Kathleen ~ Van McCann

20

Van pulls into the driveway of my old house and I spot the cardboard box still on the porch. I didn't think anyone would actually steal it, but it's still a relief to actually see them.

"I'll go grab them," I say, unbuckling my seatbelt and hopping out of the car. Van nods his head and I shut the car door before walking up to the porch.

I open the box to make sure all my supplies are inside. I definitely don't want to have to come back here again because I forgot something. I see my folder with my pictures, camera, stand, and cords. Once I know I have everything, I carry the box back to the car.

•~~~~~~

"You got everything?" Van asks when I get back in.

"Mhm," I hum, putting the box on the floor of the car by my feet. "Time for hangover food," I say, excitedly. I'm always in the mood for food.

Van laughs. "Hangover food isn't nearly as good when you're sober, I'll have you know," he says.

"It's still food, so I'll eat it," I smile. Van chuckles and pulls out of the driveway, making his way to the grocery store.

"You have a point there, I'll give you that," he says.

•~~~~~

Van and I walk into the grocery store and I immediately am reminded of the last time I was in here. It was only a few days ago, but it feels like months. That was the same day I met Van, but it seems like I have known him so much longer.

"Anything you want, Kat?" He asks, grabbing a basket from the stack.

"Nothing in particular," I shrug. I've never really been a picky eater. And my mom never let me choose what to get at the store. It was always exactly what was on her list, or it had to come out of my pocket. There was no way I'd waste money on groceries a few days ago when I thought I would need my own apartment.

"Okay, well, when you see something you like, let me know," Van says. "Maybe we can stop in the pet isle and grab some cat treats," he jokes, nudging my shoulder.

"Oh god, if 'cat' jokes become a thing, I'm going to make you start calling me Kathleen again," I threaten him.

"Fine, no cat jokes. I'll find something better to make fun of you for," he says with a smile.

"Anything except for cat jokes would be acceptable," I tell Van as we walk down the isle with snacks. "Ooh, lets get Oreos!" I say, rather loudly, as we approach the different types of cookies. My mom never let me get Oreos since they were too expensive when compared to the other cookies.

"Alright, Miss 'nothing in particular'" Van laughs, grabbing a couple more boxes after I already put one in the basket.

"Well, I didn't know that we'd be passing the cookie section," I sass.

"Fair enough," Van says. "What do you think Bondy would want?" He asks while throwing a few random snacks into the cart as we walk down the isle.

"I'm not sure. You've dealt with hungover Bondy a lot more than I have," I admit. I wasn't even sure what typical 'hangover foods' were. I've never had that problem before.

"That's true. I guess I should give you the 'Bondy food rundown' since you'll be dealing with him a lot," he says. "He likes really anything with sugar. A lot of sugar." He grabs some donuts from the self. "He'll enjoy your Oreos too."

"Only if I share them with him," I joke. "I need all the sugar I can get. I haven't had Oreos in ages."

"You don't need any sugar at all. You're already sweet enough," Van winks at me.

I roll my eyes at his cheesy compliment. "I refuse to thank you for something like that," I tell him.

Van shrugs and wraps his arm around my waist. "That's not gonna stop me from saying stuff like that," he says, kissing the top of my head.

•~~~~~

Van and I walk into the apartment. He was carrying four bags and I was carrying my photography stuff and one bag.

Bondy was still laying down, but he was now awake. So were the other lads. "Benji said you got food?" Bondy asks, titling his head back so he can see us.

"Yeah," Van says. He places his bags down on the counter. "Got you some donuts, as usual. Some other snacks are in here, too."

Bondy, dressed in red and black plaid pants and a T-shirt, rushes over. "Donuts?" He says, enthusiastically.

"Told you he'd be all over anything with sugar," Van says to me. "Come on, now. I wanna see those photos of yours." He points attention photography box while grabbing a donut from the box.

"Fine. You're so nosy, ya know?" I say hesitantly. I hope he won't think my photos are stupid.

"So what? That's the best quality a man could have," Van shrugs his shoulders jokingly. "Let me help you with that and we can head upstairs." He grabs my camera and tripod which were laying on the top of the box with my other stuff in it. 

"Thanks," I say. I never realized how heavy a tripod and camera could be until someone took them away from me. "Don't drop them, please."

"No promises," he replies. I follow him upstairs to his bedroom.

He places my things on his desk when we arrive inside his room. "We'll have to find a better home for your gear later, but this'll do for know, no?" He says.

"Yup. That's fine," I say.

I sit on the bed and pull out the three books I had which were filled with all my photos.

Van hops onto the bed next to me, his body sprawled across the covers. "Impress me; show me your art," he says. I open my first book and watch his face, wanting to see his immediate reaction.

A smile grows on his lips. "These are amazing, Kat," he compliments my work. The photos he was looking at were of my dad. "I love how you made something as basic as doing the dishes into a whole masterpiece."

"Thanks, Van," I say. I lay down and move closer to Van. He wraps one arm around me and continues flipping through the book with his other hand.