9.4: College Conversations

   "Row, row, row your boat, gentle down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream." I hummed, as I whipped up some waffle batter. After tossing and turning all night long, trying to decide how I'd broach the subject of college with Delilah, I decided over breakfast, before she went to work would be ideal. I poured the batter into a pan, then popped the pan into the oven, hoping i wouldn't burn them. The recipe said ten minutes to bake, but with my luck I'd forget and let them bake one hundred. I set my phone's timer, then walked to Anderson's room to see if he needed to be changed. He was potty trained, but still sleeping in nappies at night, to avoid messes.
   "Hi, hi." He grinned. "I up."
   "Yes, you are awake." I cooed. "How did you sleep?"
   "Dragons!"
   "Dragons?" I asked, curiously.
   "I dweaed, I was big and strong and I saved ev'body from dragons."
   "Did Delilah read you a book like that?" He nodded. "I like books."
   "Yay, that's good!" I'm sure he'll love school, when he began. I picked him up, placed him on the changing table, dressed him in a cute pair of overalls, than carried him to the kitchen where I placed him in the swing, that he'd be too big for soon.
   "G'morning, Phoebe." Smiled Delilah, as she sat at the table in a short skirt and sweater that made me wonder whether or not the school she was a teacher at had a dress code, the were waffles on a plate in front of her.
   "Waffles?"
   "I assumed you put them in."
   "Yeah, they have five more minutes, though."
   "The oven was set to five hundred, not three-fifty."
   "Oh." I laughed. "See, I'm no good at cooking." I sat down, grabbing a waffle with a fork. "Can I talk to you?"

   "Sure, I mean considering that you already are."
   "I... I want to go to college."
   "Okay." She said, not looking up from her waffles. "What are you thinking of majoring in?"
   "I'm not sure, interior design? Maybe business?"
   "Cool; you do love drawing interiors, it make senses."
   "Really?"
   "Yeah." She glanced up at me. "Was I suppose to react differently?"
   "Ye-er, no. I just thought it'd be more, I dunno, dramatic."
   "Phoebe, you're an adult, you make your own choices and I'll support you."
   "Thank you."
   "So what college are you thinking of applying to?"
   "Um, I don't know. Some place different, you know. I want the normal college experience, though, so not community college."
   "There are plenty of state schools out there." She shrugged. "Besides, lots of kids take a year off in between high school and college, there will be one school out there meant for you."
   "I just hope I can find it."
   "Oh, you will be; don't worry." I had been nervous about my announcement- I hadn't expected Delilah to be so understanding and relaxed about my announcement. "Oh, speaking of school, I want to sign Anderson up for preschool!"
   "Preschool?"
   "He loved getting to go to the elementary school yesterday; I figured be better capitalize on that love and set him up for success."
   "Alright." I smiled. Anderson and I were both going to be getting extra education; the Janes family was going to go from a bare bones minimum, free, public education family, to a well educated, college degree holding one and I couldn't be more excited.

Author's note: Sorry for the short chapter; it was a needed transition one. 

9.3: Run Ins and Chats

   "C'mon, c'mon, work." I shouted at the coffee maker, rather aggravated. When I resided in Isla Paradiso, I'd have the occasional caffeinated beverage, a soda, maybe an iced latte, or energy drink, but I never had a heavy dependence on the substance. Delilah changed that  after a few weeks; she was an avid coffee drinker and while I didn't hate the bitter beverage, I much rather preferred the delicate flavors of tea. Sadly enough, the teas I preferred weren't caffeinated enough to ward off a caffeine headache, so I found myself screaming at the coffee pot every morning. "Finally!" I exclaimed, once my mug was filled to the brim.

   I took the mug, satisfied, and sipped the strong liquid. Supposedly this type of roast had more caffeine than other varieties, but I couldn't taste or tell the difference. I glanced out the window; the leaves were turning a lovely rainbow of yellows, red, and browns, the October landscape was gorgeous. I thought when I moved to the States I'd finally be able to enjoy Autumn and all the clothes and warm, fuzzy things associated with the season. My assumption had being horridly wrong; the high today was estimated to be about eighty-five degrees, right now, at seven-thirty am, my phone informed me it was seventy. I'd never seen snow, real snow, not the fake stuff that was used to decorate the gymnasium for high school dances, or experienced the cold, so I wasn't sure how I'd like it, but I still wanted to try the weather out, have a real winter.
   The last drop of coffee was the best, I'd decided happily as shuffled around the cabinets for another packet of coffee, I need more or I'd get a headache. There was only decaf left- I never understood those who drank coffee for the taste, the warmth- so, dejected, I opened the dishwasher and placed my mug inside, on the top rack. I'd have to buy more detergent and coffee when I went to the store. I opened the fridge, looking for eggs or yoghurt or fruit I could enjoy for breakfast. Coffee was fuel to me, but food was an experience, something take pleasure from. You had to eat; might as well eat what you like. There was nothing of the enjoyable breakfast sort, though; I'd have to buy those from the grocer's as well. I should go to the store today. In fact; I had nothing to do now, I'll go before I start procrastinating.
   I wandered down the stairs, eager to go to the small market Delilah favored. I'd been living with her for a few months and had learned my way around the city fairly well. The grocery store was right next to a quaint diner, down the street was a theatre, coffee shop, artesian perfume vendor, veterinarian, and a book store.

