#My heart says: buy it. but my bank account says: girl you gotta save some money

[gobald]

Look I'm not saying I'm obsessed with Fallout 4, but I just found the closest thing to the Summer Shorts outfit. I just need the Fashionable Glasses and a Pip-boy, and I'm ready for Arg Comic-Con!

[bqstqnbruin]

Priceless

Ok so here I am somehow with a second fic in a matter of, what, two ish days? Anyway, this is one that I wrote and posted last year but I reread it and it sucked so I took it down and rewrote it. Hope you like it!

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: none? swearing? Typos for sure.

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You loved him with your whole heart; there was nothing that you wouldn’t do for him, and you knew that he felt the same about you. At least, that’s what you used to believe.

Ever the one for dramatics, a three am alarm was what made you question not only your whole relationship but your whole existence. The witching hour was an ungodly time to be waking up and getting ready, no matter what the reason was. Even when it involved flying off to Europe for a destination wedding that involved Jake’s entire team.

“Babe?” you call to him, the shower just turning off. He pokes his head out, hair wet, droplets of water rolling down his face as he waited for you to answer, “We’re going to have time to stop at a Dunkin’, right?” you whine, doing everything in your power to not pass out then and there instead of finishing your packing.

“Maybe?” he says, ducking back into the bathroom before coming out with just a towel on, hanging on his waist. If you weren’t so exhausted, the things you could be doing right now, your mind wanders as he continues talking, “We have to get through TSA and I don’t think they would allow you to bring that through security, would they?”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter to yourself, throwing the last of what you needed into your suitcase, trying to find anything of Jake’s lying around that you knew he would forget. “What if I finish it in the car before we go through security?” you beg, hoping he’ll cave.

“Y/N,” he sings, “then you’re going to have to use the bathroom a million times and it’s going to be my fault.”

“Do I have to be pleasant before I get coffee in me?”

You hear him laugh from the bathroom as you lean back on the bed and close your eyes. “You wouldn’t be you if you were pleasant before your coffee, babe.” You do everything in your power to try to stay awake while he gets ready, him saying random things as he runs around getting dressed, you murmuring weak responses in return. “Hey, come on, sleepyhead,” he says, pulling you off the bed, “We’ve gotta get to Logan.”

You drive there in silence, praying for the moment you get coffee in you as you still struggle to stay awake while Jake keeps talking. The car stops, Jake pulling down the window when you finally open your eyes, seeing that you were sitting in the drive-thru line at Dunkin. “God, I love you,” you say, leaning over and kissing his cheek, a smile covering his face.

“Who’s paying, you or me?” he asks, not letting you answer due to the voice of the cashier inside coming through the speaker to take your order. Two small coffees, enough to hold you over for the drive to the airport before you get more coffee once you’re through the gate. He looks at you as you stare down at your phone, having to check your bank account to see if you even had the money to begin with. “I’ll pay for both,” he says, a calm tone covering her voice.

Money for you was tight. You had never really struggled to pay your bills and your share of the utilities, but you definitely didn’t have the amount of extra cash that Jake did because of the seemingly never-ending student loan payments you were making. “I’m sorry,” you say, taking the coffee from him so he can get to driving again. You hated having the money conversation; no matter who you talked to, they always seemed to bring up the fact that your NHL player boyfriend made more money in a single season than you had seen in your entire life. It always left things awkward, as the implication of you being a gold digger hung in the air between you and the person you were having a conversation with. “I can probably transfer some money from my savings for extra stuff, but I had really only planned on buying a few meals and a few other trinkets for my family,” you admit, staring at the low number that showed in your checking account.

“Hey,” he says, resting his hand on your thigh, not taking his eyes off the road, “It’s fine. Anything you want, I’ll pay for it.” You smile at him, hoping he couldn’t tell from the corner of his eye that it wasn’t sincere. That was another thing you hated: other people covering for you. You grew up being taught that if you didn’t have money for it, you either didn’t pay for it until you had the money yourself, or you forewent it entirely. Having to worry about paying someone back was unnecessary stress in your life. Or, if they were like Jake, then they would insist it was their treat, not taking the money you owed them no matter how much it was.

You look out the window, the empty, tree-lined highway lighting up as the sun rose over it, the sky turning from the dark purple night to a brilliant orange right in front of you. You had never been one to wake up for the sunrise, taking in the sight for what was probably the first time in your life. “It’s so beautiful,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this calm and quiet before.”

“I’ve seen one thing more beautiful than this,” he says, a huge smile on his face.

“What?” you ask, bracing him for the cheesy comment you knew he was going to make.

“You,” he says, proudly, trying to find your hand without looking away from the road, bringing it to his lips before connecting his back to the wheel.

“God,” you moan, both of you laughing, “That was so corny.”

“Well, they call me Chef JD, gotta have some corn sometimes,” he says, resulting in you screaming.

“I will in fact leave you if you say something like that again,” you tell him.

“Yeah? Where would you live, then?” he teases, immediately regretting his words, “Fuck, sorry.”

“I’d figure something out,” you tell him, trying to match his teasing tone so that he doesn’t think you took it the way you did. The rest of the ride to the airport is in silence, you both finishing your coffee as you pull up, seeing some of the guys getting their stuff out of their car at the same time. “Hey, aren’t international flights normally at night?” you ask Jake, Charlie, and Matt coming over to help you guys get your bags.

“Bergy booked the flight for all of us and we don’t question him,” Charlie says, pulling Jake away from you, the two of them wandering into the airport with Kylie trying to keep up with her own boyfriend

“It should be more concerning to all of you that he has to act like your father,” you say to Matt, walking with him to security. Besides Jake, you were closest to Matt. He adopted you as a pseudo younger sister, the one who knew just as much, if not more about you than your boyfriend.

Matt shrugs, watching Charlie and Jake mess around with each other in line in front of you, “It just kind of happened that way. None of us ever questioned it, like Chuck said.” The two of you watch the boys, bickering about something as they seemingly all forget their girls were standing right around them. You and Matt fall into a mundane conversation, watching Jake and Charlie together as they pass through security. The five of you gather your things, trying to find which way your gate was so you could meet the rest of the guys before boarding the flight.

Matt figured out that you were supposed to head to the left, so naturally, Jake and Charlie veered right, leaving you and Kylie with all their stuff to lug to the gate. “Where are they going?” you ask Kylie, dumbfounded as you struggle to carry Jake’s bag along with your own stuff.

“Charlie mentioned he was hungry on the way here, so I’m just hoping that’s where they’re going,” she mutters, “Dealing with all of them together is like herding cats,” clearly as cranky as you were earlier that morning as you try to stifle your laughter. Just like you, Kylie was not a person to interact with before she had caffeine in her, one of the reasons the two of you got along so well.

You get to the gate, Jake and Charlie nowhere to be seen even though you were suddenly surrounded by the rest of the Bruins roster. From the looks of the waiting area, the flight was mostly the guys and their families, and thankfully so: you would hate to be on a plane with the Bruins organization if you were outside the organization itself. You loved the boys, but god, they were loud and annoying sometimes. Everyone else on the plane would definitely hate the group, but they didn’t care. The city was fueled by the hate of everyone who wasn’t them.

Jake and Charlie finally reappear, more coffee and now food in hand. Jake hands you what he got you as you reposition yourself so you’re sitting cross-legged on the seat, slightly uncomfortable due to how scrunched up you were so you could face him. You lean over, kissing his cheek before you start eating

He turns his head to smile at you as you catch him off guard and kiss him again. “What’s this for?”

“I don’t tell you enough that I appreciate you,” you say to him, taking a bite of the breakfast sandwich he got you.

Jake smiles at you, turning himself so he faces you. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, gently pulling you towards him so he can kiss your forehead, mumbling something you can’t quite make out against your skin. Charlie starts chirping Jake over something, resulting in him leaving you to go argue with his teammates. You can’t help but smile as you watch Jake and his teammates. You knew he loved them, just like they loved him.

“You didn’t have coffee in you when I was talking to you before and you were actually pleasant?” Matt plops down next to you, taking your attention away from Jake.

You roll your eyes at him, even though you knew he was right, “Shut up, Gryz. Jake and I stopped for coffee on the way here. This is round two,” you say, raising the cup to him. The two of you watch some of the younger guys aggregate around Jake and Charlie, Jake telling them some story while they hang onto every word of his, laughing their heads off with every sentence. “God, he loves you guys.”

“Yeah, but you know he loves you more,” Matt says, nudging your shoulder.

“I think he loves Oreos more than he loves me sometimes,” you joke, knowing that it’s not true. Hoping that it’s not true, more like it.

“Trust me, JD loves three things in this order: you, hockey, then Oreos. He loves you more than he loves hockey. Nothing you can do will change that.”

You both laugh, the announcement for your flight to board interrupting the noise the rest of the guys were making. Jake rushes over to your side, picking up the bags both of you were planning on bringing onto the plan, practically pushing Matt out of the way. He kisses you on the cheek, a soft smile on his face.

“What?” you ask him, linking your arm in his.

“I love you,” he says, getting in line behind some of the guys.

“I love you, too,” you say, leaning your head against his arm.

“Ready for seven hours on a plane with these fools?” Jake asks, using his other arm to gesture to the rest of his teammates.

“I’m only ready because you’re with me,” you say to him in a sing-songy voice.

“Woah! So you can be corny, but I can’t?” he jokes, sending you two into a flirty bickering match as you board the plane with everyone. You get settled into your seats, resting your head on his shoulder to hopefully fall back to sleep despite the amount of caffeine coursing through your veins. You can hear the guys talking around you, probably annoying the rest of the passengers on the flight more than they intended.

You end up in that half awake-half asleep state while on his shoulder, the sounds of the rest of the guys fading in and out as you did. You could feel Jake occasionally kissing the top of your head, resting his on yours in an effort to go to sleep like you were. Both of you were woken up by the sound of the flight attendant coming through with food, the long flight warranting a hot meal, you and Jake being handed something different than the rest of the people around you.

“What is it?” you whisper to him once the flight attendant has passed by you.

“None of the free meals looked good so I got us something different,” he says, taking a bite of what looked like chicken covered in some sort of sauce.

“We could have just done the free meal so you wouldn’t be paying for me again,” you mumble, a little annoyed that he didn’t even ask when paying for food made things awkward earlier that morning.

You sit there in silence, eating the food that Jake bought you. Honestly, it was airplane food, not something that you had even wanted in the first place but you couldn’t let it go to waste now.

“I think I’m gonna go sit with Charlie,” Jake says, getting up without saying another word once the food is gone, leaving you to sit there by yourself with the other people in the row.

You try to find something to watch on the screen in front of you, only to be interrupted by Matt appearing and Jake’s seat, startling you as you rip out the headphones you had on while the first movie available was starting to play. “Your boy just kicked me out of my seat by sitting on top of me.”

You can’t help but laugh, picturing the other passengers' reactions around then as the grown men that were Jake and his teammates acted like absolute children. “I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he did that or that fact that I’m not shocked that he did that.” You watch him with Charlie, your smile fading as his grows.

“Hey, what’s up?” Matt asks, pulling your attention away from Jake.

