it's just going to be random, accept it:
"Hey, Ro," I flop on my bed as she enters the room.
"What were you doing before I came in?" she looks over to the papers scattered on the floor. "Are those," she squints, "love letters?"
"No!" I roll off my bed, falling on the papers. "It's schoolwork," I gather them up before Ro can read them.
"You? Doing schoolwork? So who are they for, your girly-friend?" she teases, picking at her pink nails.
"What do you think?" I mutter.
"I think I'm right."
"When are you not?" I roll my eyes.
"That's a good question."
"Easy to answer too," I tuck the papers back into my drawer.
"You know I know that you hid those in there, right?" she says, conjuring a nail file from her coat.
"Why do you wear that everywhere? You look like an anime character with your cargo sweats and combat boots. Also, the crop top is tacky," I flop back onto my bed.
"Also, the crop top is tacky," she mocks. "I don't give a-"
The door opens abruptly, cutting her off.
"I don't give a," she pauses, trying to find good word, "crap about taking care of your son, Mr. Sencen," she hugs me.
The heck?
"Romhilda, you do not have to act like that in New York," he clicks his fingers on his clipboard. "Keefe," he looks away, "we are moving to New York in three days. Start packing."
"What?!?!?! For how long!?!?!?!"
"A few months, now start packing," he slides to the side and ten people with big boxes walk into my room.
"What?!?!?! Why do I need such big boxes for this?!!?!" I tear a hand through my hair.
"Because we are still moving, whether it's for a long time or not. Besides, when we come back, you'll have way too many souvenirs to fit in two boxes." He turns sharply and exits the room, gesturing for everyone to drop their boxes in a perfect line.
"Thanks, Dad," I mutter, pulling out my phone.
"Ooh, are you texting your girlfriend?" Ro leans over my shoulder.
"Yes, I'm texting my girlfriend!" I yell.
"You okay dude?" she shakes my shoulders and winds up to slap me in the face. "Can I slap you?"
"No!" I push her hand away. "It'll just be for a few months..." I read over my text aloud.
"A heart? What, next you gonna tell her you love her?" Ro gasps.
"I might," I bite my lip, my finger hovering above the 'I'.
"Well do you?" she asks.
"I didn't expect you to get all deep on me!" I put a hand over my chest. "You're totally never hearing the end of this!"
"Whatever, lover boy, just tell me whether you love her or not," she groans.
"Why should I tell you?" I raise an eyebrow. "You've never done anything for me..."
"Is that a joke? Stop changing the subject, DO YOU LOVE HER OR NOTTTT?!?!?!"
"I DON'T KNOW, OKAY?" I shout. Ro's taken aback by my sudden outburst.
"Don't do it then," she leaves the room.
"Wait, but... ugh! It's no use," I slam my phone on the ground.
okay, but there is a time skip:
"Moving day!" Ro chimes from the door.
"Why are you in such a good mood?" I groan, sitting up.
"Because your dad has news!" she grins.
"Bad news," I roll out of bed and grab my phone. I open up my conversation with Fitz.
"Actually, I'm going to need that. Your dad disabled everything except for one thing. You can send one text, then I have to take it. Choose wisely." I open my mouth to argue but then shut it closed, looking to my packed boxes.
I click on Foster's contact.
No.
I go back, tapping furiously on the screen. Fitz.
"Hurry!" Ro taps her foot on the ground.
"Okay, okay," I hand my phone over to her.
"Thank you," she snaps the phone in half.
"What the heck is wrong with you?!?!" I cry. "You could have just traded it in like a normal person!"
"Your dad's not taking any chances. Also, he wants his cologne back," she holds out her hand.
"What?!?! That was the best one yet!" I rush to my bathroom and pull the bottle out of my drawer. "I thought I had him!"
"You did for a while. Now get downstairs, Funkyhair," she gestures down the stairs. I trudge down reluctantly to be greeted by my dad at the bottom.
"Oh great," I mutter.
"Son," he tilts his head up slightly.
"Father," I return.
"We are moving permanently. The shuttle comes in a minute, and I expect you to be ready."
"What?!?!?!?! You can't do this! Please, father, please!"
"We are moving, and that is final. Oh, there's our ride. Ro?" he calls.
"Yes, Mr. Sencen?" she appears behind us, carrying all of my boxes.