   "Good morning!"
   "Delilah..." I murmered. She was holding Anderson, a rarity, usually she left him sleeping until I could awaken him, and hadn't left for work yet, usually she was gone by six-forty-five. "And Anderson?"
   "Hi, Phoebe!" He exclaimed, smiling a toothy four year old smile. "Delilah takes me to school, yay, yay."
   "School? Delilah what's going on?"
   "It's take your kid to work day." She shrugged.
   "You don't like taking Andy toy your work. On take your son to work day you said he'd not be able to entertain himself."
   "Yes, but each day this week has a theme. Take your kid to school, wear school colors, dress up like your favorite superhero."
   "Sounds fun..."
   "And if the teachers participate in each day, we don't have to chaperone the elementary school football Superbowl."
   "Ohh." That explained it; she hated sports, especially when the players were four feet tall and not very good. "Well, I hope you have fun, Andy."
   "I will! I gets to paints, fun, fun, yay."
   "We're studying impressionism." She shrugged. "Plus, kindergarteners love vistiors. It'll apease them and Anderson, won't it, hon?"
   "Yeah."
   "Okay." I murmured, smiling, glad that Delilah was involving Anderson in something. She loved him and was a good parent, even if she originally never planned to have a child, she helped develop his vocabulary, read to him, took him to children's museums, made sure he did lots of artsy crafts, and made sure his motor skills were fine tuned.
   "Say goodbye to Phoebe."

   "Bye, bye, sis." He said, waving as Delilah exited.
   He'd have fun; he'd never been to Delilah's work before, no doubt he'd enjoy getting to see "big" kids who'd probably be enchanted by him. I suppose her taking him made my errands easier. Instead of hauling him with me, or calling a sitter like I'd planned, he'd get quality time with his step-mom, who he called Delilah or mommy two. I grabbed a reusable grocery bag that had my sketch pad in it and exited,  locking the door. I was off to go have a productive day.

______________

   "Thank you!" I called out, to the grocer. I'd spent a bit more time and money at the store than I'd planned; they'd just received a new shipment of herbal teas, my weakness. Also, Delilah and I were both terrible cooks; anything complex we'd burn or  mess up somehow, so I often bought duplicates of what was needed for certain recipes, so we could practice. Since I'd bought so much, they agreed to drop my groceries off at the apartment around four-thirty, when I knew Delilah would be home and able to help me haul everything to the appropriate location.
  My phone informed me that the time was ten-forty-nine; too early for lunch, most diners in this area didn't open until eleven. I didn't have any groceries at home, so I couldn't cook myself anything, and I was a wee bit peckish.
   "I'll go to the coffee shop." I decided aloud, as I walked down the brightly lit street, enjoying the warm sun on my skin and the quiet midmorning lull.

   I entered the shop, noticing no barista or customer roaming about. I knew after the morning nine-to-five crowd, but right before lunchtime, establishments usually didn't have a mass amount of patrons, yet I hadn't expected to see the barren wasteland that greeted me.
   "Hello?" I called out, seeing no one. Was the place open? I assumed so; the doors weren't locked, normally they opened up at five and didn't close until eleven.
   "Phoebe Janes?" I heard a confused voice call me name.

   "Yes?" I asked, turning to see who it was. Xavier? Xavier Tenant? I hadn't seen him since August when he'd been mugged; I'd been too embarrassed to go with Delilah to any social gatherings. I knew that it wasn't my fault, he'd insisted on walking me home and taking that shortcut, but still my irrational eighteen year old mind was screaming for me to avoid the gentlemanly twenty-nine year old, because I couldn't explain the fluttering sense of joy that occurred in my stomach whenever I saw him.
   "Hey, haven't seen you in awhile. The shop's closed until eleven; whatcha doing here?"

   "Um." I felt my cheeks flush a bright scarlet. "Well, see, the doors weren't locked."
   "Ah." He smiled. "Didn't read the signage?" There was signage?
   "What are you doing here?" I quickly asked, hoping to distract him from my blunder.
   "Training the employees how to use a new computer program to track sales." He shrugged. "I finished early, though, so now I'm free until one, then I've got an across down meeting at the office."
   "Cool." I weakly replied. "So..."
   "So..." He repeated. "How are you?"
   "Good." I glanced at my feet. "Sorry."
   "Sorry?"
   "The mugging... I felt bad, I just, I heard your phone and watch were taken, I can repay you."
   "Is that why I haven't seen you around? Pho, honestly, it isn't a big deal." He shrugged. "I wasn't hurt or anything and I'm the idiot who thought the dark, dank alleyway would be perfectly safe."
   "I'm glad you're okay."
   "I'm glad that you don't hate me for taking you that way. You seem like a difficult person to convince to forgive."
   "Please, as if you couldn't charm anyone into liking you or apologizing." I looked into his large doe eyes, inhaling, as I felt his hand on mine.
   "I dunno. I haven't tried my luck with ladies like you, before."
   "Like me?"
   "Headstrong, artistic, funny, generous." He shrugged.
   "You barely know me, yet you've analyzed my personality?!"
   "Delilah talks about you lots."
   "Really?"
   "Indeed, and Anderdson. she won't admit it, but she's smitten with the kid, I think she likes that he admires her, likes being able to have a student 24/7. Now, could I charm you into having lunch with me?"
   "I think you could." I winked.

______________

   "You pick good restaurants; this is delicious food." I gushed, trying to not inhale my food and actually enjoy the delicacy.

   "Thank you, though really, the credit goes to one of my ex-girlfriends. She use to be a waitress here, so I visited pretty often."

   "Ah." I simply replied, not wanting to venture into the subject of relationships when I'd never had one before. "How's work?"

   "Not bad. It pays the bill and then some." He shrugged. "Like I said when we met, it appeases my parents, so that's good. I'd ideally like to do something more computer and accounting oriented, so I'm using both my bachelor's, but the job market's not the best."

