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 Posted: Fri Mar 19, 2010 11:52 am
Saturdays were her future-planning days. She went to work for eight hours, then she would go home and plan her future. Things were finally looking up--her bank account was growing, Giselle was back, she had a boyfriend and two friends besides. And, because of these facts, she had taken one Saturday off and then called Parker. Someone needed to help her pick apartments; and Giselle insisted she had too much work to do.
So Parker had shown up at 8:30 in the morning, and they had headed out into the world. After the long explanation engendered by Parker's presence--No, we're not dating, no we're not related, he's not gay--she had started to tell people... well, stories. They were twins. He was her husband. They were dating. She was his bodyguard. At first, he'd seemed pretty annoyed, but eventually he'd started to play along, and that was fun enough.
The first six apartments had been washes; they'd taken a break for lunch, eating at a diner as Tate excitedly showed him the next six. He had asked if she was serious. She'd hit him, and told him to be grateful she hadn't upended her tea over his head.
Now they were walking into apartment number ten, and Parker rolled his eyes as Tate seriously explained that he was her brother. The supers always asked, she found, but now she had a better idea of what to say to look like a Good Christian Girl. They were investigating one of the empty bedrooms when she said, "I don't think I like this one, Parker. It's kind of... cramped." It was, the rooms all separated. It made everything look a lot smaller than it was.
"Your opinion?" She was looking at him seriously. This was a distraction for her stealing a Twizzler and meticulously picking it apart.
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Posted: Fri Mar 19, 2010 12:29 pm
Most people had better things to do on Saturdays than ride in the sidecar of someone else's errands spree. Parker did not.
He was more than happy to waste the day with Tate, an activity that had become a habit. Without Dani to get him out of Hillworth, Parker was relying more and more on Tate. Which was really just fine. The two understood their dynamic, and there wouldn't have to be any weirdness.
Unexpected side effect of enhanced Tate-time: more bruises.
What Tate's punches lacked in strength they made up for in number. She had a knack for landing her knuckle in the same spot each time too. Damn hand-eye coordination.
That day had been a grueling climb from apartment to apartment. Parker ate Twizzlers and sipped on a soda. Tate ran her mouth. He nearly swallowed his straw when the first real estate agent opened with, "Oh, are you two engaged?" He stared blankly when the next told him there was a really classy gay bar down the street. He bristled when the third place told Tate it was nice of her to drag along her kid brother. It was a buyer's market in Destiny City. (Gee -- who wouldn't want to live in a city plagued by vigilante violence?) The brokers were desperate to sell, and were willing to go along with anything if it meant sealing the deal.
Tate was prepared to test that willingness.
"Oh, we're twins."
"...really?"
"Yes, Tate got the manly chest hair I've always wanted."
"Well, Parker here ended up with the smooth girlish arms."
By the ninth place, Parker was helping lead the story, including the performance of a passionate monologue to go along with their bodyguard-movie star bluff. He made Tate do several push ups to prove her strength. The whole day had brought a grin to Parker's face, one that he was having a hard time shaking. It was a similar happiness to what he felt with Dani, but different -- very different. Over lunch, Parker even let Tate eat half of his fries without complaining once.
Okay, maybe he complained a little.
Now the dynamic duo was on to their tenth stop, and Parker let Tate take the lead. She would have done it anyway. Brother? All right. He could go along with that. Parker and Tate resembled each other in height and little else, but the super just nodded and led the way to the apartment.
Parker did the normal dance through the apartment, opening cabinets, peeking into closets, rubbing counters with his hand. This would be Tate's place, but he tried to be helpful. He also tried to set a world record for Most Twizzlers Consumed in a Day. He followed Tate into the empty bedroom, dragging a finger across the windowsill. It came up sticky.
Gross.
"It's big enough," he said, wiping his finger on his pants. "But the windows are placed... weird. I don't know. More light might be nice. The kitchen is pretty small too, and that stove looks older than me." Parker peeked through the open door and spotted the super washing his hands in the sink. Maybe he had touched a dirty windowsill too. "I liked the fourth place better. The one on the first floor with the back patio. I know the location is crap, but it felt... better."
Parker popped another Twizzler in his mouth. "Your call, captain." And then paced over to the closet, testing the hinge.
