Plié and Clout

Chapter 23: Apparently A Super Nice Guy

hi, this is a really mfing long chapter, I should probably split it up but I want to get this whole thing published before I graduate

music or something: 'Not my Fault', and 'Home' by The Chase

-rabid

***

AUGUST

I was fucking right. He lives on Thatcher Street. Steph drives a fancy-ass car and lives on Thatcher Street. He's got money. I don't know how, but he's got money.

He takes the car into an underground parking garage. It's a twelve-story building, and when we get into the elevator, he presses eleven. He's not even in the small housing at the bottom.

I swear this isn't gold-digging, this is just me being incredibly fucking impressed.

"Straight up, huh?" He offers to carry the food and I hand it to him.

"Straight up." He nods. "I really hope I washed all the dishes." He's nervous and it's cute. I definitely didn't think about it that hard when I brought him to my apartment.

We stand in the elevator for about thirty seconds before it dings to let us off. There are four doors on this floor. All near to the elevator shaft. This center room isn't huge, but it's definitely a nice entryway for the four people that live here.

He wiggles a key out of his pocket and pushes open the door to an apartment.

I'm a little stunned at first, not that many apartments have mudrooms. Steph takes off his hat and kicks off his shoes. I untie mine, looking through the glass to the body of the apartment. There's a living room straight ahead, a kitchen to the side, a hall down the right, and a pretty awesome looking deck with a table.

"Do you have to shovel the deck?" I ask.

He shrugs, pulling open the door to the main room. "We'll find out." I follow him, looking down the hall. Two bedrooms.

"Dunno, this looks clean to me." I laugh as he's unpacking the food. I wander into the kitchen with him, and he hands me chopsticks. I pick up my box and then stand there, waiting for him to decide where we sit.

He hesitates, but we end up at the barstools at the island. I'm still looking around. There's a hockey stick leaning up against the wall by the door, but that's the only hockey in here.

"So I know you work for the city, but I don't know what you do." He takes a bite and looks at me, chewing.

I swallow. "I'm on the environmental team for the province." He looks a little confused so I keep talking. "I work on getting parts of the province under protection and endangered species protection, designations for the road work that has to be done, basically the preservation team."

"So, how did you, a girl from Truro, end up out here?"

I shrug. "I went to college in Saskatoon."

"Why?"

"Well, first off, my mom's Canadian and she went there, second, I really liked the school."

He nods. "Alright, yeah, that makes more sense than 'oh you know, I just thought I'd go to University of Saskatoon, not a Boston area college, you know, for shits and giggles' because I'd be a little worried if you just up and decided to yeet the hell out here to freezerland."

"Now this is when I get to ask you how the hell you ended up out here."

He smiles. "I got traded."

"Like sports?"

"Basically. They needed more of my position out here, so they traded me and Rocket with another guy from here and bingo."