   "Maybe it'll get better."

   "Maybe." He smiled, taking another bite of food. "So what do you do?"

   "I paint, well sketch."

   "What do you sketch?"

   "Rooms." I blushed, hoping it didn't sound silly. "I like decorating them, in my pictures."

   "That's neat. You could sell them or become an interior designer, perhaps."

   "I dunno. It's just a hobby; I'm not sure I know enough to start a business off of my skills."

   "There's always college."

   "College?"

   "You never considered it?"

   "I did, sorta... Just, now, I mean. I'm a little late and my test scores were mediocre, plus with Anderson, and money."

   "You've got a tragic history that's great for college entrance essays, there's plenty of scholarships, and you're bright and bubbly; I'm not saying apply to Harvard or Yale, I'm just saying consider a state school."

   "A state school..." I did love designing rooms, the ideas he was telling me weren't brand new; I'd considered those options before, I just never thought I'd be able to do it... Maybe, maybe I could, though. It's be nice to be the first person in my direct family who I knew of to go to college, I'd be able to let loose and have a little fun, and it'd set a wonderful example for Anderson. Maybe I should, or at least ask Delilah for more information and assistance. "Thanks; I think maybe I might look into it, maybe even apply."

   "That's great! You've got so many possibilities available, don't end up like me, old, wishing I could have gotten a different master's degree and a different job."

   "You're not old."

   "I dunno. Sometimes I feel old." He shrugged. "I mean, I don't know what 'do it for the Vine' means, but I'm setting up retirement for myself.

   "Trust me, so many people would be better off if they were like you." 

   I liked Xavier; I'd never had many friends or gone out of my way to make and keep them, I'd never been able to talk about the future with them, with him, despite the eleven year age gap, I felt completely comfortable. My stomach would feel a bit warm, fuzzy, and jittery, but other than that, he was a handsome, helpful gentleman, who gave good advice. I should apply to college; I want to be able to enjoy my last few years of being a teenager, I love learning, I'd love to be an entrepreneur, college seemed like a wonderful plan.

9.2 Part Two: The Club

   "Ugh!" I scoffed, glaring at myself in the mirror. Originally I wasn't planning on putting a lot of effort into my appearance, but after meeting Xavier, some odd feeling compelled me to. I had spent the last hour and a half on my makeup and hair; I was horrid at hair, I tried to do some Pintrest up do and always ended up with the same lump of blonde strands being held together by bobby pins. I'd never tried the smoky eye look, but I assumed it couldn't be too difficult, so I decided to try it. I'd applied too much shadow to the left eye, so I applied more to the right, than I looked too goth, so I threw in some green; now I just looked like a drag queen.

   "Phoebe?" I heard Delilah call. "We have half an hour until we need to go."

   "I'm… I dunno. I look like a mess!"

   "May I come in?"

   "Yeah." I sighed. Why couldn't makeup and hair be easier things to do; magazines and movies made it look effortless. Of course, normally I didn't care about silly things, but tonight something felt different. 

   "Oh, honey." She said, when she walked in and looked at me. "You've been in here of ages, your hair looks the same."

   "I know."

   "Your makeup looks, interesting, and, er, quite nice, though."

   "Don't patronize me." I glumly replied. I wanted to look lovely tonight; I needed to make a wonderful first impression, yet I was having such difficulty with my appearance. I liked myself as I was, why did I have to apply products to enhance my average looks?

   "Do you have an outfit picked out?" She tactfully asked, ignoring my statement, 

   "I don't exactly have anything club appropriate. I was thinking maybe my high school graduation dress, though."

   "No, no, we don't need to break out the black tie. Thing business casual, darling. Let's go to my room; we're about a size apart, so they should fit, they might just be longer than needed."

   "Thank you for trying to help me."

   "My pleasure, besides I'm the one who invited you out, it's only fair to help you get ready." I followed her out of the bathroom to her cheerfully decorated bedroom. "Alright, think formal, not super formal, but sexy office attire."

   "Sexy?!"

   "Crap, I forgot. I'm your step-mom, I'm suppose to be preaching abstinence and be all anti-under aged drinking. I'm telling, you though, my junior year of my undergrad, of course I turned twenty-one that year, anyways, point is I didn't do either of those things and I've got a stable job and nice personal life. But don't drink under aged, it's not cool, it's stupid and what idiot posers trying to look cool do, and personally I don't give a crap who you sleep with or when you do it, as long as you both consent and I don't have to pay for STD meds or the kid you accidentally pop out. Was that mom-ish, enough?"

   "I guess… can I change now?"

   "Oh, yeah. Sure." She blushed, exiting the bedroom and closing the door. 

   In the dresser there was a variety of clothes, ranging from revealing and almost what a stripper would wear to practically Amish. I picked a nice, blue blouse with yellow decals and slid into in. What for pants? Jeans did seem club appropriate, nor did khakis. Perhaps a skirt? The micro, velvet, navy skirt seemed a bit itchy, may the cotton brown one? I stepped into it and glanced at myself in the mirror. My hair, flip flops, and made the outfit look ridiculous, but maybe, just maybe I could pull it off.

   I  called Delilah in, expecting her to be glad that I was dressed following her guidelines, however she vetoed the outfit and called it "Amish"and said I need to slut it up a bit. In order to get back at her, playfully of course, I picked out micro shorts and a bikini top, which appalled her, as I laughed and smirked and said that I'd change, but I was going to pick what I liked.