“Same argument that we haven’t really fought over yet.” Matt was the only one on the team that knew about the seemingly never-ending awkwardness that surrounded you and Jake when it came to money. “It’s not getting worse, but it’s more frequent. I’m just worried we’re gonna end up blowing up at each other and losing each other in the process,” you tell him, fixating on the screen in front of you.

You hear him exhale, looking over to see a sad look on his face. A single lock of hair falls down in front of his forehead, moving along with the rest of his head, “Couples fight. I don’t want to tell you that you should have this argument this weekend, but you have to talk about it. And I mean really talk about it, not just the vague undertones you two constantly have dancing around the subject.”

You stare at him, slightly confused at how something like that came out of him, “I don’t like how you said that so eloquently,” you laugh, Matt throwing his head back to join you.

“But you know I’m right,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” you huff, waving him off.

Without another word, he hands you his other earbud, starting a movie on his screen that would hopefully last the rest of the flight. You rest your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the screen, picturing Jake in his place.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you must have at some point because the next thing you know, the movie is over, the plane is about to land, and Matt is trying to get you off his shoulder so he can get back to his seat. “Hey, Y/N,” he whispers, nudging his shoulder gently. “Jake’s coming back,” he says, acting as if he didn’t want to get caught with you asleep next to him.

“Hi,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes as he plops back down in his seat, him kissing your cheek as you now struggle to stay awake. “It’s like, the middle of the night now, isn’t it?” you ask him, having no idea the time difference between Boston and where you were.

“I think it’s like 10 pm. I didn’t realize I was dating an old woman,” he jokes, pulling a laugh from you.

“You wear me out, babe,” you say, everyone getting up from their seats, the boys making more noise than anyone on the plane as people anxiously waited to get off.

“And you keep me young,” he says, giving you a quick peck before handing you your bag.

You hear someone groan behind you, turning to see Matt standing there already waiting for the two of you to move out of his way. “I’m not going to hang out with you if you’re like this the entire trip” he teases.

You can’t help but scoff, playing into the teasing nature of his comment. “Sorry, bubs, you’re the only one who didn’t bring a date so that makes you our third wheel.”

“I could third wheel any of the guys here and you know that,” he tries to defend himself as Jake grabs your hand and starts to pull you off the plane.

“That’s a weird thing to brag about,” you tell him, the three of you walking in a line to go get your bags, you and Matt carrying a conversation while Jake stands off to the side, not paying attention to the movement of the unfamiliar airport around him.

Everyone waits outside for whatever transportation Patrice had arranged to the hotel, still unsure how he swung any of the details he did. The guys had way too much energy considering how many hours they spent cooped up on a plane. You were exhausted, the coffee practically gone from your system as you tried to convince Jake to just go back to the hotel room with you and spend the night in. “Please?” you beg him, draping yourself on his arm as he waited to get your room keys.

“But the guys want to explore the city,” he whines, jutting his lip out to you.

“I have no more coffee in me,” you whine back. He pouts at you, contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to try to convince you to stay in or go explore with the guys. “I will do anything you want.”

He raises his eyebrows, pulling you close to him, “Anything?” he asks, forgetting the guys surrounding you as he kisses you, his grip around your waist tightening as his teammates start teasing the two of you.

“Hey, JD! Save that for the bedroom!” Matt chirps, your face turning bright red at his words.

“Ah, fuck off and let me love her,” he says, his forehead against yours. “I think I like the sound of the bedroom.”

You ignore the chirps from the boys as he kisses you again, the heat in your cheeks not subsiding until the two of you get to your room. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out with the guys? Apparently, the nightlife is supposed to be awesome in the city,” Jake says, flopping down on the bed. You had been there all of two seconds, and he was already starfished on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

You sigh, sitting down next to him. “I told you I don’t want to go out,” you repeat, a little more annoyed than you intended to sound. “I’m tired, and when we go out, we’re going to end up spending more money and-” you stop, cutting yourself off as Jake sits up.

“Hey,” he says, taking your hands in his, “I told you I would pay for you. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. To me it is. I don’t need you to keep paying for me for everything. I don’t want you to.”

“What’s the big deal?”

Were you really about to have the fight you and Matt talked about on the plane in your hotel room? “Don’t you get it? You have so much money while I’m constantly struggling to make ends meet because of fucking loans. Do you know what it’s like to be a grown adult and live off someone else's money, the constant looks from people when I talk about you that say they think I’m just dating you for your money? That unless you’re home and go grocery shopping for us, I have to choose between food and gas until you get back? All I am is a fucking burden.”

“What, you think I don’t know about all of that? Why do you think I pay for you? So you don’t have to worry about food and gas,” he says, getting up.

“And I hate that you do that!” you snap, “That you feel like you have to. It’s like a slap in the face that I can never pay for anything and you have to pay for everything.”

“So what do you want me to do? Stand by and watch you struggle when I have the means to help you?” The volume of his voice matched yours, hearing doors in the hallway opening and closing, praying that it wasn’t other guests trying to figure out what room the screaming match was coming from.

“I don’t mind if you help out once in a while when I really need it but it’s stuff like the second round of Dunkin’ when I could barely get the first, the meal on the airplane when they give out free ones, or when you keep asking to go out, knowing that we’re going to spend money after I told you no.” Jake rolls his eyes, pushing past you and out the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going out with the guys. You want something, you can get it yourself, see if I care,” he hisses, leaving you standing there with the door propped open by your foot, watching him walk away. Matt gets off the elevator when he tries to get on, saying something you can’t make out when the elevator door closes.

“What the hell happened?” Matt asks, looking between you and the elevator.

You shake your head, trying to hold back the tears that were forming, knowing that there were other people in the hallway that had just witnessed the end of whatever that was. “Remember the fight you said we would have? We just had it,” you tell him, flopping down on your bed with your hands over your face. You let out a long groan, feeling the weight of Matt’s body sink the corner of the mattress down. You knew he was giving you that sympathetic look that was going to make you more upset, feeding into your already upset nature just that much more.

“What happened?” Matt repeats.

“We just finally snapped. God, of all places to have a stupid fight like this, we have at the night before your teammate is supposed to get married. I mean, fuck, we’re in Barcelona, for god's sake and you and I are here watching me mope instead of exploring like we should be.”

“Well, who says we can’t?”

“My bank account.”

Matt pries your hands off your face, forcing you to sit up despite you clearly not wanting to. “There’s so much to do in Barcelona at night that doesn’t involve spending money. We can find the guys no problem, probably doing something free.”

“And how do you expect we do that?” you ask him as he tries to drag you off the bed, grabbing the room key on the way out the door.

Matt waves his phone in the air, a smug look on his face. “I have the location of everyone on the team, past and present, on Find My Friends.”

You hesitate for a minute, your wallet and bag sitting right there by the door for you to grab to go join your boyfriend and his teammates and try to enjoy the night despite the fight you just had. “Matt,” you try to protest, your eyes darting back and forth between him and your bag. You didn’t want to worry about Jake on the night out, but you knew you couldn’t be spending a lot of money. You had been out with the guys too many times before when Jake promised they wouldn’t be big spenders, only to go home and have to worry about how you were going to survive to the next paycheck.

“If you want anything then I’ll pay for it and you pay me back with food or something. Y/N, Jake is wandering Barcelona with Charlie right now, probably just as upset as you are,” he tries to reason with you. “There’s no point in sitting here alone in your hotel room when you’re in a city that you’ve been talking about visiting for as long as I’ve known you.”

You let out a groan, knowing that he was right. “I can’t stand you,” you mumble, grabbing your bag and heading out the door with him.

Matt had his phone pulled out, trying to navigate the city based on a little dot that showed your boyfriend’s location. You had no idea where you were going, and, to be honest, you weren’t sure that Matt had any idea either. You had never been in a situation where the two of you had to wander through unfamiliar territory before, but something told you it was going to be a while before he figured out how to get to the rest of the guys.

“Matt, this is useless. We’ve been walking around for over an hour already,” you tell him, sitting down on the bench that was just off the path you had been taking.

“It hasn’t been an hour, you’re being dramatic.”

Matt sits down next to you as you pull out your phone. “We left the room at 10 pm. It’s 11. That’s an hour,” you snap at him, clearly hating that you can’t find them. “I just want to see Jake,” you mutter.

“Have either of you calmed down enough to have an actual conversation with each other? You know, not a screaming match?” Matt asks you, watching the small dots that represented his teammates move around his phone screen. “If you want to try to figure out your way around here, when neither of us speaks the language to ask for directions, we can. If not, we go back to the hotel.”

You stare at his phone, seeing JD, CM, TF, two JS’s, and a DP altogether, somewhere off the road where neither of you were able to figure out how to get to them. You shake your head, thinking about Matt’s words: you weren’t sure you were cooled off enough to talk to Jake rationally, and you had a feeling he was still the same. “Let’s just find our way back to the hotel,” you tell him, getting up off the bench.

You look at Matt, the look of sympathy covering his face as he follows you back the way you came. You probably could have easily found Jake and the rest of the guys, working out whatever the hell you needed to before the wedding tomorrow. If you couldn’t work it out, what did that mean for your future, though? If you didn’t live with Jake, you would be struggling way more than you were now, probably living paycheck to paycheck without the luxury of everything Jake did for you.

Were you wrong to be mad that he was trying to help?

The two of you get back to the hotel, the empty lobby eerily echoing with your footsteps on the marble floor. You hadn’t even noticed it before, the hotel you were staying at was probably the nicest one you had ever set foot in. You were tempted to sit on one of the chairs in the lobby, wait there for Jake and the rest of the guys to come back despite the fact that they would probably be drunk off their asses when you saw them.

Matt puts his hand on your arm, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Do you want to stay down here and wait?” he asks you, reading your mind, “Or, do you want to go back to either your room or mine?”

“I don’t want to impose,” you try to protest.

“So, you’d rather go back to an empty room and wallow alone instead of sitting on my bed, eating ice cream, and watching a movie,” he tempts you, raising his eyebrows with his offer.

“I don’t want ice cream.”

Matt scrunches his nose, letting out a laugh. “I never said the ice cream was for you. It’s summer, I can cheat on the nutrition plans a little more right now.”

He manages to pull a laugh from you, the two of you heading up to his room. You plopped yourself on his bed, your hands behind your head while you couldn’t take your mind off Jake. You really didn’t want him to be as miserable as you felt, but part of you also did want that. Was that bad?

You knew you had to set boundaries. You knew you couldn’t live without him, both financially and in life in general.

“You know,” Matt says, pulling you out of your thoughts yet again, “The guys are back here at the hotel. If you wanted to go back to your room, I’m sure you could talk to him now.”

You roll over, your back facing Matt. “I don’t think he would want to talk to me.”

Matt sighs, lying down next to you and staring up at the ceiling. “Like I told you in Boston, Jake loves you more than anything. If I know anything about him, he’s just as miserable as you are, probably back in your room panicking about where you are.”

You turn to him, narrowing your eyes. “This is your way of trying to get me out of here before the ice cream comes and you feel like you have to share with me, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, sitting up to get ready to go. “Oh, of course.”

You head out, opening the door, caught off guard by who was standing there. “Jake?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. “I thought you would be here.” You nod, both of you standing there in an awkward silence as you held the door to Matt’s room open. You didn’t know if you should speak first or wait for Jake to do it, and apparently, he felt the same.

