she's my winona; brendon urie au

sixteen

"Wait, so you just threw the jug of milk at a mirror?" I ask, laughing through a forkful of salad.

He continues chuckling, "I know, right? I honestly don't know what I thought would happen, and I was just so surprised when it shattered. I was laughing, though. I gave no shits,"

Ah, what a way to live. The night wasn't as long and dreadful as presumed. Well, at least so far. We've been telling stories and learning a lot about each other, all the while enjoying really amazing food. Not that I've been on many dates for this to mean much, but this really is the best date I have ever been on. Best person, best food, and best conversations. Also, I did catch Brendon staring at me a couple times, and I just blushed and forgot about it. Usually when guys do that it's gross and I feel awful, but with him it's different. I don't know, this time I felt more flattered than anything. And sort of proud, too. I guess I have officially caught feelings for Brendon. And I guess I'm mostly okay with that.

A few giggles later, as the food on our plates progressively disappeared, time was lead towards the end of our date. I was pretty sad, I have to admit. But the end of the first date invites the beginning of a second date, right? When the check was placed on the table, I immediately started reaching into my purse to get my money out so I could pay. I was hoping Brendon would take the check, or at least try to, because that would be polite and it would show his generosity. Of course, if he actually paid for the whole meal, I'd be upset. Therefore I wouldn't let him. I just wanted him to offer. Which he did, very prominently, actually-by picking up the check and insisting that he had it covered. Hiding the check under the table and tilted towards him, I couldn't see how much we spent. And it was even harder to guess through the way he sifted through the money in his wallet. Discreetly and secretive. And he was good at it, too.

"This doesn't have to be like the clichés, you know," I tell him, "The guy doesn't always have to pay for the meal."

Brendon smirks at that, proceeding to pull money out from his wallet, trying to hide the real cost from me by folding the value numbers over.

"Oh really? Then maybe you should ask me out, next time."

I smile confidently, "Sure thing. I bet I could compose a better date than you did tonight,"

Maybe challenging him wasn't the best decision, but I'm putting it all out on the table tonight.

"Saturday at 9, be at Mermaid Dock, okay?"

He nodded gratefully, like he thought I would never ask. It was a very casual scene to be played out at Mermaid Dock. They had a great smoothie bar, and the dock was always beautiful. I knew he would love it.

As we were walking out of the restaurant, hand in hand, Brendon turned to ask me, "So, when do you get Marley back?"

Now I have to do math? Jesus fuck, why am I even here? I gave him to Claire on Tuesday, and now it's-oh god, Sunday? I have one and a half more days before I have to take care of him again. How am I supposed to go on my date with Brendon while I have Marley? Having a child is so frustrating. But I do love Marley, and I can't deny how much I miss him. When Tuesday finally rolled around, it was alright after all. Marley greeted me with a hug, which was a very refreshing thing. Claire on the other hand, greeted me with my past mail. Me and Marley spent our Tuesday lounging around the house, which I find is how we usually spend our days. Then, I got a call from Roger, and that's when it all went downhill.

"Yes, Roger. What do you want?" I ask, more frustrated then nervous this time.

"The house, sweetheart. I'm getting the idea that you aren't planning on giving me Marley."

I mentally groan and roll my eyes. No shit, Sherlock.

"You have the right idea," I say casually.

"I want your stuff out by Friday. I'll send an associate out to confirm you are moved out by then, and I will move some stuff in the following weekend."

"Hey, how about fuck yourself?" I spit.

"Don't be talking to me like that, young lady."

"You aren't my dad."

"That's right, he's probably wasted, with a hooker," Roger grumbles.

"Like you aren't the equivalent of that with the way you don't do shit."

"Watch your mouth." He advices.

"Shut yours." I reply.

"Goodbye, devil horns. I won't see you soon."

And with that, the line went dead. Well, I guess you can't say I wasn't expecting this. I mean, what else would've happened? He would forget?

"Well, Marley," I start, "We gotta move out soon, buddy."

He looks up at me cluelessly, which is kind of all he is, right now. It's hard to communicate with a young child.

Now feels like a good time to call Claire and confirm that me and Marley are moving in, and we have to do so by Friday. But, this feels like the sort of thing you would say in person, so me and Marley headed out into the light breeze of late Summer, entering my car and driving off. The drive was smooth and still, like the tension was just building up for when we got to Claire's. I had no good reason to be nervous. I mean, we did already situate ourselves for me and Marley to move in. I guess I never thought it would actually come to this.

When we got inside Claire's house, Henry was on her couch, shirtless and on his phone. I laugh to myself, imaging Claire forcing him to not wear a shirt around her house. Yet he clutched the one besides him when he notices me.

"Hey, uh, Carly. . ." Henry stutters.

I laugh and wave a little. I don't know why he gets so flustered. We've known each other way too long. Soon, Claire is walking out of her bedroom, dressed in light washed jeans and a floral blouse, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she enters the kitchen.

"Carlsy!" She exclaims, rushing over to me to give me a hug.

We exchange a hug, Marley still in my arms. It's a nice, happy family feeling that is beginning to surround us. One that I haven't known I've been longing floor.

a/n: you guys are just so sweet.

-emma