   "Fine, fine, just hurry, we have to go soon. The sitter's here and I told her you'd tell her all the baby nonsense she needed to know."
   "I called her in this morning as well; I think she should know what to do."
   "Oo, what you'd do this morning?"
   "Went to the art  store. One of your friends stopped by, gave me a book to give back to you. I think I put it on your desk."
   "A guy? Xavier?" Hope gleamed in her eyes as I glanced at my feet. "How is he? Every since his breakup with the vet, he hasn't left his house much, other than for work."
   "He's fine."
   "Maybe he's moved on?" She smiled. To herself I heard her mumble, "Where's my pushup bra?" Was she trying to impress him? From what he told me, they were just friends; there wasn't an inkling of romance, then again Delilah had mentioned a crush when we'd chatted early this week, when she was introducing herself. "Oh well, hurry, get dressed." She rushed out of the room, as I picked the first two articles of clothing that I spotted, not wanting to be late. I slipped into the skirt and tank top, glancing at myself in the mirror. My hair needed to be fixed; it was awful. I grabbed a brush and ripped it through a few times, it was now down and looked a bit more presentable.

   I walked over to the door, throwing it open, as Delilah grabbed my arm, her nails stabbing my skin. "Quick, we've got to go." She pulled me down the stairs, out of the apartment, into the elevator, then into her car, before I even had time to process what was going on.
   "How do I look?" I asked, as she sped through the city, turning right, then left, then making a U-turn and doubling back to a parking structure.
   "Damn, you look hot. I hadn't even bothered look, I hate being late..." She winked at me, then parked the car, getting out. I followed her down a level, then to the club's entrance.

   "Are your friends here?"
   "They're by the bar." She pointed to a group of woman, who were all holding different shaped glasses that contained, from my limited knowledge of alcoholic beverages, red wine, scotch or whiskey or brandy, white wine, and an expensive looking beer.
   "Hi." I timidly said, once we talked up to them, as they smiled and introduced themselves. Delilah joined them at the bar, as I stood awkwardly to the side. I had expected a darker, sweatier atmosphere than what the brightly lit, hardwood floors, and classical music provided. 

   ?Did you hear? The market's down?" Delilah asked, as she took a drink from the platter.
   "I told you it would be." A blonde woman chimed in. "My husband said we should sell while the market's good and we did; made three thousand profit."
   "Not bad." Another woman, a dark haired woman replied. "Delilah, don't you own five hundred shares?"
   "Yeah. I was hoping that the stock market would go up and I could sell for a tad more, three K is okay. I sold though, I'm going to wait a few days, see how low it'll get, then rebuy and sell when the market's up again. Your husband gives good advice."

   "Thanks." Blonde lady replied; the names hadn't stuck in my head.
   "Speaking of him, where s he?" The red head asked.
   "At home with the baby; the fever's lower, but still I didn't want to leave a babysitter with her."
   "Oh! Speaking of babies, we're expecting a boy."
   "Congratulations!" Delilah, black haired lady, and blonde lady all exclaimed.
   "That's not wine, now is it?" I heard Xavier chuckled.
   "Ginger ale, oh I wouldn't drink while pregnant. You know that Xavier."
   "Speaking of Xavier, when are you going to populate the world with your redheaded angels?" The blonde lady asked. "You too, Delilah; you're the only unmarried ones in the group."
   "Uh..." Delilah said, looking towards Xavier with admiration, as she knocked back a shot of something. Had she not told her group about my father? Or had accepted the fact  that she was a widow and moved on?
   "When the time comes, the time comes." Xavier classfully said. I looked at my feet, feeling invisible.  I wasn't married or expecting children and I didn't want to be asked when I planned on becoming a mother, but they hadn't even glanced at me or said anything other than, 'My name is, blah blah, nice to meet you.' I slowly turned, heading towards an alcove that was lined with black, velvet seats.

   I wasn't an excellent socialite, nor was I one to ignore social clues. Clearly I didn't fit in with Delilah's stock market, mommy friends. I wanted to find my own friends, my own people to hang out with, and not rely on my step-mother. I had started sketching wit the art supplies i bought this afternoon, and I loved that, I just wish that I had a group of people to talk to that wasn't Delilah or Anderson. I sighed, looking down at myself. I thought I looked attractive, but compared to Delilah's friend I look like a whore. I wanted to go home, bury myself in my sketches, yet I smiled, trying to suck it up and not be the party ruiner.
   "Hey." I heard a man say. I glanced up; it was Xavier.
   "Hi."
   "I saw you wander off, we were concerned."
   "We?"
   "Yeah, Delilah and I."
   "Oh... where's Delilah?"
   "Let's just say she handles shots pretty poorly; she rambling about her love life and how everyone else is pregnant or married and she's single. I figured they needed girl talk, so I came to fine you."
   "Thank you."
   "No problem." He smiled, plopping down beside me. "How are you?"
   "I'm okay. I don't fit in."
   "You don't have to."
   "But it'd be nice."
   "Look, you're new to LA and you're a pretty, intelligent, creative woman. I'm sure you'll make new friends soon. You haven't even been in town a full week; don't give up hope."
   "I'm hopeful." I smiled at him. "Do I come off as a depressed teenager; I don't mean to."
   "I don't think you do, I just think you're overwhelmed, trying to find out who you are."

   "I am." I agreed. "I'm glad you understand."
   "I try to."
   "You look handsome."
   "Thank you, I am rather dashing aren't I?" He asked, chuckling, as his eyes shone bright. They were gorgeous lakes, I want to get lost in them. I looked at him sharp jawline, his masculine, yet seemingly gentle features.
   "Haha, you are."
   "I like your..." He pointed to his eyelids.
   "Eyeshadow?"
   "Yeah; that's it." He smiled.
   "I thought I applied too much, made myself look like a cross dressing prostitute."
   "...I wasn't thinking that." He cautiously said, glancing towards the side. I'd made the situation uncomfortable; hadn't I? 