“As much as I love just staring at you two,” Matt breaks the silence. “Would you be able to do this with my door closed? You can be in here, but,” his voice trails off. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever it was you were about to talk about even though he already knew.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell him, letting his room door close behind you as Jake took your hand in his, leading you down the hall to your room.

You don’t say anything until you get into your room, both of you sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” he says, his hand still in yours but unable to look at you.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” you repeat, for lack of better words to say. “We need boundaries. I get that you want to pay for things, but I need you to ask me before you do, especially if it’s something we don’t necessarily need.”

“Ok,” he draws out, trying to figure out how to frame his words. “Would you be ok with asking me for help when you need it? You know I can help you, and it kills me seeing you struggle when I have the means to make this stop.”

“I just want you to ask.”

He smiles at you, raising his hand to cup your face. “I will,” he says, his lips finding yours for a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You spend the rest of the night together, trying to figure out boundaries of what and when Jake can lend you money, what should be paid back, what he doesn’t want back, everything. It was the conversation you should have had years ago, yet never did.

The next morning, you get ready for his teammate's wedding, slipping on the dress, your back towards Jake while he put on his suit. “Can you zip me up?” you ask him while he adjusted his sleeves.

He comes up behind you, his fingers holding the small zipper and slowly pulling it up your back. Jake wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in front of the mirror hung on the wall of the room, his head nestled on your shoulder. “I can’t wait until we get married.”

You laugh, craning your neck to kiss the side of his head. “That’ll be an expensive day, won’t it,” you joke.

“Yeah, maybe. But spending the rest of my life with the girl I love? That’s priceless.”

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 6)

Jemima Jones

Up to some mischief with Johnny boy. Contains a little mistreatment of minors (not by any of the main characters btw)  

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

John rode us to the trapper, keeping a fast pace on his horse that reminded me how much I missed riding. We arrived quickly, and John helped me down from the horse when we slowed to a stop near the stall. The trapper looked between us as we approached, greeting me with a nod.

“Funny to see you with some company,” he noted. I placed the pelts down on his table and unrolled them.

“I've been making friends,” I said a little drily. He inspected the pelts, checking their quality.

“Not your finest work,” he noted.

“The deer? I didn't skin those,” I said, and he glanced up at John. “Not him, neither.”

“My, you really have been making friends. You could teach them a thing or two about skinning.”

“Didn't wanna be a smart ass,” I shrugged and the trapper laughed.

“I'll give you ten dollars for the lot.”

“Sure,” I nodded.

“You ain't gonna haggle?” John asked.

“I've haggled with this feller so much he don't even need it no more, that's a good price.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged.

I took the money, pocketed it, and said my goodbyes before mounting John's horse again. He rode us back onto the track, keeping to a trot.

“Where to next, Valentine?”

“If it ain't too much to ask,” I replied.

“Oh it's pushing it, but I'll let you off,” he said, his tone light and jovial. He picked up the pace to a gallop, a longer ride ahead of us than the one down. “Though, I ain't sure what you're planning on buying with ten dollars.”

“It'll probably stretch to a pair of pants. A blouse if I'm lucky.”

“Pants?” John questioned.

“More important than a pretty frock, I reckon. Cheaper too. If I'm gonna be working and hunting more, the pants'll come in handy,” I explained with a shrug. He nodded in understanding.

“I was speaking to Dutch the other day about what sorts of jobs we could get you in on.”

“Yeah? I don't wanna shoot nobody,” I said, right off the bat.

“Didn't think you would. But I was thinking, you did a pretty good job of bringing me into that ambush the other day. Reckon we might be able to flip that on its head, use some of your performative skills.”

“I weren't performing anything, John. I thought I was gonna die,” I deadpanned.

“I know. And I ain't suggesting we use you as bait like those other fools did, either. A distraction, though. You got that quiet, vulnerable thing going for you–”

“You think I look vulnerable?” I balked, staring at the back of his head with my face screwed up.

“Now I know you a little better, no. But I think you could pull it off; you're young, quiet, polite, you could bend all that to your favour.”

“And do what exactly?”

“Say we take a bank, right? You could distract the tellers, easy, while we go in and take control of the place. And they wouldn't even have to know you were in on it, you're just an innocent little thing tryin'a open an account, or, get a hold of some misplaced funds.”

“A bank. Gosh, John, all I've robbed is drunkards in saloons and the occasional empty homestead.”

“Alright, we start off smaller then, we'll figure something out.”

“I'm willing to try,” I nodded.

“That'll make Dutch happy.”

“And if I do all this; help you lot make money, you'll help me get my horse back?” I asked.

“Of course, we'll do our best,” he glanced over his shoulder at me and smiled.

“And then I can leave and get back to what I was doing before, and Dutch won't have to worry about me squealing on you 'cause I'll be incriminated too,” I thought aloud and John chuckled.

“I suppose that's right. That's if you even wanna leave at that point.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I mean this life gets pretty addictive, hard to get out of. And Dutch, the community he's built with all of us? Well, it's nice knowing you've got people who'll have your back.”

“I don't know. I think I'm better off on my own.”

“Alright, I ain't gonna try and change your mind,” he said, and we rode in silence the rest of the way to Valentine.

John accompanied me to the general store, where I was able to purchase a pair of men's work jeans and a belt to keep them up, since they were a little loose around the waist. John was carrying them in his satchel for me. I couldn't afford a top, so I'd have to keep borrowing the girls’ for the time being, but it was a start. A step back towards independence.

John wanted to run an errand before we headed back, to check to see if the group had received any mail. We stopped by the station and I waited outside for him, sitting on a bench, people watching. There was a woman nearby – dressed in mint green with her blonde hair styled in an immaculate updo – obviously going on a trip judging by the large case sat by her feet. She was causing a scene, yelling at the top of her lungs to the young boy she was with. He must've been about ten, not very old at all, and his case had opened up, spilling his clothes all over the floor. I hadn't seen it happen but I doubted it was his fault at all, but you'd think he'd committed murder with the way she was hollering at him. I watched in uncomfortable silence as he tried to gather it all up again, flushing with humiliation.

I jumped when John came out to meet me, a letter in hand.

“Letter for Arthur,” he said, inspecting it. “I think it's from Mary, judging by the handwriting.”

“Mary?” I questioned. He looked over his shoulder, distracted by the screaming woman for a moment.

“Last I heard she'd got married. She's an old girlfriend of his,” he told me. I felt an unnecessary amount of pressure to keep my expression as neutral as possible.

A loud snapping sound echoed across the decking, and John and I looked towards it. The kid was sprawled out, clutching his cheek. I covered my mouth, looking up at John who was analysing the situation, looking between the boy, the woman, her case. He turned back to me.

“You wanted some new clothes,” he said under his breath. “Why don't you go talk to her? I'll get you some; she looks about your size.”  

My heart pounded at the prospect but I found myself nodding. I cleared my throat and rose to my feet, brushing out the creases in my dress as I made my way over to her, thinking over what I could say. My mind was drawing a blank, I hoped to God something would come out of my mouth when I reached her, and I could improvise my way through it.

“Hello, ma'am?” I said, smiling nervously at her. She looked up at me from her boy, eyes narrowed and expression sour. The kid went back to gathering his things

“Can I help you?” She hissed.

“I was wondering if I could help you, actually,” I told her. “You see, you look like a woman of means, that dress of yours is mighty pretty. I don't s'pose you're looking for a servant girl at all? I'm looking for work and I have a lot of experience, worked for a number of high standing folk.”

“A servant girl?” She scoffed, turning to face me head on, simultaneously putting her back to her baggage. The boy had his back to it too as he knelt on the floor; I saw John strolling by from the corner of my eye, glancing around.

It was pretty quiet on this side of the station, nobody was close enough to really be paying any attention, John just had to get the timing right and I trusted him to do it.

“Yes, could I be of assistance? I can cook, clean, sew… do childcare.” I added, my voice going up at the end. Her expression shifted to one of consideration.

“You any good at tending to horses, too? Our stable boy got sick and died not long ago,” she said without any softening of her words. It shocked me how easily she just said that, like he wasn't even a person at all.

“Oh, of course. That was actually a huge part of my last job.”

“And why'd you lose it? You gotta be looking for work for some reason.”

“My previous employer lost his fortune, he was a heavy gambler. He couldn't keep me,” I explained, shaking my head sadly.

I saw John again, walking behind the woman. As casually as anything he just dipped down and picked up the case, strolling on by around the corner where his horse was hitched. A flutter of exhilaration appeared in my tummy when she didn't even glance back.  

“Well,” the woman said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a pencil and a small diary. She scribbled something down before tearing out the page, offering it to me. “You drop in at this address soon and we can talk more.”

“Thank you!” I beamed at her, clutching her hand as I took the note, squeezing it in appreciation. “Jemima Jones, it's a pleasure,” I lied, spewing out the first name to automatically roll off of my tongue.

“Mrs. Schwartz. Don't get your hopes up, you have to meet my husband, first,” she told me and I nodded.

“Of course. I will let you get on, then, and I'll see you soon,” I nodded and gave her a little bow before all but skipping off. She watched me leave, an odd look on her face, but I was gone in seconds. I stuffed the note down into my chemise, saving it for later.

John was sat on his horse, ready and waiting with the case on his lap. “Nice work,” he grinned at me.

“You too!”

He held his hand out and helped me up, then handed me the case. "Hold onto me, and don't be shy, I know you've only got one hand with that case. I don't wanna be losing either of you.”

I shuffled closer to him, wrapping my free arm firmly around his midriff; then he set off. He moved quickly, taking off straight into a gallop to get away from the area as quickly as possible, we probably only had about thirty seconds before the woman would notice her baggage was gone and luckily we were out of there before we heard anything to suggest she had.

I was grinning the whole way back, thoroughly exhilarated by the whole thing. I'd robbed a handful of people but none of them were as exciting as that; working with a partner, getting out clean, robbing from someone I could say probably deserved it. It had been fun.

We arrived back at the camp and Karen was keeping guard, looking between us and at the way I was pinned so close to John. She cocked a brow.

“We’ve been busy today!” I told her.

“You have, huh?” There was an edge to her tone and she made even more of a point of looking back and forth between us. I rolled my eyes and jumped down from the horse as soon as it came to a stop. I held the case up.

“We relieved some sour faced hag of this. I think Mary-Beth'll be pleased; she can have her clothes back,”

“Ooh, I wonder what else is in there,” she said.

“Y’all can do what you please with the rest of it, I'm just interested in some new clothes.”

John and I headed into camp, placing the case down on the table near Dutch's tent. He noticed us and immediately headed over, smoking a cigar. There was a padlock keeping the luggage secure and John pulled something out of his pocket, using it to try and jimmy it open.

“What's this?” Dutch asked when he reached us.

“The new girl's first job,” John explained. “We saw this nasty piece of work slapping her kid around in the middle of the station, thought we'd take the opportunity to get some new clothes for her.”

John got the lock open and revealed what was inside the case. Laying on top was one of those big fancy hats, he moved it out of the way and there was a high end dress to match underneath it. When he moved that, I was relieved to see some more every day clothes below. I reached in and pulled out a plain, peach coloured skirt; it felt pretty high quality and there was a fair amount of fabric in it, which would come in useful when riding horseback. I draped it over my arm and pulled out a cotton blouse with fine lace running down either side of the buttons down the centre. It was far prettier than anything I'd owned before but it wasn't too elaborate that I'd feel silly wearing it.