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Posted: Fri Mar 19, 2010 12:49 pm
"You just like that one because the super said you had a sexy mullet," Tate said, going to punch him and then thinking better of it. At some point he might get annoyed with the punching and leave, so. Hold back on it.
Sigh. She contemplated the matter of the small kitchen. She contemplated the ancient stove and the sticky windowsills. Then she weighed the pros against the cons. It wasn't like she would actually use the kitchen so much; she certainly couldn't cook very well. Some noodles, really, was the limit of her culinary prowess...
She shook her head. "We've still got two more to go. I will definitely keep this one in mind, though." The addition was to the super, who had come to see how things were going. "Thanks so much for the help," she said, going over to shake the man's hand. "I'll call you if things pan out. Okay?" Then she looped her arm through Parker's and dragged him out. In the dark stairwell, she was giggling. It was full-out laughter by the time they emerged onto the street.
"So, anyway, where were we before that? College. How's that going?" It was no secret Tate wanted Parker for a roommate. He was actually a challenging opponent in Halo now.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 11:31 am
Parker touched at his hair. "I don't have a mullet. It's layered," he explained, holding up the shortest layer of his hair for her to see. It was mostly true, but he also had an angle cut into it, which didn't help.
Chewing at the rubbery flesh of his latest Twizzler, Parker paced over the carpet, checking outlets and doorknobs and sniffing at the drapes. Tate was through seeing it. She usually made her choices quickly enough. "Oh joy," Parker said. He let himself be dragged out. It didn't stop him from laughing too, especially at the bizarre look the super shot at them just before they turned down to the stairwell.
Back on the street, Parker watched as Tate checked for the address of the next place. She was the navigator, he was the passenger. The arrangement was fine by him. It helped that she was the one with the car.
The subject of college killed his laughter. "College..." he said, lowering his eyes. The truth was that Parker had been meaning to talk to Tate about his situation all day. He just hadn't known how to come out and tell her that everything he feared had come true. Now was as good of a time as any. "I got my final rejection." Parker didn't make eye contact. "I got rejected from a school in one of the cities with the worst crime rates in the whole damn country. What idiot parent would send their kid here now?" Lucky for Parker, he had no parents to make such an objection. It didn't help him get into the school, unfortunately.
The news had come two days ago, but Parker hadn't said anything to Tate. At first, he was crushed -- and then embarrassed. And then mortified, despondent, grieving. Going away to college had been his 'get out of jail free' card, and now he didn't even have that.
Parker didn't stop walking. If he did, he was afraid they would have to have a serious talk about this, and he wasn't sure he could handle it. Parker liked to process things internally, and this was still something he was puzzling over. He sipped at his drink. "GeekSquad accepted my application. They want me to train now and start part time. If I last that long, they will make me a full-time employee." Was that good news? Parker had no idea. It was just the one place that hadn't rejected him.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 12:22 pm
They made it back to her car, and she made a face at the meter maid two cars down as they got in the car. Five minutes and then they'd have to head out, but she intended on making use of those five minutes. She locked her doors as she sorted through her papers. The next apartment was in a good place, a neighborhood that her uncle had pointed out as cheap but not sketchy; extensive parks, accessibility to the subway. Absently, she pulled off her beret and tossed it into the back seat. Apparently there were caves in the parks. It sounded like a good place to go hide out if she wanted.
"I think we have the worst crime rate in the country," Tate said, like that was supposed to help. (It didn't.) She located the right piece of paper, read off the address to herself, and set the papers back between them. "It's not like anyone will know. Especially if this apartment pans out--look. You're smart. You'll make it that long and reapply for Spring '11 and we'll hit the books together, or something."
Parker was not listening. She put the car in drive, purposefully grinding the gears. The loud noise did get his attention. "Look, man. One door closes, there's gonna be a window somewhere." That window hopefully led into sharing an apartment with her come June, but no one could say for sure. She gave him a speculative glance. "You can always stay with me," she said, hardly daring to hope. "This next one is in East Heights. Between DCU and Sovereign. Two bedrooms, no laundry, but I can live with that for the price of no sticky windowsills. Ready?"
