Jakob
I am a youngster. A youngster!
Nico
Oh god, maybe this was a bad idea.
Rory
No, no, no. It’s a great idea, and I won’t make jokes like that again. We didn’t even do anything this morning. It was last night.
Owen
Rory, you did it again.
Anders
This is what we’re talking about, Rory.
Jakob
Heh
Rory
I’m sorry. Nico, don’t delete.
Nico
I’m down for Vegas rules.
Rory
What’s said in chat, stays in chat? Yes.
Owen
I vote yes.
Anders
Yes
Jakob
Yes
Nico
We’re good.
* * *
“Hey, Ma,” I called as I walked in the back door. As expected, she stood over the stove, stirring a pot of something. They must have gone grocery shopping recently because bulk items were stacked on the floor waiting to be put away. No one loved a deal more than my parents. They treated saving a buck like an Olympic sport, and their abilities were impressive.
“Nico!” she exclaimed as if she hadn’t seen me in months instead of only a week since I’d moved out. It had been tense between us since I announced my intention to move out and then did it the following day. Admittedly, it was abrupt.
My assurances that it had nothing to do with them and everything to do with my need to be independent had fallen on closed ears. They weren’t having it. Regardless of their absurdness, I hadn’t left the country and moved halfway around the world. It was across town, and it was less than a fifteen-minute drive, maybe twenty, with traffic.