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 Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 6:15 am
None of the furniture in Parker's room was his. So he'd have to go searching. "Craigslist will be my furniture friend," he said, nodding. This new apartment was a puzzle that Parker was ready to fiddle with until he got it right. "So he's sending cleaners up here tomorrow. I might have time Wednesday to come and plan paint and stuff. You free?" It would be easy to do it Tuesday, but Parker had a plan. A plan to go talk to Dani.
He hadn't shared that with Tate and didn't intend to until it was all said and done. Parker wanted to know the outcome before he had to tell Tate about it so that he could come to terms with it first. Would Dani reject him? He didn't know. He hoped not. Either way, he was going to find out Tuesday afternoon.
Parker walked the floor of his new apartment, a smile working its way across his features. He turned to Tate. "This is ours," he said. "Holy s**t, this is ours." It was the first place Parker could ever call his own. It was... home.
The smile was breaking larger and wider every second. "All right, let's go celebrate. With food. If we don't leave now, I might have a hard time leaving at all." Parker made his way to the door.
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Posted: Thu Mar 25, 2010 7:58 am
"At least vet it first," said Tate, patting Parker's arm. "Call me if you need stuff picked up." She didn't know if she wanted to keep the car--parking here seemed like it'd be pretty crazy expensive--but she could sell it to get things for the apartment. Paint. Things like that. But definitely paint first. With a sigh, she scuffed at the carpet. "Yup. Free all week, just call first, you know the drill."
She grinned at him, thinking that this was possibly the first time she'd ever seen him smile that hadn't made it look like a chore. "I think we should go to Jonesy Rocket's. Cheap food. Lots of cheap food. For cheap. Also, chicken fingers. Let's go." They drew faces with the ketchup at Jonesy Rocket's--it amused Tate.
Tate was easily amused.
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Posted: Thu Mar 25, 2010 8:05 am
Parker nodded. His Twizzlers were eaten, his soda emptied. Clearly it was time for more food. "Yeah, let's eat cheap. My stomach hurts from writing that big of a check." Not to mention it was the money he had saved for college, college that he would not be attending for awhile. Signing the lease, spending that money -- it made his collegiate rejection feel more real.
Maybe some ketchup faces would cheer him up.
Leading the way out the door, Parker and Tate debated colors and hypothetical rules for the apartment all throughout dinner, stopping only when Tate dropped him off at Hillworth with a charming, "Get the ******** out of my car, we aren't painting s**t gray!" She sped off, and Parker returned to his dungeon.
Hillworth wouldn't have its hold on him for much longer.
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