Ready or not, off they went.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 12:30 pm
The good thing about Tate? She didn't push the issue. If she sensed that Parker was not ready to talk about something, Tate would back off, move on. She knew that he would talk when he needed to, and if he protested, she had a sense of knowing when it was worth dropping it and when it was worth forcing him to spill. She was the first person he had told about the rejection, and he was happy for it.
The car was hot from sitting in the sun. It was only March, but already, the haze of winter weather had lifted. Sunny summer breezes teased their way through the city, a promise of things to come. Parker cracked the window. "I need a plan B," he said, resting his chin against the pane.
When Parker agreed to come along with Tate, he had done so under the guise of wanting to help her out, but this was not entirely true. The day he graduated, Parker would be kicked out of Hillworth. He hated the school, but it gave him a bed to sleep in. Without college to transition to, Parker would be homeless. He could stay in the youth hostel for a time, but that was neither stable nor reliable. Not to mention he'd have to pay a daily rate.
Secretly, Parker wanted to see where Tate was looking... to see if he could afford it. She kept saying he could stay with her. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea? These were all thoughts in his head, none were repeated out loud for Tate's benefit.
Instead Parker stuffed another Twizzler into his mouth and said, "Lead the way, captain," before sinking farther down into the seat.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 1:06 pm
"You are going to get sick," said Tate. They sat in traffic for a good ten minutes--she was an angry driver. She was an angry most things, when she was alone; the first time they'd met up in person after the computer cafe meeting, she'd said maybe fifteen words by the end of the conversation. Then they had gone home and spoken on the internet, and there was brash, stupid Tate again--it was a good pattern, but one that had broken the first time he'd picked up the wrong Godstone in one of her games. You're a ******** idiot, she had said. Then homonculi descended from the ceiling and--
They got to East Heights pretty quickly, though, for a Saturday around three. Tate did not bring up any plans, A or B or C, but just cursed out the old lady in front of her; it was a blue streak. A cobalt blue streak. The street she parked on was quiet, tree-lined on the one side, and the building she dragged him to was old-fashioned. She knocked on the door and turned to Parker. "Story this time is cousins," she said, grinning and offering the older boy her hand. He glared at her for a minute, and then took it just as the supervisor opened the door.
"Hi! I'm Tate Konstantin, this is my cousin, Parker," she said, brightly. "You posted this ad on the internet, you're renting out an apartment?"
The man nodded, stepped out of the way and gestured them in. "The name's James Abraham, I own the building. Which unit were you looking at? We have one open on the third floor, two on the fourth, and one more on the sixth." Tate looked over at Parker, a little startled; none of the places so far had had so many open units yet.
"Third floor, I guess," she decided, and they went up the stairs together as the man launched into a spiel: the rent included water, sewage, cable, and internet, extra packages came exactly that, extra. It was 1,050 a month, with electric it would probably come out to 1,150 a month, give or take. The noise cut out at 10pm or he would be up to see why; he disapproved of that senshi business, but if one of 'em was a senshi they just had to be discreet.
This brought them to the door of the apartment. The hallway was hardwood, scuffed, some kind of cherry maybe, with oldish wallpaper--white, with red print of some kind. Tate looked at it, interested, but then the door was unlocked and they walked into the apartment. "Bedrooms are there and there. Bathroom's over there; the nearest laundromat is about a block down the road, close enough to walk." The phone on James Abraham's belt rang; he cursed and excused himself.
Tate looked around the room. The floor in the kitchen area was tile; there was a refrigerator, a stove and what looked to be a dishwasher. A sink in the corner; she puttered over the white tiles to run her fingertips along the white Formica. "It's smaller than the last one," she said, but she seemed hesitant. From the door, you could see the kitchen and the living room area--the floor was creme berber, the walls painted seafoam green. Not the best color combo, but Tate seemed to be more invested in investigating the fridge.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 2:38 pm
Parker cradled his bag of Twizzlers to his chest, the plastic crinkling over the whir of the air conditioning. "Don't try your Jedi mind tricks on me," he said, narrowing his eyes. He took a matter-of-fact bite out of the Twizzler and then resumed staring out the window until they reached the next place.
