there, and it was awkward just lurking around with Cook when he talked to other jazz fanatics.

"Oh yeah," said Doc, "If you want 'em, go ahead and take 'em. And this band, I saw them last year and they are dynamite!"

Cook turned to David and called, "You hear that Archie? Doc says they're 'dynamite'! Maybe you and I can go?"

Archie turned around hesitently and said, "Yeah..." but then got a good a idea, "Or you could take Kim!" he said with a hopeful look. "Oh yeah, she loves this kind of stuff!" said Cook. Archie turned back to his pancakes with a sigh of relief. "Whew..."

"Well anyway, thanks for stopping by Doc. I'll definitely take those tickets."

"Alright!" Doc said happily. "Well I'm gonna get to the office, I'll see you around. Bye David!"

"Bye!" David called with a wave. Cook shut the door and came over to the counter with the mail. "Hey this is great!" he said, flipping through the envelopes, "You sure you don't mind if I take Kim?" Cook asked.

Archie gave him a big grin and said, "Oooohhhhhh yeah. I'm sure."

"Great. Hey, wonder what this is?" Cook placed the rest of the evelopes down on the counter and pulled out just one. "It's from Cyber School."

"Huh," said Archie. Cyber School was the homeschool program he used instead of regular school. He knew his grades were currently great, so he wasn't scared... just curious as Cook opened up the letter.
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