   "You're a good liar." I smirked, pushing back a strand of my hair. "And a good friend, Delilah and everyone are lucky."

   "Aren't you lucky, then, too?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "Well, if they're lucky that I'm their friend and I'm your friend too, then wouldn't you be lucky?"

   "You're my..." I smiled. I hadn't ever really had a friend like him, it was nice being able to have someone who I could just talk to.

   "You should smile more. It's a nice smile; the world deserves to see it."

   "You're so charming; it truly is hard to bear, ya know?"

   "Oh, you'll learn to bear it, don't worry. Everyone else has."

   "I'm not like everyone else, though. I'm not all grown up and equipped to talk about adult things like morgages and loans and the stock market and preschool."

   "Don't worry about being like us. We've got a decade on you, you'll learn, you'll be prepared when you get to that stage. Right now you need to let loose, make mistake,s be a teenager."

   "It's hard; I feel guilty, if I do. I need to be composed for Anderosn and Delilah. I need to make sure she doesn't think that I'm a burden."

   "You aren't."

   "Part of me knows that, part of me doesn't... Xavier, thank you for finding me, but if you want to go be adultish, I'm probably going to walk home, thank you, though, for listening."

   "Any time. I like listening... And you shouldn't go."

  "I'm tired." I shrugged, smiling slightly, then wider when I realised he thought my smile was nice, perhaps even pretty.

   "I'll walk with you. The city at night, well, certain areas aren't the best."

   "Thank you." I didn't feel guilty for taking him away from everyone; I was surprised. I liked him, I liked his mentality, I like being with him and the idea of him walking with me, protecting me from the city, in a way, was comforting.

   We stood up and walked towards the door, I wondered whether or not I should tell Delilah, but from the racket and the strong stench of alcohol that she was emitting, I assumed she'd either figure it out or be too drunk to remember she brought me along. Xavier helped me figure out which way to go; I thought I knew where I resided, but apparently I'd forgotten, or at the very least had overestimated my memory. The air was chilly, neither of us had a jacket, and I didn't want to say anything, in case he thought I was attempting to hit on him.

   "What's that?" I asked, gesturing towards a large truck that was lit up like a Christmas tree.

   "A food truck.Terrance's Tacos. They make some of the best Tex-Mex cuisine around; you should try it... In fact, are you hungry?" 

   "I..." Yes, but the idea of ordering food from someone from a truck at a dimly lit street corner unnerved me. "Is food from trucks decent?"

   "Decent; it's unfathomably delicious. Did the Virgin Islands not have food trucks?"

   "No." I confessed. "Or at least, the Isla Paridiso portion didn't."

   "Here." He said, feeling his pockets for his wallet, presumably. "We'll get you an everything but the kitchen sink taco."

   "Interesting name. I think I have a few dollars on me." I felt my hips, then realised I didn't have pockets; my wallet was at home.

   "No, no I- dammit. Left my wallet at the bar."

   "Do you need to get it? I can walk home on my own, or-"

   "No, no. I'll walk you home, then go back. We'll have to get tacos later."

   "Promise?" I teased.

   "Promise."

   "You better keep that promise, you don't lie to a girl who loves food about tacos."

   "Don't worry." He chuckled, as we began strolling once more. "Cut through here; I know a short cut."

   "Are you sure?" 

   "Yeah, yeah." I faithfully followed him though the alleyway, glancing around nervously.

   "BANG!" The noise frightened me; what areas were we casually passing through?

   "Xavier..." I murmured, pointing towards a hooded figure with an object that looked strikingly similar to a pistol.

   "If I say run, run." He whispered back.

   "Aren't you suppose to freeze?"

   "I think that's with black bears... Maybe grizzly bears."

   "Huh. Really? Coulda sworn it was-"

   "Gimme your valuables and nobody will get hurt!" A high pitched, squeaky voice demanded. It would have been hilarious, if it wasn't for the fact that a gun was being pressed to Xavier's temporal lobe.

   "Unholy, satan worshipping gummy bears." I shouted, wanting to break down in tears. I had no valuables; my jewellery was all coustume. Was the mugger going to murder Xavier? What the hell was I suppose to do? Comply would probably be the best, but Xavier was stubborn and overly protective and too gentlemanly and kind to let a mugger, or anyone, push me of force me to do something I wasn't alright with; I'd barely known him for twelve solid hours, yet I'd already picked up on that.

   "RUN!" I heard him shout and I did; I was going to question him, I ran, even throwing in a few zigzags because I couldn't remember if that's what you do when someone has a gun or you're trying to lose a bee. I ran and I ran and I didn't stop until I got home and dialled Delilah, screaming for her to come home because Xavier had to be okay and she needed to come home and why, why, why had this occurred.

This is not a chapter, just apartment pics

   Heeeey guys! So I have finals all this week (boo) and then I get a four day weekend (yay), but I'm going on a family trip (also yay, unless... well it could be boo-ish, depends on whether or not the dynamics are smoothed out by then), so I've been a tad busy. Just a tad. In case you didn't put two and two together (the title + the I've been busy thing), I haven't had time to write (boo), but I did take pictures of Delilah's apartment and would like to say a HUGE, HUGE thank you to everyone you helped this blog reach 27, 000 views. That's insane; I didn't think I'd get 7,000, much less 27,000. Without further ado, here are the pictures:

The first floor of the apartment/living room.