“We can sell some of this,” Dutch said, lifting up the hat. “Should be worth something.”

“There's jewellery too,” I told him, pulling out a little drawstring bag that felt heavy. I handed it to him and he grinned.

“Very nice. You did good. What was your method of acquiring this?” He asked.

“I distracted her, posing as a servant girl looking for work, and John picked it up and walked off with it, just like that,” I explained excitably.

“Well done, you two! My dear, you have what you'd like from in here and leave the rest by my tent. You might as well keep the case, too,” he patted the top of my arm and gave me an appreciative nod before turning on his heel.

“I’d call that a job well done,” John grinned at me, and I mirrored his expression. “Nice to see you're pleased, too, I think this is the first time I've seen you smile.”

“It's been fun! Exciting. Thank you, John.”

“And thank you,” he held his hand out to me and I shook it firmly.

Karen was behind us, watching the whole thing with an unreadable expression. I smiled at her and she smiled back, turning away, concentrating on her guard duties.

John handed me the things I'd bought from his satchel. “I'm gonna go put Arthur's letter in his tent, leave you to it. Good work today, I hope we can bring you in on more jobs, if you like.”

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

He nodded, tipping his hat before heading off.

I finished going through the case and decided to keep a few things; a couple of skirts and blouses, some bloomers and camisoles, a chemise, two jackets, one of which would be warm enough in cold weather. I had a decent wardrobe coming along and I neatly packed it all into the case with my new pants. I'd acquired a small leather satchel, too, that'd come in handy.

There was quite a haul of decent stuff I wasn't keeping, lots of elaborate clothing and jewellery, as well as some shoes that looked brand new but were far too impractical for me to consider keeping. I was lucky in the sense that my kidnappers had at least left my boots on my feet, anyway. I left all of the stuff near Dutch's tent like he'd asked me to, and then headed off to change into my new clothes.

[mayatheamazon]

ATTENTION: DO NOT ADD LIZLEZLIZLEZ ON SNAPCHAT!!!!!!!

“She” is actually a male hacker posing as a 19 year old girl’s private Snapchat under the name Lizette. Avoid VALERIE HOLLIDAY as well.

Sincerely, a victim.

so yesterday morning this girl on snap (super pretty, was going to meet up with her in a couple days) wanted to confirm we were meeting.

I said that yes I believe I can convince my parents to go out that day and then she goes off on me, acting as if I was blowing her off when it was the opposite?

she goes on to slut shame me for having 10 partners throughout my life, get pissed that my upper-middle-class self is “so rich and priveleged,” and discredits my talking about working my ass off as a host in a busy restaurant to pay off my student loans as “an easy job, taking the jobs from those who need it, and being so rich” that I “deserve to be targeted.” And the vacation pics I put on my snapchat story because my friends like to see my life was “flexing my wealth.” Bitch tf. I wear cheap clothes and don’t even rly shop ever. I love to give back and I mind my own fucking business. If anything I use my privelege for good and give my friends clothes when they really need it. I never ask people for anything in return. Even if I’m the friend who drives around all the time paying her own gas and car expenses.

I agreed that my family was more fortunate but only because they started from the bottom, survived the 2008 housing crisis BARELY but only because they saved up wisely and had rainy day funds, and still give back. My dad is a small business owner who gives jobs, not takes them. And I’ve always been raised to not be a spoiled brat, to always give back, and to check my privelege.

I’m literally 18 and just graduated and everyone in Orange County has some wealth but obviously when I move out it’s going to be with my own money. I will Be budgeting and eating ramen and having to work multiple jobs but I will do it and not give up on my passions. I’ll be the burnt out gen z-Er that I already am. I don’t lay around.

My days are always filled with me being extremely productive.

Always on my feet. Being anything but lazy.

So for her to call me a spoiled brat when she didn’t even know me....

Idek. I know of my privelege as an American teen who has a car, has a job. I feel rich because I have a good supportive family, a roof over my head, and an open heart. That’s what matters to me most. Of course I’m tucking rich compared to countries with hella inflation and poverty and severe class separation.

The girl starts screenshotting and saving all the private pics and videos I naïvely sent her. Then, while still slut-shaming me, verbally abusing me, and all that shit, she DEMANDS $150 from my own minimum wage paycheck or else she sends my nudes to my parents and managers at work.

She tells me the street I live on too. Calls me stupid. Says that she is actually a man in India who hacks and targets “rich girls” (meaning the girl I was seeing was his previous victim!!!!) to “redistribute wealth”

like some edgelord guy who’s read V for Vendetta or Fight Club and relates to the problematic characters without knowing that OH, Robin Hood’s equivalent in the modern day would be actually targeting rich big business owners who use their privelege to overwork and underpay their employees, or maybe the Hollywood men who use their wealthy white male privelege that we hear about in the #MeToo movement.

Instead of being chaotic good, he’s acted pretty sexist and chaotic evil if you ask me.

Fuck off, buddy. So I sent the money. Was friendly the whole time besides saying the hacker better leave me alone after this, and calling him a dipshit. Asked what food he was buying with it. Said hummus. I joked with the hacker that “I fucking love hummus”. Tried to be a good sport about all of this. Even on the Venmo I said “have a good day XX” (ok that might be sarcasm but DUDE my nude was his profile pic so I can afford to be salty). He’s probably going to use “Valerie Holliday” to catfish as me because that was the Venmo name.

Maybe you can say I’m a “priveleged girl who’s only for wealth redistribution/caste separation reduction if it doesn’t affect her” but the fact that in comparison to the people in my area that is NOT Beverley Hills, I’m not rly that rich??? and the victims of this guys actions should never just be victim blamed?

So guys. I love Bella Thorne. I love the women and men who’ve had to engage with hackers like this who steal their private info and make them feel powerless. Now I’m one of the victims but I don’t just want to be a victim.

I laughed at this and didn’t cry. You can say I took a little breather from my stizz to just clear my overthinking mind and take this as a lesson from the universe. I am pretty trusting of people—too much sometimes—and I’m just grateful I didn’t get hurt and that it wasn’t more $ from my bank account so I can still repay my dad for graciously helping me financially now and again.

I’m glad I didn’t budge on my own opinion of myself and know that I’m not just a spoiled brat. What separates those from me, is that idgaf if I have to do real work like cleaning my dog’s shit, and I am extremely aware of tons of problems in society. Fast fashion is something that I really wish to help stop in the future. So that factories can stop child labor in countries like India, where the hacker was from.

It’s sad because I asked the hacker why he does this besides “redistributing wealth” like the chad he is and he said “what moral compass?” Obviously I’ll never know what this guy has went through but I know that I’m getting money by working.

I mean. Maybe he’s the spoiled brat, typing some hacker codes to bamboozle money from teenage girls he thinks are so “rich” and “evil.”

I’m calling Snapchat soon but I’ve been busy at work and got severe pinkeye this morning but enough is enough.

We gotta stick up for those who’ve been through this shit. It’s SUPER LAME.

Here are the pics of the chat btw (1-5) and Valerie Holliday’s Venmo with my pic on it on 6 of 6. I mean...cool hacker flex. I said he did good at being a hacker but damn he’s an awful human.

STAY SAFE GUYS.

[sarcastic-dogood]

Murven text post AU where Raven and Roan are dating and Murphy schemes to break them up because HE SAW HER FIRST AND THAT ICE NATION BASTARD HAD NO RIGHT TO ASK HER ON A DATE BEFORE HE DID! 😉

The Island of Misfit Delinquents

10:09 am

Caw Caw Little Birdy: WHO’S GOT TWO THUMBS, A SEXY RED DRESS, AND A HOT DATE WITH ROAN AZGEDA TONIGHT?!?!?!?!?!

Murph-Man: Your mom?

Caw Caw Little Birdy: THIS GIRL

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Dammit Murphy

Caw Caw Little Birdy: You fun-sucking, last-piece-of-pizza snatcher, lotioned foot slipping around in a sock, uncouth garbage human, son of a bitch

Blake 1: You’ve gotten real creative with your insults lately

Blake 2: Rey just shit on your entire life son

Commander Clarke: #loveofmylife

Blake 1: #rude

Caw Caw Little Birdy: ANYWAY

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Roan’s got it all planned out He’s picking me up at seven and we’re going to a fancy dinner and a show. There’s also talk about getting coffee as we leisurely stroll back to my apartment under the light of a thousand brilliant stars, conversing about interesting topics 

Murph-Man: Roan Azgeda: A modern day Jane Austen

Blake 2: Calm yo tits, Mr. Darcy

Commander Clarke: Murphy is SUCH a Darcy

Murphy-Man: Wut

Blake 1: Clarke is Jane Bennet and I’m Mr. Bingley

Blake 2: I’ve always wanted to be a snotty society lady

Blake 2: Count me in as Caroline Bingley 

Murph-Man: I actually hate you all????

Caw Caw Little Birdy: I’M LIZZIE BENNET

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Watch me read all the books and slay men’s hearts with a slightly haughty attitude

Caw Caw Little Birdy: I deserve more than to be married off to a rich man I don’t love to save my father’s estate 

Commander Clakre: ^^^ Same

Blake 2: ^^^ My new Instagram bio 

Blake 1 + Murph-Man

10:40 am

Blake 1: So……

Blake 1: How you doing with all this?

Blake 1: And by this, I mean Raven and Roan

Blake 1: And by Raven and Roan I, of course, mean them dating 

Blake 1: Murphy?

Murph-Man: Sorry I can’t guzzle vodka and text at the same time

Blake 1: It’s not even noon dude

Murph-Man: Then I’ll put the vodka in some orange juice

Murph-Man: Make some toast

Murph-Man: Call it brunch

Murph-Man: Like a middle-aged rich white woman

Blake 1: Buddy…… no

The Island of Misfit Delinquents

12:34 pm

Caw Caw Little Birdy: When you actually care about how this date will go so you shave your legs

Blake 1: Wow, when should we expect to receive the invitations to your wedding?

Murph-Man: Too much work. Just wear sweatpants and call it done

Commander Clarke: Darcy strikes again

Misson imPOSSIBLE 

2:15 pm

Blake 2 added King Azgeda to the group chat

Blake 2: Plan is working perfectly

Blake 2: Or WAS

Commander Clarke: Don’t be passive aggressive to my boyfriend 

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Yeah just be flat out aggressive towards him

Blake 1: Well maybe next time we try and secretly try and set up our friends, yOU GUYS WON’T BASE THE PLAN AROUND ME TRYING TO COMFORT PEOPLE

King Azgeda: Our first mistake

Blake 1: Roan you absolute winter coat made out of Wookie fur

Blake 1: Fight me 

King Azgeda: With pleasure

Blake 2: #TeamRoan

Commander Clarke: (I-think-tf-not-you-trickass-bitch.jpeg)

 Caw Caw Little Birdy: FOCUS YOU BUNCH OF MEME DUNCES 

Caw Caw Little Birdy: We WANT Murphy to come and try to stop the date. Not be drunk off his ass

Blake 1: Before we all start yelling at me again, I DID fix things

Blake 1: Miller is covering Murphy’s shift at the precinct tonight. Jasper and Monty are on their way with coffee and the world’s greasiest burgers to sober Murphy up

Blake 2: Then Bell and I will go over right around the time Roan picks Raven up and trick Murphy into sabotaging the date

King Azgeda: And double check him for weapons before he leaves for said sabotage 

King Azgeda: That’s important 

The Island of Misfit Delinquents

6:43 pm

Caw Caw Little Birdy: I look bomb if I do say so myself

Blake 2: Yeahhhhhhhhhh Rey

Blake 2: Get. Some. ;) 

Commander Clarke: Bow-chicka-bow-wow

Murphy-Man: Bow-chicka-bow-wow?

