Going Back to 505 (Sequel) | Brad Simpson [DISCONTINUED]

1. "Who else would give me a cardboard cutout of Brad Simpson?"

EDIT 01/06/20: Just to let you know, I will no longer be updating this story. If you would like to know why, you can read the author's note I've posted after Chapter 7.

Becky

"That's the last box, Sweetheart" my mum informs me as she plants the final cardboard box filled with my belongings onto the shiny wooden desk whilst I glance around the room I get to call mine for the next nine months or so.

University halls are not known for being the most luxurious form of accommodation and my room is no exception. Basic is the word that springs to mind first. There's a standard single bed in one corner of the room whilst the large wooden desk and matching wardrobe sit opposite. Beneath my feet, the floor is covered by a scratchy blue carpet and the surrounding walls are painted a very plain off-white colour. The rules in the contract state you can't put anything up on the walls but fuck the contract; the sooner I get an abundance of my indie music posters up on there, the better.

"Do you want us to help you unpack anything?" my Dad adds as he leans against my desk and admires the view of London and the traffic below from the window.

"Absolutely not" I laugh as I go and stand next to him. There is no way I am letting either of them try to organise my new room for me. Especially not my control freak of a mother.

"You sure?" I hear my mum ask before she snarkily adds, "I can help you organise your clothes so that they don't end up crumpled on the floor like they normally do"

"Jesus, I just had a flashback to our marriage," my dad says jokingly, making me chuckle and my mum shake her hand.

"I must get my bad habits from you then" I grin at my dad. He grins back.

"Probably"

I turn to look back out of the window at the late afternoon sun illuminating the brick buildings and glass skyscrapers. The view here reminds me of the view from my room back in Tris's flat and it's comforting. I glance down at the street below, taking note of the conveniently placed row of shops on the other side of the street.

"That's handy" my Dad comments, pointing at the Tesco Express tucked further down the street.

"Yeah, at least I don't have to walk that far to get food" I reply.

"I meant you don't have to walk far to get booze" my Dad replies casually, causing a surprised laugh to leave my mouth.

"I'll probably be visiting there often then" I smirk.

"I think she gets her drinking habits from you as well" I hear my Mum comment from behind us.

"I know" my Dad beams at me, "I'm so proud"

I just laugh. Honestly, I should bring my Dad out to freshers' week because he can probably out-drink all the students there.

"What on earth...?"

My Dad and I turn in the direction of my mother's voice to see her holding a large piece of folded up cardboard. I frown in confusion but when she opens it out and we get a better look, I realise exactly what it is. To be honest, I'd forgotten I'd packed it.

I think back to two days ago when Brad gave it to me.

"I've got you a present" Brad grins as we stand in his room, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes that makes me a little suspicious.