Second floor, Delilah's bedroom:

Second floor, Phoebe's bedroom (ignore Delilah in there):

Second floor, bathroom:

Second floor, Anderson's bedroom/nursery (once again, disregard the Sims in the pic):

Second floor, dining room/kitchen area:

9.2 Part One: Art Supplies and Xavier

 

 "Are you sure you're okay by yourself?" She asked, concern filling her eyes.

   "Yeah, course. I'm not a little kid."

   "I know… I'd stay longer if I could, but schools starting and I don't have any vacation time left." Delilah, who worked as an elementary school art teacher, had taken the last week off. Original she'd meant to go to the Virgin Islands and stay the full week with dad, but since that hadn't exactly worked out, she'd spent the week showing me around Los Angelus. I'd seen all the sites, been to the beach, Disneyland,  all the tourist-y attractions Delilah could name, we'd gone to.

   "Andy and I will be fine, won't we?" I asked he toddler, who was still adapting to his new surroundings.

   "Yeah, yeah, Deli, we good."

   "Okay then…" She sighed, turning to walk down the stairs, towards our front door.

   Delilah Alice Rosewood-Janes lived in a two story apartment that use to be the city's fire department and now was home to four lovely two bedroom, one bathroom apartments, because of course she loved the hipster vibe it sent of. We had to use what use to be Delilah's sculpting area for Anderson bedroom. She was not an organized tidy person; the home wasn't dirty, she just this peculiar decor style that made it look like she didn't have enough space for everything she collected. Her bedroom. Despite belonging to a thirty year old, looked like it was property of someone a decade younger, she was stuck in this perpetual state of early-twenties mentality, a bit like sitcom characters were.

   "Whatcha wanna do?" I asked Anderson.

   "Pahk, pahk!" He exclaimed. He always wanted to go to the park.

   "Not today, we went yesterday."

   "Moo-e-um."

   "The LA Children's Museum isn't open today."

   "Boo boo, Fee-Fee."

   "I know." I sighed. "Boo boo, Fee-Fee. She's trying, though."

   "I tired."

   "Okay." I picked him up. "Nappy time?"

   "Yeah, yeah." I walked over to his bedroom and gently placed him in the crib. I kissed the top of his head. "Nappy time, brother!" I turned my iPod on, picking the baby's quiet time playlist, and placed it on the changing table. 

   "Bye, bye, Fee-Fee." He yawned, closing his eyes.

   I exited his bedroom quietly, not sure what I was going to do. A few months ago I was focused on getting good grades and drawing classrooms from school, friends' bedrooms, or even my own, only in the drawings the decor was much more modern and lavish. Ever since I was a young child I loved decorating rooms; the home I was renting in Isla Paradiso was rather small compared to what I was use to, however it was my own, and I got to decorate how I wanted to, so it was wonderful. I loved having that sense of pride about my decor choices... If only my budget was larger.

   I loaded the dishwasher with the breakfast utensils and plates, then wandered downstairs. I could paint a bit, maybe design and decorate another room, but I didn't have any canvases or sketch paper or charcoal pencils or oil paints. Delilah probably had some is a hidden crevices of the apartment, she did have an easel- it would seem rather silly to not have the proper supplies you need in order to use it. If I were to go to the art store, I'd need to change; I was wearing a raggedy pair of sweatpants, Delilah's purple, shrunken t-shirt, old flip flops, I hadn't bothered applying makeup, and my hair was a failed messy top knot catastrophe- I was far from presentable.

   The couch looked enticing, so I plopped myself down upon it and picked up the remote. I turned on the television, flipping through the channels. Nothing was on, except for cruddy reality shows, soap operas, and infomercials. Daytime TV sucks. I needed to find myself a hobby, ASAP; defiantly start interior decorating my drawings again. I landed on a random channel, sighing. Maybe I would take a nap… Anderson started crying at two am because he thought he say a monster and refused to go back into his room until it was bright and sunny at eight. I was about to close my eyes, when someone knocked, an ear splitting knock, on the door.

   "I wonder who it is." I mumbled, glancing down at my clothes. Hopefully nobody important. It was probably Delilah, who forgot her bicycle helmet. I stood up, carefully opening the door.

   "Hey, Delilah, I- uh. Hello?" A carrot haired man smiled, pausing when he realized I was not the violet haired Delilah.

   "Hi, I'm Phoebe Janes, I'm Del-"

   "You're the step-kid, huh? The one who the meet up tonight is for?"

   "Yeah. Step-kid… It's so weird, we just kinda seem like friends, ya know? And, uh, what meet up?"

   "Crap! I think it was suppose to be a secret surprise thing."

   "Well, the secret's out now… might as well tell me." I smiled, looking up at him with large eyes. I probably didn't look very convincing, considering my current state, but it didn't hurt to try.

   "Basically, Delilah arranged for all her close friends, me, Carly, Beth, GiGi, Hannah, Zachary, to meet up at her favorite club for drinks and dancing and she was planning on introducing you to us."

   "Drinks? Dancing?" I asked. I didn't have a ton, or any, experience with parties and group outings; I was fairly certain that clubs weren't my scene, especially with Delilah's six closet friends. 

   "Obviously nothing alcoholic for you, but yep. When she tells you, act surprise, okay?"

   "Yeah, sure. Thanks for telling me… I dunno if I'll go."

   "Oh, c'mon, Phoebe. Delilah planned the whole thing for you, people took off work, hired babysitters, might as well show up. Hey, you might even have fun in your first LA club."

   "I… okay. But only because I don't want Delilah to think I'm taking advantage of her and don't appreciate her efforts."

