OPERATION: YOUNGBLOOD | Peterick

Chapter 22

I was blessed enough to see my dads this weekend. An absolutely amazing show.

The industrial kitchen was overheated and Patrick felt uncomfortable next to all of the other people he was sure committed much worse crimes than himself. He slipped on the plastic gloves and grabbed the serving spoon that was stuck in something that didn't look too appealing.

Then line of people came by, and Patrick spooned a heap of the substance onto someone's tray whenever they pointed at it. The repetitive motion had to last for more than an hour, until time was finally called to begin clean up.

They wiped the counters, moped the floors, took out the trash, just about anything that could be done to clean a mess hall. Patrick signed his form before he left, then rushed home to jump in the shower and stand there for at least twenty minutes to let all the grime rinse off.

"I can't believe I have to do that three times a week," he muttered to himself as he dried his strawberry hair. Community service couldn't seem to get any worse.

Later, Patrick fished out the newspaper he picked up earlier that morning and flipped to the job section. All of the available options made him cringe, but he still highlighted the ones that seemed to revolt him the least.

The cupboard and the fridge were quite dry, so Patrick took it on himself to head to the grocery store. He was careful to only buy what he needed, due to the fact that he was living off half of the reward money the two of them received. If he didn't find another job soon, it wouldn't be too long until he would have to start pulling from his savings.

Patrick realized he hadn't cooked a big meal since before the trip, something he loved doing. He put the budget aside for a moment and picked up a few extra ingredients and texted Pete when returned to the car.

Patrick: Dinner at mine tonight?

Pete responded a few minutes later when Patrick came to a stoplight. He carefully typed out a response.

Pete: sounds good. what time?

Patrick: 7 good?

The light turned green and Patrick pushed his foot down on the gas. He drove in silence for a few moments until his phone dinged again with another text. Keeping his eyes on the road, he picked up the device and continued forward at the same time.

Pete: see u then

Patrick looked down at the keyboard and searched for the happy emoji with the tongue sticking out. He was cut short when a flash on the road a and blaring horn jolted his head up. He gasped and grabbed a hold of the steering wheel and swerved into the other lane, causing the car behind him to lay on the horn too. He looked up in the rear view mirror and saw the other driver flicking him off. Breathing heavily, he put his phone down and focused on the road.

Once back at home, Patrick unloaded the groceries and left his phone laying untouched on the couch. He saw the time and decided it would be good to begin preparing the meal.

It must have been all but a half-hour until the doorbell startled Patrick. The clock on the stove only read six, way too early for his company.

He set down the serving spoon he was using and opened the door, surprised to find Pete, exactly who he wasn't expecting.

"Hey, I know I'm way early," his company spoke first. "But the thing I had to go to was cancelled so I was hoping I could just come right here. If not, I totally understand I'll just come-"

"No, it's okay," Patrick said quickly with a smile on his face. "As long as you don't mind that I'm cooking."

Pete stepped in and hung his coat on the rack. "Of course not. I'll help."