It was in the East Heights, which was nice. Parker knew the place for different reasons than most. It was the place where his dad got busted with drugs. Several years ago, it was known as a hub for narcotics and crime. Some fat-cat politician made it his running platform the year after Parker's father's arrest. Let's Clean Up East Heights! They built an art museum, tore down old buildings, and started advertising to students from DCU. Now, it was as if the world had switched. Before, East Heights was dangerous. Today, there was nowhere safe in Destiny City.
Tate had a plan in mind before Parker could devise one of his own, but there was no time to change it. He grasped her hand just as the door swung open, waving and smiling when Tate introduced him. "So pleased to be in the big city," Parker said, slapping a stupid grin on his face.
James Abraham looked like a harried man. When he spoke, his cheeks flushed in big red splotches, and his hands had a habit of disappearing in and out of his pocket every few seconds as if he was constantly checking for his keys. Parker leaned in to Tate as they approached the door and whispered, "He seems a little desperate to rent, yeah?" Tate nodded, but Mr. James shot around to look at them, stifling the conversation.
Inside the apartment was to be expected: old, badly decorated. It would be easy to get hung up on the peeling paint or dusty floors. From the look of it, no one had been living in this place for a long time. Mr. James left and Parker watched for him to step into the hallway before turning back to Tate. "This is a really good deal, Tate," he said, following her to the kitchen. "All the utilities are included except electricity, and it is under 1500? And in East Heights?" The area was peppered with subway stops, boutiques, art galleries, and butted up into DC Chinatown -- one of the best places to eat, in Parker's opinion.
Plus, it was close to the BestBuy he would be working at starting next week. From Hillworth, it was a thirty minute train-ride. From here, it would be a ten minute walk.
Three years ago, this place would've been snapped up in a heartbeat. So why was it still on the market? Parker opened up the cabinets in the kitchen. There was a lot of space, actually, for storage. "Tate," he said, turning to face her. "We should ask him why this is still on the market. There could be some weird electrical problem or something."
And there it was: we. We should ask because we will be living here. Parker hadn't asked yet, hadn't said anything, but he knew he'd have to suck it up at some point. He'd contemplated living alone briefly, but it was much more expensive. Tate kept bringing it up, but he was never sure just how serious she was about it. If she was kidding and he came to her earnestly asking to room with her, it would be both awkward and painful. Parker didn't want to go through that. His subconscious was willing to break the ice for him, apparently.
"It's only a little smaller," Parker added, checking out the dimensions on the little map Mr. James had provided. "The layout it much better though, look how open the living room is. You could actually fit a table in here. In the last place, it would have blocked the door." Cerulean eyes appraised the layout again, hands opening drawers and blinds to find any hidden flaws.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 4:11 pm
"I know, right," said Tate as she fussed with the taps. It was a great deal, and she could be technically minded if she wanted to be. The problem was only that it was hard to get her motivated. In this case, though, she was already wiping at a spot on the counter with her sleeve. That could be a good sign. Maybe. "I can fix the walls easy, the floors can just take some sweeping." She had done the same thing in the last ten apartments, brushing off the physical imperfections unless it was really glaring. (One place had had a hole in the walls.)
The subconscious proposition from Parker went unnoticed by Tate as she opened the door to one of the bedrooms, peering in. The hinges didn't creak, and that was good. Door was solid, the knob turned all right. Further investigation into that room yielded a white carpet--sort of dingy, but she could fix that, with enough time. And the closet door worked, the rod was strong... She emerged into the main space to blink at Parker. "So, man, if we're gonna do this, here's the rules." She shut the door, dusted off her hands. Then she jerked her thumb to indicate the room she'd just looked into. "This room is mine."
For a long moment, they stared at each other. Then she threw her hands out to the sides and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, that's it." Out of rules already.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 4:48 pm
Just like that, Parker and Tate agreed to be roommates.
"Okay, fine by me," he said, crossing out of the room and over to the one closer to the bathroom. He performed a similar dance, pulling here, prodding there. His carpet seemed to be in better shape than the one in Tate's actually. Good thing she hadn't noticed. It wasn't furnished, but Craigslist was good for more than shady hook-ups. If that failed, Parker was willing to dumpster dive. The only thing he planned to buy new would be a mattress.