   "See? That's the spirit. Now, I came by to drop off this book, anyways she said she needed it returned yesterday, but when I stopped by she wasn't here."

   "Yeah, she was out of the country... Right now she's at work, but I can give it to her, tell her that… what's your name? I don't think you ever introduced yourself."

   "Oh, I didn't? I'm sorry, how rude. I'm Xavier Tenant." He smiled, sticking out his hand, which I gladly shook. 

   "Nice to meet you."

   "Likewise. Well, I don't want to keep you from doing whatever you're doing."

   "Yeah, I-"

   "Harder! Harder, oh baby, I'm about to c-" The actress on television exclaimed, as the image of two very naked, very attractive people, the female was entangled with the male; this was not the channel I meant to land on, nor was it appropriate at nine-twenty-four in the morning.

   "Oh my gosh! I didn't, I wasn't watching, I picked a random, don't-" I scrambled for the remote, turning to a hopefully more appropriate station.

   "Don't worry." He smirked as my cheeks turned crimson. "Well, I should let you get back to your porn."

   "What?! No, I, I wasn't-"

  "I'm teasing, sorry. That happens to all of us at one time or another,"

   "Really?"

   "Nope, just you. I was trying to comfort you… did it work?"

   "Up until you said that, sorta."

   "Ah, well, dammit. Someone, Delilah actually, told me ever since the satanist vet name Verona incident, I've lost my dashing charm the lovely ladies love and am now I've just got my wits and quirky, awkward paleness. Figured I'd test her hypothesis on you; apparently it's true, I have lost my way with the ladies."

   "I-I, uh, but I'm not lovely." My blush deepened and not because of the television. Xavier was… he was interesting, he was one of Delilah's friends, so he had to be at least a decade older than me, but still he had this peculiar honesty and boyish smile that created an attractive mix of misguided humor and approachable charm. Still; I shouldn't be blushing over the first man who ever bothered complimenting me, besides it wasn't even me he was complimenting, he was just being polite so he could test what Delilah said.

   "Ridiculous." He smiled. "That's ridiculous." He paused for a moment as I looked up into his dark, greenish bluesy eyes. "Here's your book, honestly, I shouldn't be keeping you any longer than needed. Thanks for giving it to her."

   "You're, um, you're welcome. Bye." I took the book and turned, glancing at the cover. Artistic Expression: What Picasso's Color Schemes Really Meant. It was an art book; maybe, maybe he was an artist. Maybe he knew of a decent art store where I could buy a sketch pad and pencils. "Wait!" I exclaimed, throwing open my door. "Er, uh, may I ask you a question?"

   "Sure." He smiled, turning away from the elevator he was waiting on. 

   "Do you know where a good art supply shop is? I saw the book and thought maybe, you know. You were an artist or something."

   "I'm not, but I do."

   "Great, I'll get a pen, if you could please write down the address, that woul-"

   "I could take you there, if you wanted. I don't go into work until an hour from now, anyways."

   "Thanks, but I've got to watch my brother, Anderson. He's three."

   "Oh, yeah. I think Delilah mentioned a kid or something. Delilah and toddlers; ha, never thought that would happen!"

   "Is she anti-kid?"

   "She loves kids, but not the idea of motherhood. I think she feels guilty about her parents' divorce, like she thinks she caused it, but whatever." He shrugged. "You know, you can hire a sitter. Hannah and her husband's for their two month old's pretty good, plus she doesn't need any notice."

   "But, I look like a mess."

   "Nah. Besides, everyone's at work; nobody would see you."

   "Okay... Will you call the sitter?"

   "Yes, m'lady." A few short minutes later, I had lectured the sitter on how to properly care for Anderson, than Xavier and I were standing awkwardly in the elevator together. 

   "So, uh, how did you meet Delilah?" I failed at small talk; I didn't care about the weather or sports and I wasn't up to date on American politics, that was the only relevant question I could think of.

   "College, grad school. See, her and I, as well as our five other friends, who you will meet tonight, all have master's in education."

   "Oh, cool. So, you're a teacher?"

   "Nah. My parents really wanted me to be, so I humored them and got the master's, but my two bachelor's are in computer science and accounting. I wanted to be an accountant; how lame of a teenager was I?"

   "I don't think it's lame… so whatcha do?"

   "I work for a company that teaches other companies how to use financial software. It's not what I want, but it's something." He shrugged. "So, what do you want to do?"

  "Interior decorating, but after my parents... After the thing happened, my plans changed I dunno. I don't want to leave Anderson, but I want to do something. I guess right now I'm content decorating rooms on a sketch pad."

   "Hey, you don't have to know what you wanna do. I'm twenty-nine and I'm not sure if I should suck it up and take the benefits my current job has or melodramatically quit and hope someone's in desperate need of an accountant and will also pay me what I'm currently making, if not more."

   "I'll keep that in mind." I smiled. "Thanks for taking me."

   "Oh, now problem." The elevator dinged open and we stepped out, into the lobby, than out into the street. He hailed a cab, then we were off, off to the art store.

SIM'S RELATED NOTE: So Phoebe is in LA now- wow! I moved her to a CC world, because I don't like the Showtime world, whatever it is named, and no, they aren't in Angel City or Las Anegios, gorgeous player made worlds, they were too much for my computer to handle. Instead I'm playing in Evansdale County by the lovely folks over at My Sims Realty, you can download the wonderful world here- trust me, it's a nice sized world that even moderately adequate computers like mine can handle. However the fire station is not by MSR, I remodeled the it myself, so if you want me to upload it (it has CC), just tell me and I will. 