Murph-Man: My eyes have been sinned upon

Commander Clarke: SEND A PIC OF YOUR DRESS

Caw Caw Little Birdy: (Date-Night.jpeg)

Blake 1: Our little girl is all grown up

Commander Clarke: 21 years of sleepless nights, blood, sweat and tears… All for this moment

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Thanks mom and dad

Murph-Man: You look really really pretty Rey 

Mission imPOSSIBLE

8:09 pm

King Azgeda: We should have picked a restaurant that served an actual meal

Caw Caw Little Birdy: What even are these portions

Caw Caw Little Birdy: My name is a bird, but I do NOT eat like one

Blake 2: Murphy has left Casa De La Sadness and is on the move

Blake 2: I repeat, on the MOVE

Blake 1: dfsjghorejgirjgjbfdk 

Blake 1: I FORGOT TO TAKE THE BASEBALL BAT OUT OF HIS CAR

Caw Caw Little Birdy: FAILamy Blake 

Murph-Man + Nathan Miller

8:58

Murph-Man: Hey man what beat are you patrolling tonight?

Nathan Miller: The usual 

Murph-Man: That’s good

Nathan Miller: These vague texts aren’t tho

Murph-Man: If you want to pass a polygraph, you drive really slow to the Dropship Theater and you do NOT look closely at the face of the man with the baseball bat when that call comes out

Nathan Miller: WTF 

Mission imPOSSIBLE

9:24 pm

Commander Clarke: I’m stationed at the coffee shop across from the theater

Commander Clarke: Also, this coffee tastes like piss so it’s a good thing this whole date is fake because if I were Raven and Roan bought me coffee from this place?

Commander Clarke: I’d dump it all over that nice-ass suit and there would be NO second date

King Azgeda: wow ok

Blake 1: I’m in love?????

Blake 2: Murphy’s on the move

Blake 2: And by move, I mean he iS HAULING ASS WITH A BASEBALL BAT SHHHHIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTT

Blake 1: I’m stuck in traffic what’s happening !!!!!!!!!?

Commander Clarke: Roan looks like a gallant European prince 

Commander Clarke: Murphy looks like a disheveled…. Well just like straight up disheveled in a big old grandpa sweater and dark jeans

Blake 2: Roan snatched that bat from Murphy right quick

Blake 1: Catch them hands too lmao

Blake 2: You right lols

Commander Clarke: We’re like all sitting together watching this right now? And we’re texting each other?

King Azgeda: Raven dragged Murphy back around to the parking lot so they could scream at each other in private. And make out

King Azgeda: (my-longest-yeah-boi-ever.jpeg)

Blake 2: You’ve done well young grasshopper 

Blake 1: Yeah come across the street and I’ll buy you a cup of coffee as a thank you 

King Azgeda: The same coffee your girlfriend said tasted like piss?

Blake 1: That’d be the one

The Island of Misfit Delinquetns 

11:02 pm

Caw Caw Little Birdy: (We-Cute-AND-an-Offical-Couple.jpeg)

Blake 1: Murphy flipping the camera off as you guys kiss is everything I expected your relationship to be 

Blake 2: AWWWWWWW!!!!! TOGETHER AT LAST

Blake 2: My skin is clear, my bank account is full, an angel delicately plays the harp in the background 

Commander Clarke: YOU GUYS CAN DOUBLE DATE WITH ME AND BELL

Murph-Man: Pass

Blake 1: Pass

Caw Caw Little Birdy: Sometimes I’m jealous over how in sync you guys are

Blake 2: *added King Azgeda to Island of Misfit Delinquents*

King Azgeda: Happy for you guys!

Murph-Man: I could have done without the emotional trauma tho tbh

Murph-Man: I’m only 178 pounds of delicate pale skin and sarcasm

Murph-Man: I’m fragile

Caw Caw Little Birdy: It was the only way

Blake 2: We knew your anger would win over your pride

King Azgeda: Why confess your feelings when you can try and beat the fake boyfriend with a baseball bat and hope your point gets across as you shatter the competitions knees?

Blake 2: I would have intervened before he shattered your knees

King Azgeda: Thanks babe

Blake 2: NVWIPVNHPIVHFVNFUGFNROKAETR

Commander Clarke: YOOOOOOOOOOOO 

Caw Caw Little Birdy: I KNEW WE FORGOT SOMETHING

Caw Caw Little Birdy: It was supposed to go- Go on Fake date, Murphy confesses his feelings (finally) and Octavia somehow breaks the news to her brother that she’s daTING ROAN

Blake 2: I was going to buy him a history book and get him about three glasses of fancy wine deep before I told him

Blake 2: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

King Azgeda: …….. well this is awkward

Blake 1: YOU OVERGROWN SCRUFFY LOOKIN, FUR COAT WEARING, WANNABE WARRIOR PRINCE OF SOME APOCALYPTIC UNIVERSE 

Blake 1: I WILL FUCK YOU UP

Commander Clarke: Guys you gotta break stuff to him gently he has the heart of an 87-year-old man

Caw Caw Little Birdy: He’s gonna go BOOM

Blake 1: DON’T TOUCH MY SISTER

Murph-Man: I’d actually like to retract my earlier statement about double dates and propose a TRIPPLE date instead 

Murph-Man: I think that would be good for our friend group 

[my-abibliophobia]

Favorite Leverage TV Quotes

(After the team finishes their first mission and gives the money away to a hospital) Nate: Anyone who wants to walk away can go right now. (Dramatic pause) Eliot: One more... Hardison: Maybe two...

Nate: (climbing into his new Tesla roadster) Just because you're the good guys now, doesn't mean you can't have a little fun along the way.

Sophie: I never thought I'd say this. Ever. But that is too much money to steal!  

Alec: I got to get back to the office. I just remembered something. Parker: What? Alec: I just remembered gravity...and the squishiness of all my manly bits. Parker: I designed this rig myself. The line is carbon-fiber, five-point harness, weight support here, here, here, auto-breaking resistance on the main pulley back here. Alec: Okay, okay, cool, so it's tested? Parker: Not yet. Alec: Not ye..? When the hell were you going to test it? Parker: (pushes Alec off the roof) Big baby.  

Parker: They changed the lock. Alec: Just do what you do. I mean, whatever, what do you need?(Parker produces a plastic explosive) Alec: No. Mm-mm. Stop all that playin'. Mm-mm. Hell, no. (runs for cover)  

Eliot: The tall one, the way he used a knife, Ex-Marine, probably force recon. Alec: You IDed the guy off his knife-fighting style? Eliot: It's a very distinctive style.

Eliot: 5.56 NATO rounds, mixed in with some 9-mils from the submachine guns. Insurgents would have used AK-47 with 7.62 ammo. Has more of a crack. Contractor shot 'em up alright. Parker: (impressed) You IDed the weapon from the gunshot sound? Eliot: It has a very distinctive sound.  

(on their money from their first job)Parker: I put all that money in a Swiss bank account. Eliot: Millions of dollars and you didn't buy anything? Parker: I don't like stuff. I like money. Sophie: I bought a little retirement home in Ireland... and Dubai... and Tokyo. Parker: What about you? Eliot: Yeah, I'm not about to tell two known thieves what I did with a multi-million dollar payout. Sophie: Don't you trust us? (laughs)

(Parker has "medicated" Grant to help shake him up) Eliot: You gave him speed? Alec: He beat up a priest. (Elliot shrugs)

(While discussing how to "steal a miracle") Hardison: Long as I don't have to do anything immoral. Nate: No not at all. I just need you to figure out how to, you know...fake a miracle. (Eliot chuckles) Hardison: (long pause) We're all going to hell.

Alec: (to Nate) You...you're a Catholic who wants to fake a miracle. I'm pretty sure that puts us in mortal-sin territory. Eliot: So what...now you're religious, too? Alec: No, I'm not denominational. It's just, I never do anything my Nana said "don't do". 

Father Paul: Nate, no more lies! The Vatican's here! You and I both know what that means. Nate: Yeah, break out the grappa. Father Paul: Does my getting defrocked amuse you? Nate: No. Listen, listen, I just...let me explain this to you, okay? I just, this is...in here. (Nate moves toward the Confessional booth) Father Paul: Oh, there's always a loophole with you. (Nate enters the booth) That's my side!

Father Paul: I'll count myself blessed and take my miracle. Nate: Ah, but there was no miracle. Father Paul: Nate, five thieves saved my church.

Nate: (sarcastically) Yeah okay, yeah. Let's go rob Nicki Masconi. A guy who kills people and lives in our city. Yeah, let's do that.

Cheryl: I have been working my butt off on this account. But Steve? No, he's just sitting back, waiting for me to fail so he can swoop in and save the day. I swear, it's like he's a rogue and I'm a mage and we're part of the same guild, but secretly, he's at work with the Alliance to undermine us. Hardison: For the Horde! Cheryl: For the Horde! You play "World of Warcraft"? Hardison: You kidding? Did you get the new expansion pack? Woman, I was up all night. Now, look, I mean, "Burning Crusade" was great, but this new one is mind-blowing. Nate: (over comm) Hardison? You bailed on the job because you were up all night playing a game? (Hardison opens a cupboard to hide himself and talk back) Hardison: (quietly) First off, "game" is hardly adequate, okay?  

Parker: (reciting to Nate things she has found searching the luggage on the plane for a bomb) ...hatbox full of Euros, pouch of blood diamonds, a stolen Stradivarius. (musing) I've never lifted one of those.

Sophie: How did you both know there would be an extra uniform in the bag? Nate: Everyone knows flight attendants are required to carry extra uniforms in case they get called to work unexpectedly. Eliot: Or if something happens to the one that they're already wearing. Sophie: How does everyone know that? Nate: Worked airport security. Eliot: Slept with a flight attendant.  

Parker: (to Hardison) What are you doing? Hardison: Oh, I'm just remote accessing a plane's electrical system from 3000 miles away. You know what? If you were a geek, you would be really turned on by this.

Eliot: (after unsuccessfully trying to wake up the hitman) When I knock people out they tend to stay knocked out.  

Parker: (referring to Nate's behavior) Is it me or is he getting creepier?  

Nate: Somebody find me a brain. Parker: Oh yeah, he's definitely getting creepier.  

Parker: (Crawling through the air duct) Looks like Parker's gonna have to crawl through the air duct again. God forbid anyone else would have to learn how to frickin' crawl on their stomach through a tiny space. It's not rocket science, people. Eliot: (On comm) Parker, you realize that we can still hear you?  

Derrick Clark: No, no cops. If they find out we contacted the police, they'd kill her. Sophie: They're not cops, I promise you. They're friends of mine, you can trust them. Derrick Clark: Why should I trust you? I don't know who you are. Sophie: I'm a thief. Derrick Clark: Okay,...I'm not sure what to do with that!  