"Come now, both of you," he walks out the door, Ro and I trailing behind.
"I'm upset too, Funkyhair," Ro whispers. I smirk, and take a seat in the bus, pulling out my unstarted letters from my pocket. "What are those?"
"Love letters."
Dear Foster,
my dad told me we're moving. I'm telling you first because I think you should be the first one to know. You have been so good to me. I don't know how to repay you.
By the time you see this, (if you ever do) I will be long gone to NY, but I'll never forget you (just pretend I don't have photographic memory). I will cherish every moment I spent with you. I'm sorry I have to leave, but I hope everything works out in the end. Don't feel bad, Foster. I'll see you again.
I promise.
Your beloved,
Keefe
My phone isn't working.
Is this what h-e-double hockey sticks feels like? As I said, my phone isn't working, and I'm stuck in a pile of crap (all of my belongings), and my dad all of my artwork down the toilet. I saved one though.
It's a picture of you that I drew in the beginning of the year. I know it's weird, but the first time I saw you, I knew you were special.
For one, you were the prettiest girl I had ever seen. You still are.
I draw things I like, (okay, that's not entirely true, but...) so I had to do you.
The truth is, Foster, I'm not coming back. After I sent you that message my dad told me it was permanent. He booked me an acting job and his company's headquarters are moving there.
Just like me.
Love,
Boyfriend *wink wink nudge nudge smirkity smirk smirk*
Heyo! It's you boy, Keefe, coming in hot from the airplane! We just passed over somewhere at *glances at nonexistent watch* 4:00 AM.
Yayyyy! Life sucks! I'm stuck in a freaking mask, even though I'm flying first class in my own freaking glass compartment! Like, WHAT?!?!!? I understand, but still... I LITERALLY HAVE DISINFECTANT SPRAY IN HERE! THE HECK!?!?!?!?! CAN'T LIFE BE NORMAL AGAIN?!!??!?! OH MY FREAKING GOD, PEOPLE!!!!!
I MISS YOU SO FREAKING MUCH! MY FREAKING DAD NEEDS TO SUCK A FREAKING EGG!!!
Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes, Ro is with me. Ro says 'hi.'
Okay, she actually said that I should jump out of the plane without a parachute, but that's not the point.
Anyways, I pranked my dad while he was packing. Oh man, the guy's scream is so high pitched! I can't believe it! It was only the fake spider thing too! He totally jumped a mile in the air when he saw it crawling all over his clothes! I have a nice high tech one that is remote controlled, so I could make it move! I made it crawl all over his legs! It was hilarious! Ro even caught it on video! I was going to post it to Instagram, but then I realized there is some great blackmailing potential here.
Oh, this is going to be great!
So how are you, Foster?
Good, good. I'm glad to hear it.
Oh my god, the lady with the food cart just looked at me weirdly.
I think I was talking to myself. I'm going to tell you the truth, I tried to rip up my ticket when we were at the boarding pass. I didn't want it anymore.
I'm sorry again that I didn't tell you the truth.
I'm sorry I was reckless and decided not to tell you. I was so blinded by my sadness that I didn't take into consideration how you would feel. Sometimes I wonder what you did to deserve me.
Have you done something that I'm not aware of?
Murder, possibly?
I don't know what I did to deserve you either. You're so sweet and considerate, while I'm just... me.
Blond boy with daddy issues.
Keefe
Dear Foster,
we made it to NY. I would create a YouTube channel like Biana (but I kind of have to fly under the radar) and make an apartment tour video, but I'm just going to use sub-par interior design vocabulary to describe it to you.
First there's the bathroom, then the other bathroom, then the other other bathroom (that one's mine) and then there's the master, the other room, and my room (the other other room). There are two kitchens, two dining rooms, two living rooms, oh, and another bathroom bedroom set. There's also a theatre and a gym! It's pretty sick.
Anyways, I have to get to my shoot, bye!
Love,
Keefe
Foster, the poem:
Blond hair blowing in the wind,
Brown eyes glowing in the night,
Losing you, takes all my might,
To keep sane, and you're to blame,
Foster, please stay the same.
When I'm gone, you'll find someone new,
Just let them treat you right.
That's all I ask, to you,
The girl that shines bright.
Like a diamond, in the rough,
Surrounded by hurt and hate,
Just promise me, my little star,
You'll always stay the same.
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