Semua Bab Boys of RDA: Bab 161 - Bab 170

A soggy Cheerio falls from my spoon and lands perfectly in the middle of a giant heart on my Dragons Reborn inspired leggings. I doubt Finn, or the company that now owns his popular video game, gave them permission to make leggings based on his characters, but the dragons flying around the pixelated hearts were too good to pass up. Drew calls them my crazy cat lady pants because rather than grow old with one hundred cats he thinks I'll be the little old lady playing online video games in my nursing home.Sounds like a good plan to me.The man in question lumbers down the stairs like an elephant that saw a mouse. Framed pictures on the wall shake as he turns into the kitchen. His footsteps slow long enough to grab a granola bar from the box he continuously leaves on the counter. He exits from the other side of the kitchen, and we both throw up a hand in a silent wave as he passes me and heads for the front door."Later!" he yells on his way out.I don't bother yelling back as th

Someone has pizza.The smell trickles in through my opened door and my nose perks up. It's not uncommon for one of the kids to use their extra money to eat dinner here. It's a safer space than what many of them go home to. What is totally unfair is the fact it's against regulations for me to eat any of their pizza. During the school year I eat dinner here most nights, but over the summer I try to make it home. It means by four o'clock my stomach would consider ingesting anything in sight...or smell.I should get up and leave my office, but I can't will my legs to move. I like to spend my last hour with the kids before I hand over the operation of this place to John, the evening help I hired thanks to the successful fundraiser the RDA girls held in April. We're mostly volunteer supported but free people aren't always reliable. It's nice to have someone.Of course I can't leave now. If I go out there, I worry I'll finish up whatever cheesy goodness is left. My stomach uses the thou

"This is a horrible idea," I yell to Aspen as she walks through the doorway into the darkness.My words are lost in the rhythmic thumping of music playing over the speakers propped up throughout the warehouse. I'm twenty-four. That's four years too old to be at this party.A rave.A Friday night rave.Plus, what if I see one of the kids from the center? There isn't a logical reason for me to explain it away. What would I say? Official beer tester?"This is a horrible idea!" I yell into the open expanse since no one heard me the first time.I'm jostled as Marissa puts two hands on my shoulder bumping into me. "This is a great idea!"My eardrums throb, but I yell back. "I do not belong at a rave."She laughs using a finger to point at her ear signaling she can't hear me. "Okay isn't a rave, it's the hottest new dance club in town."She walks toward the floor leaving me alone to ponder who in their right mind names a club Okay. And dance club my ass. We're at a rave. I g

"I can't believe you took the time and materials to build your outer walls of smooth stone." Grant stops his character's movements to admire my work.The smooth stone towering high in the sky sparkles in the light. Some people paint. I build castles in online games. It's my masterpiece. I don't mind him appreciating the work."Why? What's yours made from?" I've heard about this huge castle Grant and the guys are so proud of."Cobblestone. The building block of all good castles."I laugh and take my character off the staircase to the second floor. "You mean the building blocks of all lazy castle builders.""How long did it take you?"I stop my character and bite off a piece of the turkey sandwich room service dropped off five minutes ago. "Months. Maybe longer. I made the structure out of cobblestone and then replaced each block as more smooth stone became available."I'm not sure if my dedication to this castle shows my good work ethic — I quarried the stone myself over m

The stark white ceiling is too bright. Do hotel staff repaint it every year? It wouldn't surprise me if they did. The bright morning sun reflects off the white surface. The thick curtains used by normal people to block out the morning light hang open and I roll over to try and hide from the sunny rays. My stomach rumbles as I bury my head in the pillow.If I didn't know better, I'd think I had a hangover.But all the choices I made last night were with a straight head. The vodka I consumed earlier in the evening had burned out of my system long before we reached this hotel room. If I'm suffering from a hangover, it's the emotional kind.Grant pulls on the covers, and a short snore escapes between his lips as he rolls further away. The loss of his body steals my warmth with him. I'm too old to continue playing this game. What in the hell am I doing in Grant Moore's hotel room?Again.I roll to my back and stare up at the ceiling resigned to the fact I'm awake.This.This r