Eliot: Let's go, man, you have it? Hardison: No, not yet. (Over comms) Sophie, we need that scene, are you finished with it yet? Sophie: It's in the box on the back of the truck. Hardison: Sophie, seriously Sophie, it was supposed to be a two page scene between Irina and a boy. Sophie: That's still the heart of it. Eliot: The heart of it? There's like ten pages here. You have a stunt? You have special effects? Parker: (takes script) Sister Magda crosses and gets a loaf of bread. Who's sister Magda? (Sophie arrives in full nun garb) Hardison: (To Eliot) Tell me you didn't see that coming.

Hardison: Woah, woah, woah. I'm getting a bunch of calls to the police. What the hell is going on down there? Eliot: I'll tell you what's going on. Parker just stabbed her guy with a fork!

Hardison: Woah, woah. I haven't slept in three days. I had a showdown with two different gangs, who, now, by the way, now know my face. I sat on a bomb. And all this could've been avoided had you gave the man a taco?

Nate: Sophie, how--how do you catch mob guys? Sophie: Uhh...two glasses of Chianti and a story about my grandma in Sicily. Nate: How does the government catch mob guys? Everyone: Taxes!

Leary: I was tricked. I was tricked! It wasn't, it wasn't me. You understand, I... Bonanno: Somebody tricked you into bringing a briefcase full of evidence of your own crime straight to the police? Come on, Mr. Leary. Nobody's that smart.

Eliot: (about Parker) She's dressed that way 'cause she's doing a con. Nate: What, you thought she was dressed like a nun for no reason? Eliot: She's Parker. Nate: Ah, fair enough.

Eliot: That's why the businesses are clean; they're dirty from the inside. Nate: Well, yeah, I mean, if you have a body in the trunk of your car, you're gonna drive under the speed limit, aren't you? Parker: You know, when you're sober, your metaphors get creepier.

Nate: Now if you'll excuse me, I am gonna go call a professional killer who tried to murder me and arrange to meet him in an isolated location.

Room Service Operator: It's chicken-fried steak. Sophie: It's what? Chicken-fried steak? Room Service Operator: Yeah. Sophie: Let me just tell you, meat should never be used as an adjective.  

Nate: Can I get this straight? Okay, you two couldn't rig a gym class and a spelling bee, and you two run into the only FBI agents on the planet that recognize you? Eliot: I gotta be honest with you, I think we broke the kid even more. Sophie: We are the worst fairy godparents in the world.

Nate: Who's that? Hardison: Oh, the kid. Kid's from her first marriage, Widmark. Eliot: I'm sorry what? Widmark? Hardison: Rich people, man.

Parker: Door alarm's got a Takashita 500 with redundant infrared. Window's easier. Alec: The window? The window that's 20 stories up? Parker: Like I said--easier.

Eliot: Hardison, we got a problem. Hardison: What kinda problem? Eliot: They're MRI'ing my pizza and their stance says ex-CIA. Hardison: You can tell somebody worked for the CIA just from how they stand?! Eliot: It's a very distinctive stance! 

Hardison: You were scared to fight a girl. Eliot: She'd mop the floor with you, Hardison Hardison: I don't care. Eliot: Seriously, she actually killed a guy once with a mop. It's a funny story, actually. She broke the mop and took... Hardison: Eliot, Eliot.

Tara: I checked you out, Mr. Ford. Half my sources say you're a vicious thief. The other half claim you're some kind of high-tech vigilante. Nate: I like that. I should put that on my card.

Tara: What are we supposed to do, steal the wake? Nate: Whoa, have some respect--borrow the wake, to save the bar.

Nate: All right, good news, bad news. Tara: Good news? Nate: The mayor's hooked. We're in the pinch. Tara: Bad news? Nate: I think we lost Eliot until the playoffs.

Sophie: Someone explain to me, what the hell is a Steranko? Hardison: Steranko's the toughest security system in the world, in the universe, in the multiverse, whatever. Eliot: How do you not know this? Sophie: I am a grifter. If I'm doing my job right then the mark just, click, turns off the alarm for me.   (As Hardison alters Moto's photo) Eliot: That's nice, make him--make him look drunker. And then richer. Hardison: What you want me to do, give the man a pet tiger? Eliot: Can you do that?
   Fake FBI Guy: FBI, sir. That young lady's in our custody. Hardison: Aw see, you made two mistakes, bro. First, you flashed that fake ass FBI badge at me. Second, you spilled his coffee. (Pointing at Eliot)
   Nate: Where's Eliot? Hardison: Oh, he had to change his shirt. He got coffee on it. And some blood and some teeth.
   Parker: Who knew a sedan could hit 140? Sophie: Parker, you are never to get behind the wheel of a car again, okay? Never. 

Parker: (noting a statuary in a vault) Oh, hello. Last time I saw you was at the Louvre. Well, actually you were in the back seat of my car, but before that you were at the Louvre. Nate: Parker, focus! Parker: Okay.


Hardison: Small one is land purchases--old manor houses up for auction, all within the last two years, all in Scotland. Ha! Places like, uh...Loch Glengorra...and Loch McGr-r-r...I'm not even gonna try to pronounce it, man. It's just a bunch of random Gs and Ns.


Nate: The name of this con is called "The Mummy's Tiara." Hardison: Come on, man, that can't be real. Parker: Am I gonna have to steal a corpse again?
   Parker: I still don't know why Sophie's not doing this part of the con. Nate: Well, the con requires a carrot and a stick. I need her to be the stick. Parker: Well, remember that time I was the carrot and I stabbed somebody? Nate: I do.
 

Parker: You know, I'm really starting to like tasing people. Is that a problem?


[theliterateape]

Hope Idiotic | Part 19

By David Himmel

Hope Idiotic is a serialized novel. Catch each new part every week on Monday and Thursday.

THE DAY AFTER LOU MOVED TO CHICAGO, MICHELLE POINTED TO A TIFFANY’S MAGAZINE AD. It was for a princess-cut diamond ring.

“This is the ring I want,” she told him. “This would be perfect.”

He held onto that magazine ad. And when he brought it to Goldman Jewelers, the longtime Bergman family jeweler in Skokie, Lou told the man, “If you can design this, it would be perfect.”

The jeweler, who was only a few years older than Lou, took a look at it. His name was Art Goldman. He was the fourth generation working in the business of making girls squeal with delight when they received their blood diamonds. Getting the Goldman Jewelers business card was a rite of passage. Pop gave it to him. It was yellowed and dog-eared.

“You’ll probably work with Art,” Pop said. “You’ll like him. He’ll take care of you. His grandfather and I were friends from before the war. His great-grandfather sold me your grandmother’s ring. Sold your dad your mom’s ring, too. Mazel tov.”

But there was nothing to celebrate just yet. Lou needed the money for the ring. The standard rule used to be that an engagement ring should cost a man the equivalent of one month’s salary. For Lou, that would have been barely fifty bucks. He called his father and asked if they could meet for lunch to talk about finances.

“How much do you need?” Benjamin asked.

“I was wondering how much I had still in my savings accounts.”

Benjamin shifted in his seat. “That depends. Which accounts?”

“What do you mean which accounts? My savings accounts. The one you opened for me when I was born. And then the one we opened together when I turned eighteen.”

“Well, how much do you need?”

“I only need what I have, Dad. How much is in there?”

Lou never saw his statements. As a kid he couldn’t care less, and as an adult they never crossed his mind since they were mailed to his dad’s house because he was on the accounts as well. This allowed for Benjamin to use Peter to pay Paul. Deposits would be made into various accounts whenever bonds matured or when stock dividends were paid. But money was also taken from accounts to help pay for things like college tuition, cars, home repairs. Abe and Benjamin Bergman never borrowed from the bank, only family. And in a way, they were like a bank. And sometimes a bank doesn’t have all of your money waiting for you in the vault. So when Lou asked for his money, it wasn’t as simple as just withdrawing and closing the account.

“You have about eight thousand dollars of savings,” Benjamin said. “But you don’t need that money for a ring.”

“That’s exactly what I need it for, Dad. Where else am I going to get the money?”

“Tell me how much you need, and we’ll find it.”

“No. I don’t want you loaning me the money. I have it, so let me have it.”

“I’m not going to just give you your savings account so you can blow it on a ring. If you clean out your savings, what will you do if you need it in the future?”

“First of all, I wouldn’t consider buying an engagement ring a blown purchase. Secondly, the point of savings is to use it when you need it. And I need it. Just give me the bank book, and I’ll close it out.”

“I can’t. Well, you can’t.”

“Why? Do you have to be there, too?”

“The full amount isn’t in the account right now.”

“Where is it?”

“I had to use some to help pay off your mother from the divorce.”

“Jesus, Dad!”

“Let me just write you a check. This way you’ll still have your savings for later.”

“But I don’t. You just said it’s not there. And I don’t want to just borrow and steal from one person or another. I already owe Pop and Grams a couple hundred grand for the house. That’s enough for me. Please just find the money and put it back.”

“I think this is foolish.”

“Me spending my own money is foolish? Look, the sooner I get married, the sooner I can stop asking you for my half of the rent each month. Not that I’m marrying her for her money. How long do you need to get it?”

“A week or so.”

✶

THREE WEEKS AFTER FIRST MEETING WITH ART, Lou returned to Goldman Jewelers to put a deposit on the ring and place the order. But when he turned the car off, his hands shook. His chest tightened and felt like his ribs were going to crush his lungs and heart into gut dust. He was sweating and had trouble breathing. He hadn’t felt this way in a while. Not since the Remerol and the therapy sessions began. He looked around the parking lot. No one was watching. He pulled his phone out and called Chuck. But there was no answer. So he called me.

“Hey, man! What’s going on?” I asked.

“I’m about to lose my shit.”

“Why. What’s happening?”

“I just pulled into the parking lot to order Michelle’s ring, and I’m having a panic attack. I can’t breathe. My chest feels like…”

“Okay. Relax. You haven’t bought anything yet, right?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Alright. Here’s what you do. Turn the car back on and drive away. Don’t look back. Just pull out of the parking lot and go home. Or better yet, come back here. Leave all of your shit, don’t say goodbye to anyone, just start the car and drive away. Come back to where you can work and don’t have to get married.”

“I can’t. I have to…”

“You don’t have to do anything but drive away. This is your chance to be free. Be free, Louis!”

As quickly as the panic kicked in, it subsided. Lou took a deep breath. “Alright. Alright. I’m fine. I’ll be okay.”

“Did you leave?”

“No. Not yet. I’m just nervous, that’s all. I’m about to spend a lot of money. That’s all.”

“Exactly. That’s why you shouldn’t.”

“I’ll be fine. I gotta go.”

He adjusted himself in the rearview mirror, took a deep breath and walked into the store. Art, of course, was thrilled to see him. The deposit was a standard $125. The total cost of the ring would be $8,064. It was more than Lou had, but it would be ready in one month.

✶

ALTHOUGH BOTH LOU AND MICHELLE HATED CRUISES AND HAD JUST TAKEN A MEXICAN VACATION, they were preparing to embark on a ten-day cruise to the southern Caribbean in celebration of both Lynn and Barry Kaminski’s 60th birthdays as well as their 35th wedding anniversary. They were married on Valentine’s Day, just two days after their shared birthday. The four of them, Lou, Michelle and her parents, would be traveling aboard the Royal Duchess.

