Page 5 of This I Promise You
Was itStar Trek? Aidan hatesStar Trek.
“I mean…we…” I blow out my lips and release a big breath. “Okay.”
Paul
Freckles
Huxley and her parents spent all weekend moving into and decorating our new place, save for my room. She forced me to meet her parents, and I’m not going to lie, they seemed nice. Rich, but they were pleasant, not really how I expect rich people to act. I’m still not sure why she couldn’t just get her own place. Her parents can clearly afford it. I’ve known her for two seconds and I can already tell she’s the type of person to get whatever she wants.
Her parents seem cool though, I guess. I don’t know. Parental figures make me uncomfortable. Which makes sense with the parents I have. So I did what I felt obligated to do and left her to do whatever the hell she wanted while I locked myself in my room with the few possessions I took with me.
Gah! Must be nice to have parents to depend on for literally everything. My parents are pretty well off and they gave all five of us a monthly allowance. I tried to get a job as a teenager, but my dad wouldn’t let me. He wouldn’t let any of us. He said, “If you have time to work, you have time to find your own place and pay your own fucking bills.” He wanted to control everything we did. So I just took his money until he stopped giving it.
When I left Missouri I had a good chunk saved up, but I knew it would come to an end, so I lived in my car and showered at any gym I could find on my way to Charlotte.
Until today. This apartment is a godsend.
I still can’t believe I actually did it. I moved out of Kansas City. The place I had spent my entire life. The verycenterof hell, though it wasn’t always like that. I miss my younger years when life seemed less complex, before puberty. Before I started to notice boys. I had to go though. I couldn’t be there anymore with all the bad shit life turned into.
So I found a random school where I could transfer my credits and still graduate on time, filled up my car with anything I could fit into it, and left. There really isn’t anything more substantial to it. I didn’t give a fuck, I just wanted to go. Now I’m in Charlotte. I could’ve gone anywhere. Yet I’m here.
Huxley really went all out designing the living room. It’s not big but definitely larger than a dorm. Even though I have to share, I’m thankful. We each have our own bedroom with our own bathroom on opposite ends of the house. Her room is toward the front, off the living room, with a balcony. Mine is the smaller room at the back off of the kitchen, no balcony.
I had enough stuff to sort of fill my room, but all the shit in the living room makes my room laughable. She even painted. Peacock blue, she told me. Let me reiterate,peacock fucking blue. Who paints their walls peacock blue? I don’t hate it, I’m just surprised. It’s actually incredibly chic.
Maybe Ishouldask her to help with my room?
“Oh hey, you’re home!”
“Shit! You scared me.” I jump. Where thehelldid she come from?
“I tend to do that. My bad,” Huxley apologizes.
“So much to look forward to then,” I deadpan with an eye roll. She’s smiling and I can’t help but match it. I just got back from the gym and made a smoothie. I take a swig and gesture to the living room. “How did you do all of this in two days?”
“It’s cute, right?” You can tell she isn’t really asking. She knows it’s cute. She also didn’t answer my question. I hate that shit.
“It’s amazing. You’re a witch or something.”
“Damn right I am. Anyway, what are you doing tonight? Wanna go out?”
“What? Why? It’s Monday!”
“It’s the first week of school and there’s shit going on every night. My friends and I go to this little speakeasy to drink and chill and tonight they're having an open mic night. They can’t go, so I thought we could go together, yeah?”
“Uhhhhh—”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Shower and put on something cute. If you need help, I gotchu. Actually, I might have an oversized striped button-down thing that would fit you nicely. Do you have black skinny jeans? Preferably with holes in the knees?”
“Uh. Pretty sure all of my jeans have holes in them.”
“Perf!” Huxley does this shoulder wag thing.
“Are you always like this?” My eyes narrow.
“You’ll get used to it. Now go. You stink and we need to leave in thirty.”
Thirty minutes? Dammit! I still have no idea who this woman truly is. I’ve known her for two days and she fucking terrifies me. But also, I think I kind of like her.