The living room needed a cleaning -- the whole place did really. In the hallway, Parker heard Mr. James ending his phone call. He tracked back over to Tate and said, "We should haggle him down, or at least get him to have some clean the apartment." The moment the words left his mouth, Mr. James had returned, cheeks still flushed.
He tucked his hand into his pocket and approached them. "So, what do you think? The location is great, isn't it? Really great -- you both eighteen, right?" Parker and Tate nodded. Mr. James didn't really smile. He more or less smushed his mouth into a straight line and nodded.
Parker couldn't hold it in. "Why do you have so many empty apartments if this place is so great?" He thought Tate might hit him, but she made no move to do it. Good. This was a question worth asking.
Mr. James sighed and scratched at the back of his neck. "Okay, I get it, I get it. I know there were some terrorists spotted in our area. There have been terrorists spotted everywhere. Destiny City is a fine place to live," he said, frowning, "but some people don't see it that way."
Parker glanced over to Tate. How did she want to do this? He raised an eyebrow at her. Mr. James caught sight of it and folded his arms across his chest. "Look, you're not the only one interested in this apartment. I have a whole class of kids coming to DCU next year that will need somewhere to live... in August." The concern in his eyes gave away his discomfort.
"In August," Parker echoed. He looked at Tate again, sending her a silent message he hoped she'd receive.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 5:18 pm
Tate had poked around the bathroom while Parker was off in the room that would be his. It looked okay, but like everything, showed signs of long disuse. She could clean that, too... Parker came back out, and she joined him to wait for James Abraham. It wasn't a very long wait, but she still found time to jam her elbow in Parker's ribs. She pulled at her ponytail, pursed her lips and stared around the room. It wasn't worth getting someone else to clean the apartment, in her opinion; everything they needed to clean up, they would need anyway.
That could just be Tate sucking at confronting people she didn't know, though.
She let Parker do the talking, her arms crossed over her chest. Being Destiny City natives, the senshi-spotting was not exactly a repellent; having jobs secured made an apartment a necessity, at least for Parker. Tate had her family home if it all came down to it... So James Abraham had people who wanted to move in in August? She caught sight of the look, sighed.
"We need to move in by June at the latest," she said.
Mr. James looked from Tate to Parker and back. "I'm prepared to move in within the month," she said, "monetarily." She looked to Parker. He didn't have family to back him up; she didn't know that he would be okay with her proposing that kind of bargain.
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Posted: Sun Mar 21, 2010 7:10 am
Parker had the funds to move in too, but he didn't want to say so in front of Mr. James. Didn't Tate understand haggling? Oh well, he could take it from here. He would love to have a nice, logical debate.
"Mr. James," he said, taking a step forward, "let's be logical. This apartment has clearly had no one living in it for some time." Parker dragged his finger across the nearby counter and held it up for him to see the dust accumulated there. It looked like his finger had a gray beard. "That means that you have been sitting on an empty apartment -- several empty apartments, as you said -- without anyone paying you rent. That must cause a significant financial burden, I'm sure."
Parker wiped his finger off on the leg on his jeans. "We are interested in the place, but it worries me that so few others seem to be living here now. You need someone in here. We would like to move in here. But it is concerning that the building is so empty." The speech was mostly true. He feigned concern over the occupancy more than he really had. Destiny City was dangerous everywhere. Sure, this area had experienced attacks and sightings, but the market was terrible for selling/renting in DC right now. Parker felt confident he could shake down Mr. James for a little more.
The man got redder in the face. He seemed annoyed, but he was being careful not to show it, which told Parker that he really really didn't want to scare off potential renters. "Look. The building is a great deal. You're not going to find another place in this area that..." He stopped, sighed, and rubbed at his eyes. "Okay: here's the thing. You two are eighteen. I'm not asking for a co-signer. I'm not asking for a proof of credit. If you pay your first three months of rent in advance, I would let you move in tomorrow, for Chrissake. Terrorists or no terrorists, there aren't a hell of a lot of places that will do that for you." His phone vibrated at his side again, and he picked it up to glance at the caller ID.
Parker crossed his arms. "I have another lease that won't expire until May." That 'lease' was called Hillworth, but he wasn't about to say that.
Mr. James was still holding his phone. "Fine, fine. Move in now, and I will make it 1000 flat -- 500 each without the electricity. Now, it's a damn good deal, okay? I gotta take this." He flipped his phone open again and marched back into the hallway.