Lou and Michelle loved boats. They loved seeing the world. But cruises had the ability to make a great vacation into just a good vacation. Lou and Michelle liked to spend time in new towns and immerse themselves in the culture. When cruising, the few hours in each port did not allow for that. It was just enough time to buy a shot and a T-shirt at the local Hard Rock Café. But her parents were cruise enthusiasts, Duchess Cruises frequent sailors, and this trip was all about them. Which is exactly why Michelle didn’t give Lou a hard time about having to pay for him. Almost, anyway.

“I love my parents, but I don’t want to go on this cruise anymore than you do,” she said to him. “Money is tight for me right now, too. I’m trying to save for a down payment on a condo. But I’ll pay your way because we can’t not go.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said. “It’ll be fun. Just kind of a bummer that we have to celebrate Valentine’s Day on a cruise ship with thousands of other people potentially running around with the norovirus on their shit-stained hands. But I know how much this means to your parents.”

“Exactly. And so I need you to promise me something. I need you to promise me that you won’t flip out on this trip like you did in Cabo. Ruining my birthday and our anniversary is one thing; ruining them for my parents is something else entirely.”

“I know. I won’t.”

“Go see your grandfather before we leave if you have to. Do whatever it is you need to do so that you don’t lose your shit. I’m warning you, Lou. Do not.”

This trip was the perfect time for Lou to have the marriage talk with Lynn and Barry. He wasn’t worried about them not giving him their blessing. He just knew that it would mean more to them that he chose their celebration of love as the time to officially proclaim to them his love for their daughter. It would be one big floating fucking love fest.

“What are you guys talking about?” she asked.

“Your poop,” said Lou.

The first night on the ship was Lynn and Barry’s birthdays. Instead of eating in the dining room, Michelle planned and paid for a private in-suite meal with a special chef-selected menu. Lynn and Barry’s suite was one deck below and down a tad farther aft from Lou and Michelle’s. Both had balconies, but the birthday boy and girl’s suite was laid out more conducive to hosting a birthday dinner. Lou pitched in on the planning by decorating their door with photo collages of them he’d assembled before leaving Chicago.

After the private and delicious meal, the foursome made their way to the Crooners Lounge & Bar, where Michelle entered her vocal styling into the ship’s karaoke competition called Duchess Idol. Michelle had a great voice. She’d have told anyone if they had asked her. Not surprisingly, she advanced through the first two stages those first two nights. The third round — and the semifinal — was on Valentine’s Day, Lynn and Barry’s anniversary. It was also formal night aboard the ship, and Lou was in his tuxedo. This was the night he wanted to talk to Lynn and Barry. He just needed to get them away from Michelle long enough to ask. Michelle sang her song, Mary Wells’ “My Guy,” dedicating it to Lou, then headed off to the bathroom.

“I think I accidentally ate a piece of lettuce at dinner,” she said to Lou and her parents as she passed their table on her way out.

Lettuce was a trigger for her IBS. He knew she would be there a while. Lou watched her leave and waited a few moments before beginning, just to make sure she wasn’t coming back for anything.

“Barry, Lynn. Can I talk to you a moment?” He tried to whisper loud enough for them to hear, but not so loud that it disrupted the other performers. He took a deep breath and began. “I’d like to talk to you about Michelle.” The parents looked at each other knowingly. “You know, I love your daughter very much. And though we’ve had some bumpy moments since my moving to Chicago, we have stayed together through all of it. And I think that says something about us. I know that it’s important to Michelle, and to you, that she marry a man who can provide for her and the children they have together. I’m still having a hard time finding work while this recession is going on, but I have plans on becoming a teacher, which will allow me a steady paycheck in a secure environment with plenty of benefits and perks our family can take advantage of. In the meantime, if I have to, I’ll go to work at my dad’s sheet-metal company. What I’m saying is that I’ll do whatever I need to do to make sure that your daughter is always taken care of and happy. I want Michelle, and I to be a family. And while I’ve always felt like a part of your family, I want to make it official — if you’ll have me. I’ve gone ahead and commissioned a ring to be designed especially for Michelle, and I am asking for your blessing to use that ring to propose to her and ask her to be my wife.”

It was a mouthful. A well-rehearsed sales pitch. If only he could have rattled off pitches like that at ProCore.

“I knew this was going to happen on this trip,” Lynn said as she wiped away tears. “You know how much we love you, Lou.”

“Seeing you and Michelle get married… nothing would make us happier,” said Barry who also wiped away tears. “But if you break her heart, I’ll kill you.”

“Of course. Thank you both.” Lou stood and hugged each of them.

“It means a lot that you would talk to us about this tonight. On Valentine’s Day. On our anniversary. It really does mean a lot,” Barry said.

“I’m glad her IBS has such good timing. And just so we’re clear, I did not spike her dinner with lettuce.”

Michelle arrived just then. “What are you guys talking about?” she asked.

“Your poop,” said Lou.

“Come on,” said Barry. “Drinks on me.”

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

[ecotone99]

[TH] Not Another Bedtime Story: Jack and June

Jack’s home office sits right off the front foyer. Two sliding pocket doors open up to twilight blue with white wainscoting walls. Along the north facing wall is a waist high oak book shelf. Inside the bookshelf is a signed Ryan Sandburg baseball Jack got September 21, 1997. This was Ryne Sandberg’s last game and the last ball he would hit inside Wrigley Field. Coincidentally this would be the last time Harry Caray would sing Take Me Out to the Ball Game as he died the following winter. Next to the baseball sat his high school year books. All four laid stacked one on top of the other. “Best years of my life”, he would say. Next to the books was a photo taken of Jack and his father Roy during a fishing trip to Yellow Lake, Wis. Jack and Roy are still very close. Roy no longer lives in the area but they talk every Saturday about how the Cubs or Bears have been playing that week. Above the bookshelf is a large 18”x12” framed glossy print of a photo that Sara, Jacks wife took on their five year anniversary trip to Maui. Sara had a passion for photography, it was her major in college. She bought a new Nikon DSLR specifically for the trip. Jack and Sara spent every night walking the beach in front of the condo they had rented. Just walking and talking all the while taking in the sunset. Sara would take pictures and Jack looked for seashells and crabs that would pop out of their little holes in the sand, scurry sideways a few yards and then dart back below the grains. In the middle of the office was a reproduction 19th century french oak desk with fluted legs. Simple yet elegant. While in his office, Jack would sit in a leather upholstered, wood armed executive style chair. It was the only piece of furniture in the house Jack personally selected. He sat in the office 9-10 hours a day so he felt he better be comfortable. Directly in front of the desk sat two chairs. The chairs were positioned 22 degrees at opposing outward angles from each other. The chairs were purchased for clients, but Jacks kids used them more. Each night they would climb up to either get help with their homework or hangout. In front of the chairs along the South facing wall was a large bay window. The window looked out on the wrap around porch and the front lawn beyond. On the lawn was a large maple. If he was lucky he might catch pair of squirrels chasing each other around the trunk. Most mornings he would drink his coffee right there and just watch, appreciating his view and how far he had come.

Jack was doing well, but he was humble and would never have said it. He didn’t come from money. His parents gave him plenty of love but not much else. After their farmhouse renovation was completed Sara insisted they drive downtown to the Historic Three Arts Club, the site of the new Restoration Hardware. This wasn’t Steinhafels or even Ethan Allen. The line was blurred between retail and a weekend getaway that comes with hired help. Sara began to imagine what their home should be. By the end of the second day Sara was happy and they had spent what most families spend on their first home. Jack was happy with his old Lazy-Boy. He had won it off his neighbors in college in a game of Texas Hold’em. Hold’em was popular in his college days. Rounders came out a few years prior and Chris Moneymaker had just won the World Series or Poker which sent a wave of excitement across middle-class America, it was a modern day gold rush. There is a strange allure to poker. It’s easy to learn and even easier to mistake luck for skill. That Lazy-Boy was the first place Sara and Jack hooked up, seeing Jack win it was strangely satisfying for 19 year old Sara. Like watching two lions challenge each other for dominance and it was her boyfriend that came out on top.

When Sara got pregnant the two of them had only been together 8 months. Jack was far from what you would call an adult, he played video games and smoked weed, he stayed up late and worked as a bouncer at the local pub. He always was a thinker, he never made rash decisions unless of coarse he was drinking. After a few beers he played off the cuff. It almost cost him his life on more than one occasion. One night at Side Tracks, a bar located next to the railroad which ran straight through the middle of Carbondale, his buddies told him they were heading to another bar across town. Jack had already bought himself a shot and one for a girl he was talking with. “I’ll meet you at the car, just give me five minutes” he said. The bartender handed him his drink and as his fingers made contact with the tiny glass he heard the horn of a freight train barring down. He picked the shot glass off the sticky surface of the well abused bar, threw back his head, “Sorry, gotta go” he said and he bolted for the door. He jumped down the stairs and headed west down Main. The crossing gates were down but he didn’t stop, he looked to his right and saw the light on top of the train. The conductor probably shit himself as he grabbed for the airhorn not knowing if he was about to take a young mans life. His friends would tell this story for years and say how they lost him under the light as the train passed. Sober, he was calm and calculated. Drunk he was stupid and bold, a risk taker.

Everything changed when his son was born. They named him Roy Jr. but everyone called him R.J. Jack never drank again, not like he had with his friends in college. Jack knew he couldn’t be that guy anymore. He cut ties with his friends. His friends were living different lives. He was changing diapers, and they weren’t changing. Jack excepted a job as a runner for the Chicago Board of Trade. He loved the city. In another life he may have lived there, but he had a family now and that wouldn’t work. The cost of private school alone would be more than he was making as a runner. He would get off at Union Station and walk past the roaring engine of the train down the long corridor up the stairs to Madison Ave. It was there he would pause take a deep breath. There was something he loved about the smell of the city in the morning. It was the smell of commerce. The smell of tires, exhaust fumes, grime and stench of moving people. Jack, being a college drop out knew he couldn’t go any higher working there, so he studied at home. He was good at math and trading came natural. He managed to save a few thousand dollars and opened up an account with an online broker. He still worked as a runner but read earnings reports at night. He made some good calls and some even better puts. He managed to get a little backing from some of the traders he had met on the trading floor. Jack turned $200,000 into $4 Million buying puts against Citibank during the collapse of the financial sector in 2008. After he made everyone even he was 25 years old with 1.4 million in the bank. Jack quit his job and opened J&R Capital.

His life would change again in 2013 with the birth of his daughter Lucy. R.J. and Jack were close but there is something very special about a father daughter relationship. He loved that little girl with all his heart. Around this time the markets lost their volatility and began trending sideways. Jack had more and more free time. During which Jack became increasingly interested his genealogy. He bought a subscription to Ancestry.com but the more he looked, the more confused it all became. Jacks last name was Smith, being the most common last name in America certainly had its drawbacks when attempting to map out his family tree.

