Chapter Seventeen - Splurge

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splurge
noun
1. an act of spending money freely or extravagantly
Verb
1. spend (money) freely or extravagantly

"Oh my world, girl you have a nasty habit of saying too much." Grant is helping me out of the car and locking it as we walk to Posh mall entrance from the parking garage.

"Oh, no. There is plenty more where that came from, but I can't tell you that because then our relationship would definitely not be on an even keel. I know some crazy shit, done some crazy shit, and know some crazy shitters." I nod my head when he turns around to look back at me, walking backwards towards the car park lifts.

"Please, don't ask for more. We're even now. Speaking of even. Have you told your parent's about being gay?" I ask, knowing he hasn't but its time to get the conversation off my sordid future past, and back on to him and our new budding friendship.

"Ah, nope. I don't think that would be a good idea at this point in time. As you know, both my parent's work for the Overmeyers and get paid handsomely by the handsome man."

"Oh yes, he is very handsome. So strange to say that about an older man who is now my step dad." I shake my head as he hums in affirmation.

"My father is a very conservative man and would flip his shit if he knew I wasn't into girls in a conventional way. My mum, I don't know how she'd react."

"She's be shocked but I think she'd come around to support you in what ever you did in life."

"How do you know?" Woops, yeah, I'm not supposed to know anything about his family. I play it off lightly and shrug a shoulder.

"Ahhh... She was so caring and helpful standing up for me last night when Eyva threw her 'practical Joke'..." I give him air marks and roll my eyes to show just what I thought of her stupid 'practical joke'. "Mrs Hepburn has been looking after Eyva, I'm sure, since the girl was born. Why would she stand by me - a perfect stranger - when the mansion princess was crying her iddy widdle heart out?" I shrug again. "Your mum is like Judge Judy and Martha Steward, all rolled into one. I like her. A lot."

"Yeah, she is exactly just like you describe her." He nods and has a think about what that means for him and his coming-out-of-the-closet situation.

"Sooo..." I segue into another topic. "Where to find hot mama school clothes that don't make me look like an anime character or a hooker?" I ask him, changing the subject.

"This way, my lady." He pointed dramatically towards a row of clothing shops and we begin our shopping spree.

Four hours later and I've managed to find five new sets of clothing from mid to high range branded stores that are a little sporty, a little chic, a lotta expensive, but understated. None of the labels are obvious, but they are all label brands. Some famous sports shoes and flats, and I'm good to go.

"Ohhh, this is so much work, I'm so tired, Grant. Please carry me to the next store, or to the coffee shop. I need a break." My little girl act is making him laugh, and we all like a laughing Grant. His happy sounds are so contagious.

"I think between what you already have and your previous wardrobe, you should have enough to start your week. How about we call it a day and I take you home." His suggestion is spot on, but I'd just come across a store that sells high end hair products.

"Oh, I need some new conditioner for my super curly hair. Can we do this one last stop?"

"How about this. I'll take all your bags to the car and come back for you then take you out to a cafe here in the mall that has best coffee barista in the whole of Mt Sommers city?"

"Oooh, coffee, sounds good. See you soon." I wave him off and turn into the store for a much need conditioner top up. A moment later I hear jeering coming from outside the store and find a few guys, jocks from the new school, giving Grant a hard time. His face is hard and he looks professional. He nods to them as he passes on by and takes the escalator down to the floor closest to the parking garage.

As I worry about him, I watch him move safely away from the trouble makers who are obviously second general rich kids with too much time on their hands. When I can't see my friend any more, I move away from the store front and look for my new favourite brand of conditioner, now that I can afford it.

Where is my money coming from, you may ask? Like I said, I had savings put away for a car and for college, nearly six grand, which really doesn't go far these days. My father's will was read last week and money released form trust will be available in the next few weeks as well. But you know how those things go. They have to break his trust money out of long term investment before they can pay out to any beneficiaries.

However, I have managed to sell a few things last week, with my mum's permission of course. They were mostly trinkets and old antiques from the house that dad had collected over the years. Some of my old jewellery from his parent's and a few signed sports paraphernalia that I was keeping for a rainy day. In total, with my savings, it all came to just shy of eight thousand dollars.

After my gift buying last week, I've spent another grand today so I should be financially flush to begin my new business venture if I don't spend anything else. The trust money will amount to another twenty grand, which should be spent on university, but its going to become my business start-up funds.

"Just this please," I hand over the expensive vanilla scented shampoo and conditioner and the store sales lady rings it up. I pull out my bank card and stare at it until the lady clears her throat. I hand it over with the promise of not spending any more. Its going to take everything else I have to pay for the programming for my new app. The hacker slash programmer I have in mind wont do it for free. He'll expect a down payment as well so from now on, I'm strapped. My pep talk to myself helps keep me positive while I collect my last shopping items and head out of the store.

"Faggot. Who gave you the permission to step your filth in this place. Go home queer boy." The nasty words being almost shouted caught my attention as soon as I left the store. The four or five rich jocks from school have Grant cornered near the top of the escalator as he's ascended. His face shows fear that he is trying to hide, but it sets my teeth on edge and a rage I haven't felt in over a year erupts from within me, colouring everything in red.

"Mother fracker!"

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