*trigger warning*

"Happy Thanksgiving!" I announced to Parker.

He threw a pillow at me from his bed.

"Does something magical happen on Thanksgiving?" I inquired. "Does a giant turkey bring you presents? Or a pilgrim deliver baskets of food?"

"It's Thanksgiving," Parker muttered, pulling a pillow over his head. "You're supposed to be thankful for what you already have."

"Well I have you," I pointed out. "If you'd get your ass out of bed."

"Go away."

"Let's go to the beach."

"Five more minutes."

"I didn't drive 2 and a half hours to sleep in a hotel room," I pointed out.

"Shut the fuck up and leave me alone," Parker groaned.

I threw the pillow back at him that he'd pelted me with.

Parker let out a long, dramatic groan, flipping over on his back and shooting me a death glare. "Why do you hate me?"

"Because I want to go to the beach."

"We have the entire day, all day tomorrow, and the morning on Saturday to do that. Why can't you just let me sleep a little longer?"

"Because I want to go to the beach now."

He threw the pillow at me again before crawling out of bed, muttering obscenities to himself as he headed towards the bathroom.

"So we're going to the beach then?" I called after him.

"Take your medicine Lee!" he called after his shoulder.

"And then we can go?"

He slammed the bathroom door shut.

I'll take that as a yes.

I hopped up out of my own bed, rummaging through Parker's suitcase until I came across my giant-ass pill container.

I popped open the slot for Thursday morning and took what was inside, trusting that Parker had dealt the drugs as instructed.

"So are you making me a giant turkey for dinner tonight?" I asked Parker, as he came out of the bathroom. "You know, in the spirit of Thanksgiving and everything."

He gestured to the tiny kitchen in the hotel room. "Yes Lee, I'm baking a fucking turkey in the hotel room tonight. Would you like some stuffing to go along with it?"

"Preferably."

He rolled his eyes, cracking a smile. "I don't even know how to cook a turkey."

"You just put it in the oven," I said, heading over to my own suitcase to find my swimsuit.

"I think there's more to it then that," Parker declined.

"It can't be that hard."

"Why? Do you want to make a turkey?"

"No," I said, with a shake of my head. "I'd rather not burn down the hotel room."

In the cooking department, Parker and I both lacked most of the required skills. My mom had passed on some of her wisdom to Parker, but not enough.

"I was thinking that we'd just go out tonight," Parker said, as I located my swimsuit.

"So you're taking me out on a date then?"

"A nice candlelight dinner," Parker agreed, with a smirk.

I headed to the bathroom, laughing.

"I'm serious though!" Parker called after me.

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