Jack was sitting at his desk going over the downward trend lines of Chesapeak Energy when his wife came in. “Happy Birthday Sweetie” Sara said as she handed him a wrapped present. Jack was excited because Sara always gave the best presents. During Jacks childhood his parents asked what he wanted and that’s what he got. There was never a surprise. Sara didn’t do that. She payed attention all year and would come up with the most unexpected, yet so thoughtful and useful gifts. Jack gently tore at the blue and yellow stripped package. A white square box that read 23 and Me. “This is amazing”. “Do you like it?” Sara asked. “It’s the combo one, it checks for certain genetic gene markers, don’t ask me which ones, and also puts you in a database which show you close relatives”. “I do” Jack smiled, “I really do”. “Alright, we really should get going”, Jack and Sara went to the same restaurant for both of their birthdays. It was their favorite restaurant after all. A small Italian Restaurant in downtown Libertyville. They have been eating there since the night Jack purposed. Jack was so nervous that night, she still jokes about how he fumbled his words ordering his meal. Jack knew she would say yes, but that didn’t make it any less anxiety producing. After the meal they took a walk down Main Street. They came to a small park in front an 1800s Greek Revival home. Jack stopped and dropped down to his knee.

When the DNA results came in Jack was thankful he was not a carrier of the E4 variant of the APOE gene and surprised to learn he was 5% Mongolian. He didn’t look Mongolian but he chalked it up to Genghis Khans sexual prowess. “1 in every 200 men are direct descendants of him” Jack told Sara.

A few months past and life went on as usual. Jack loved to read bedtime stories and his favorite was One Fish, Two Fish. Lucy developed a love for Oh The Places You’ll Go. Much like every night, Jack would brush her teeth and get her in Pjs. He would tuck her into her My Little Pony bedsheets, then take a set next to her pillow and read her the story. As Jack read the last page, “Congratulations!

Today is your day.

You’re off to Great Places!

You’re off and away!”

There was a knock at the door. Jack looked at his watch, who is at the door at 9 o’clock he thought. He kissed Lucy’s forehead, she was already asleep. He walked out closing the door softly as to not wake her and headed towards the stairs. Sara opened the door, “We’re looking for a Jack Smith ma’am, is he home” a stern voice said. “One second, can I tell him who’s here?”

“Detective Pose, ma’am” Jack rounded the banister, “What’s going on Sara?” Looking at Jack then back to the gentlemen on the porch, “there’s a Detective…” “Pose, ma’am” the detective interrupted. “Jack Smith?” the detective now making eye contact with Jack. Jack nodded, “how can I…” before he could finish, the Detective grabbed Jack by the left wrist. In one smooth motion he twisted Jacks arm behind his back, bending the wrist forcing pressure on the ligaments that join the fingers and arm. “What the fuck is going on” Jack snaps. “Jack” Sara cowardly whimpers as she tries to make heads and tails of the transgression taking place. “Take it easy… give me one second and I will explain everything” Pose says. He slips a pair of chrome handcuffs from his belt line and places them around Jacks wrist. They were cold, Jack thought as they gripped tightly. My name is Detective Pose from Lake County PD, I am here to exercise a warrant for your arrest out of Lincoln, Nebraska. “Lincoln, Nebraska?” Jack says. “I have never even been to Lincoln, Nebraska”. Jack says it, but thats a lie. He stayed at the Marriot off I-80 last year when he helped his father move to the Front Range just outside Boulder. “You have a warrant written by Judge Raymond Sands for one count of Statutory Rape” “What the fuck is he talking about Jack?” Sara pleads for an answer. “This has got to be a mistake Sara, we’ll figure this out. “Call Jimmy”, Jimmy was Jacks brother and a local criminal defense attorney, “and see if he can get down to the police station” Jack yelled as he was lead away to the squad car park in the pebble stone driveway. “Nice Lantern” the accompanying officer says. The officer was African American and he’s referring to the black jockey statue holding the lantern. Jack could have explained to the cop that it wasn’t a racist thing, it was actually a period piece that shown the way north for slaves traversing the underground railroad, but Jack didn’t give a fuck about what this cop thought, not tonight.

The next morning Jimmy arrived at the station, “I got some good news and bad news” he says. “The good news Jimmy!” Jack says. “You should be able to win this based on the statute of limitations, but the bad news is you can’t post bail here” Jimmy explains. “What do you mean” “You’ll have to be transported to Lincoln and post bail there”. “Statute of Limitation? When are they saying this happened?” Jack asked from between his hands. “2002” “Jesus Christ, I was in High School in 2002. I hadn’t been to Nebraska till last year Jimmy”. “It wasn’t in Nebraska Jack. It alleges you fathered a child with an underage girl. It says here, you met in Cancun. Your DNA in the searchable FamilyTreeDNA Database was linked to a baby born to a minor in Lincoln, Nebraska in 2003” “Times up” an officer barks, sounding harsher than necessary but understandable given the population he works around. “I’ll find a good lawyer in Lincoln by the time you get there”, “Thanks, Jimmy”.

“Over here” pointing to a black line on the floor 3 feet from steel door. The officer grabbed for his radio that he had clipped on his khaki pants pocket. “One from the Cafeteria to Intake” he said while making eye contact with central control. The steel door made a load click and became slightly ajar. The officer walked Jack through three more doors and into the intake office. An intake officer brought Jack into the bathroom and strip searched him, “didn’t we already do this?” Jack questioned. “Once on the way in and once on the way out. Don’t want you taking those Bob Barkers home with you” the officer joked. Jack didn’t laugh. Jack was lead out to an awaiting unmarked white van. The van was surrounded by three walls and two razor wire gates. “Normally you have to wait weeks for extradition, you must be someone special” the officer said as he helped Jack into the back seat. The two officers up front talked for the first few hours but Jack wasn’t listening. His mind wondered. Fathered a kid, he thought to himself. He knew what Jimmy was talking about, it had been 17 years since he thought about that night.

Jack was 18 in the the summer of 2002. All his friends were doing a high school graduation trip to Cancun, Mexico. They stayed at some all inclusive hotel with the rest of the kids from his high school. From the moment they got to the hotel the drinks flowed. Rum Punch was popular. On the second day, while walking by the tourist shops, his roommate Matt was called over to a staircase that led from the street and adjacent store fronts to apartments above. The man was smaller than Matt. The clothes he wore looked like discarded hand me downs form middle class american families. Matt bought coke from that man in the stairway. Not any coke that could have been found in the states, this was uncut cocaine. Well if it was cut, it wasn’t cut much. The boys spent the rest of the afternoon at the cabana beach bar drinking mai tai’s and rum punch , occasionally running back to do lines in their room.

Jack remembered that cocaine well, it seemed to liquify on the glass table, leaving an oily residue in its place after the line was blown. Jack went out with a group of guys to watch the Mike Tyson Lennox Lewis fight. It was there Jack met June.

Jack and Matt were up on the second story balcony looking down on the people below. Jack bought a table and a bottle of Vodka. It was a show of prestige but it worked. As the fight ended, Jack saw June below. She wore a faded Dead Kennedys half shirt and a plaid red skirt. Her hair was curly made more so by the humidity, it was short, like a 1920s flapper but it had much more volume. She was either way behind or way before her time. Her cheeks had light freakles which accented her olive skin. She was standing with a group of girls and guys, he motioned to her to come up. June not wanting to go alone grabbed her friend. June and Jack danced and laughed all night. They both lost track of their friends. The night ended when June, dancing on the hightop lost her balance. Jack caught her, but both fell to the ground. They smiled deeply into each others eyes. “I should find my friends” June said, “come on” and she grabbed Jack by the hand. They walked through bar until June finally asked, “will you walk me back to my hotel, I don’t know where everyone went”. They hoped a bus that lead from Senior Frogs to the hotel side of the city. The bus was packed, they kissed the whole ride while the other drunks sang accapella with each other. Jack was drunk, PDA wasn’t his thing. He thought it was trashy, but Jack had been drunk since noon and was only awake thanks to cocaine and his teenage hormones. Their stop was a block from the hotel. June grabbed for his hand. “This way” she said as she took the lead. The hotel was nicer then his, not as loud, it must have catered to a different set of people. June brought Jack to the second floor, “my rooms right over here”, in pure alcohol fueled passion they kissed. She was shorter then he was, all his girlfriends were. She opened the door, noticing the lights were off she turned, “shush, my friends are sleeping”. This was it Jack thought, this is actually happening. Still holding his hand she opened the door. As she disappeared into the shadow she turned and put her finger to her lip, she pulled him inside. It was pitch black in the room as June lead the way to the sliding glass door. There were no chairs, Jack sat down with his back to the wall. June sat down next to Jack. There was a short pause as they both figured out how to proceed. Jack leaned in and kissed her. One awkward position after another and June found herself on top. She stopped kissing, leaned back, grabbing Jacks left wrist as she began to roll to the side. She slide her underwear off, exposing a full, unmanaged bush which was unusual for 2002, but it turned him on. Jack pulled out a condom, slipped it on and sank down onto of her. She moaned. 7 minutes later, thanks to the whiskey, it was over. He rolled over and layed there for a moment. When Jack reached down to take off the condom he found it wasn’t there. It must have fallen off after we were done, he thought. “I should probably go, do you want to hang out tomorrow” Jack asked. “Yeah” June said, “let me go to the bathroom and I will meet you outside and give you my number”. They got up, quietly slide the heavy glass door open and walked into the pitch black. June went into the bathroom. Jack was making his way through the room when a voice came through the darkness, “I think you better leave” it said. “thats my sister, she’s fifteen”. June was still in the bathroom, but Jack took the stranger at his word. He left out the front door. What the fuck he thought. He didn’t stick around for an explanation. His mind ran wild, he was still drunk but he felt dirty. In the time it took the voice in the darkness to udder those words he went from on top of the world to gutter trash. There’s no way she’s fifteen, there’s just no fucking way. She’s in a bar drinking with friends. And where the fuck are her parents. Maybe he’s fucking with me. Jack thought the whole walk back to his hotel. The next morning, Matt and Jack had bacon, hash browns and mimosas for breakfast. Jack never saw June again.

“All rise” the bailiffs voice rang out. “The honorable Judge Raymond Sands presiding, you may all be seated”. Jack looked around, his wife sat behind him, never thinking she would see the day her husband would stand trial for rape.

June’s parents had pressed charges the day they found out June was pregnant, the detective took down the notes but it was clear there was little that could be done. Ten years went by before the science came around. They were able to send the childs DNA into the FamilyTreeDNA Database, but there were no hits. Five years went by before her parents got the call they had been waiting for.

Jack took a plea bargain, he couldn’t risk 10 years, he would serve two years with credit for time served. Jack was shuffled off to Lincoln Correctional Center, he wouldn’t pass go he wouldn’t collect $200. His wife went back home, he was all alone. It was Jacks 14th day, the officer was calling the inmates names that had visitors. “Jack Smith” the officer shouted, “line up”. When he arrived in the visiting room he hardly recognized the face of the women in front of him. She had tight blue jeans that were ripped at the knees and an old Pantera shirt. The women stood up and turned to walk away. “June?” Jack quietly asked. The women turned around. “Please, sit back down.” Jack’s world would never be the same. His home life was in shambles. He still had 699 days left. There was a 17 year old out there that may or may not want to meet him. There was back child support he owed. He looked at her freckles, it was the girl from all those years before. He wanted to know all about her life. “Can we talk?” She smiled and took the seat across the from him.

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