Parker turned to Tate. "I could pay that," he said. Granted, the money he would have to use would be everything he had saved up for college, but that door was closed -- at least for now.
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Posted: Sun Mar 21, 2010 9:17 am
This was why she had brought Parker along, seriously. Tate linked her fingers together behind her head, grinning the whole time. "Me too," said the brunette after James Abraham had left. "Man, what would I do without you, Parker?"
Curl up, die, and never leave Mariska's house ever. "We graduate in June, dumbass." But, you know, if he wanted to say May...
She rolled her shoulders back, a little bit of worry slipping into her expression. She wanted out of that house, but at the same time, this apartment would technically put her outside of Meadowview's jurisdiction. Parker, of course, couldn't leave Hillworth and still graduate...
"So. We pay--we move in next week if it all goes well--then I can hold down the fort until they start letting you out of Alcatraz. No cheating with rubber rafts made out of raincoats, dude. You're welcome to stay weekends though."
It was just teasing. To reinforce this, she punched him on the arm again.
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Posted: Sun Mar 21, 2010 10:02 am
If Parker was Tate, he would have punched her for the June comment. Instead, he said, "I have to be sure I've got a place the day I graduate. So I said May. I was going to try to get him to throw in the first month of rent free, but he just lowered the rate." The idea of having a second place to escape to in his last months at Hillworth seemed like a brilliant idea. This was paradise, Parker's own personal Xanadu.
He crossed to the window and lifted it open, checked the lock. The place had a lot of potential. "It's a lot of money to pay for a place I won't be living in for another two months." Parker let the window fall back down. It slammed harder than he expected, but it was hardly a reason not to buy the place. "Of course I'd be welcome to stay weekends," he said, turning to face her. "I'd be splitting the rent, damn." A grin cracked his contemplative expression, even when she punched him.
Parker sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "Okay, let's do this. ******** it. I can spend all of my free time here. And we can do all the painting and furniture hunting in the mean time. We'll have the time. Once I go full-time at GeekSquad, I'll be able to manage the rent." It might not have been the smartest idea in the world, but Parker was 18 and feeling impulsive. It was hard to turn down this place when it could offer an escape from Hillworth he had never had before. With all the disappointment of college rejection, Parker was ready for good news.
Mr. James stalked back into the room, clipping his cellphone onto his belt. His face seemed to have taken on a deeper shade of red. Who was calling this guy? Parker crossed back over. "Can we paint?" he asked. Mr. James nodded and mentioned that they had some spare supplies that he might be willing to let them use.
Parker asked about maintenance, packages, mail, neighbors, noise policies, parking rules, move-in fees, move-out fees, rental insurance, pet policy (note to self: convince Tate to allow kitten), and even good restaurants in the area. The questioning was rapid fire but thorough, and Tate stood there, eyes bouncing back and forth like she was at a tennis match.
Finally, Parker nodded and took a final sip from his soda. "Okay. We're ready to look at that paperwork now." He turned to Tate. "Aren't we?" Read: Speak now or forever hold your peace.
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Posted: Tue Mar 23, 2010 8:19 pm
What Parker was saying made sense, and she shrugged. "It was good that you came along, I would've been sunk otherwise." True facts. She could acknowledge when someone did something well! This didn't mean she wouldn't pester Parker later to tell her how he did that. If she'd tried to negotiate, the owner probably would have kicked her out. Hmph.
"I'll bring furniture," said Tate with a shrug; "The stuff in my room's all mine, so." Only her pillows were kind of bloody now, after the whole Wolframite ordeal. She grinned back, her hands on her hips as she surveyed her (their) domain. Or it would be, anyway.
Her arms dropped back to her sides as James Abraham walked back in, though she was still grinning like an idiot. "Yes," said Tate, "Let's go look at some paperwork." They did; and only after surreptitious inquires to Parker about wording (he seemed to know about this sort of thing) did they sign off and hand off checks to Mr. Abraham.
Following him out, Tate paused in the doorway to look back at the apartment ("Don't dawdle too long," snapped James Abraham).
"Did we really just do that," she asked, her tone that of religious awe.
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