MY ACTUAL LIFE RELATED NOTE: I wrote chapter 8.16 to here on a road trip my parents insisted I go on, because family time. The trip was fun, we climbed a mountain, than ate ravioli from Trader Joe's. I got the leftovers and am currently eating lemon ravioli and also truffle ravioli, dipped in garlic hummus. It is an interesting, but good, IMHO, combonation. Also, if you haven't tried cookie butter, you need to! It's delicious and I should stop typing before this Sims legacy blog turns into a food blog. Oh! Oh! And, I had fall break this week, yay, but school begin's Monday, so updates may be more scattered. I dunno. Anyways, I appreciate you reading.

9.1: Flying to LA

   "Good bye house." I said it was the end of the month and I had informed my landlord that I was moving out; he told me just to leave the key underneath the doormat with this month's rent. It didn't seem like the most intelligent plan, but I was in no mood to argue- I just wanted to get out as soon as possible.

   "Bye, bye homie." Andy waved to the house, as I picked him up. All the furniture came with the home, other than the clothes, food, toys, linens and crib and baby swing, which was already on some plane being shipped to LA, there was nothing for me to pack up.

   "We're going to go to the airport." I said to him.

   "C'mon, Pho!" I heard Delilah call from the from passenger seat of the cab. "We have to be at the airport in twenty minute a in order to make it through security in time."

   "Alright..." I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. Here was something surreal about leaving the only city you'd ever lived in. Despite the pain and panic associated with Isla Paradiso, it was still my home and the Virgin Islands was still my county. I opened the cab's door to see that Delilah had already fastened the carseat into it. I strapped Andy in, then I hopped around to the other side, climbed in, and buckled myself in.

   "Deli not got seatbelt!" Anderson called out, pointing towards his step-mommy.

   "Phoebe." She whispered. "They're so uncomfortable! Do I have to wear it?"

   "Yeah." I nodded. "Set a good example for him."

   "Safety first!" She exclaimed in an overly chipper tone, as she buckled her seatbelt. "I'll have to get use to this example s-hhheet."

   "Nice save." I smirked. "Airport, please." I said to the cabbie, who began driving.

   "It's refreshing seeing lesbian co-parents adopt. I don't understand why people get so torn up about it."

   "We're not lesbians..." I said. "Or at least, I'm not."

   "Uh, neither am I. Not that there's anything wrong with that... She's, uh, she's my- nope. Can't say it."

   "Step-daughter. There."

   "Really?!" The cabbie exclaimed. "Are you sure you aren't sisters? Is the little man there her step-grandson?"

   "He's my brother." I said. 

   "Okay..." The cabbie glanced from Delilah into the mirror at Anderson and me. "I'm sure family reunions are fun."

   "I'm only thirty." Delilah quickly said. "She's eighteen, he's three."

   "He didn't ask." I said. 

   "I know. It just- I mean, c'mon. You're way too young for me, even if I was a lesbo."

   "Isn't lesbo offensive?"

   "I dunno. I don't mean it to be."

   "Yeah, well, I'm fairly certain it is."

   "Why are you parenting me? I should be parenting you."

   "Leh-Bo!" Andy exclaimed, smiling and clapping. "Leh-Bo, leh-Bo, leh-Bo."

   "Look what you did."

   "Me?" She innocently gasped. "You repeated it."

   "Yeah, well you're the mom."

   "Don't you dare call me that word."

   "Mommy, mommy, mommy." He said, pointing to her.

   "Haha." I chuckled. "Wow..."

   "Can I ground him?"

   "He's three."

   "True... Can I ban him from watching Sesame Street?" 

   "I don't let him watch TV."

   "Really? Are you like one of those lame, superstitious child raisers?"

   "Child raiser?"

   "Well parent implies that you birthed him, had some part in his conception, or a romantic relationship with someone who did."

   "Ah, well, I'm just trying my best. I figured he's already going to be a rebellious, angst filled teenager who goes through therapists like a toddler goes through crayons, I don't need to make him worse."

   "Aww... He won't be like that. Look at his chubby little cheeks and curls. He'll be fine."

   "Do you know the stereotypical personas available for kids whose parents died when they were young? There's only one and it's the rebel goth one."

   "Anderson, promise Delilah you won't be like that." She turned to face him and said it with a huge smile on her face, like she was telling him he could have lolly pops and cotton candy instead of mashed peas and chicken for dinner.

   "What Deli, me what?"

   "Aw... Promise me you will be an angel."

   "Mama, sissy, daddy angels. Me be goodie."

   "Yes. You be goodie."

   "We're here." The cab driver said.

   "Thanks." I said, unbuckling Anderson and exiting the car. Delilah tossed him a twenty and exited as well. We began towards the building, as Andy smiled and clapped and pointed wildly at he planes that were coming and going.

   "I wonder…" She began, then she paused. 

   "You wonder?" I curiously asked.

   "I… He thought we were lovers or sisters or that Andy was your kid. Will people always be like that?"

   "I dunno. I've never been to California; I don't know how the people are."

   "Interesting… very, well, interesting." She opened the door and I stepped inside. The noise of the hustle and bustle of busy travelers filled my ears as I tried to keep Anderson calm.

   "Loud! No, no, they shh, shh." He looked like he was on the verge of a meltdown. I'd never taken him in an incredibly loud or crowded place before, clearly he wasn't reacting well.

   "Aw, honey, it'll be okay." Delilah cooed to him. "This is an airport! Yay."

   "No, no." He said, as he began flailing his arms, tears streaming down his teeny tiny cheeks.

   "Oh boy." I muttered. "This is going to be a long flight.