Far From Perfect || Tronnor

37: Loter of Dicks

A/N

So all lot of things has happened since the last update... First of all, FFP received 100,000 reads which actually made me cry so hard! You guys are fabulous!! Also, this fanfic is celebrating its first full year anniversary sometime around this week! So thanks to all who have been here since the beginning, and welcome to those that are fresh souls. I figured I'd give you guys a more fluffy chapter again to celebrate! This is one I've had plotted since the dawn of time, so I am happy to present to you guys, my favourite chapter at this moment. 

MOOD:  Wildfire   -  Seafret

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The next evening, I was upstairs listening to some of my favourite alternative music and trying to get my homework done, when my phone started ringing quietly beside me. I hurriedly walked across the room to turn my speakers down, whilst answering the call from Connor.

"Hello?" I asked, not sure why he'd be calling me.

"Oh, hey Troye!" I heard his smile through the phone.

I walked over to my bed, music soft, fell down onto my stomach, anticipating a lengthy call. "What's up?" I asked.

There was some noise and laughter in the background, causing my initial thought to be, 'God no. He better not be at some party on a Tuesday evening.' That was when I heard something softly in the background that resembled a splash, and all my original thoughts changed in the blink of an eye. He was at the pool.

A couple seconds later, he confirmed that by saying, "Oh, I'm just at the pool right now. You?"

"Lying on my bed talking to you, duh," I sassed. "Are you training?" I knew that he was a competitive swimmer, and that meant that he needed to do a crap ton of training. He enjoyed it, but it definitely tightened up his schedule.

"Yeah, I am. We have the pool for half an hour longer before it closes, and we already finished training. I'm locking up today, could you pick me up?" He asked with excitement and a cute polite voice.

It was a small town pool, so it didn't surprise me that Connor was in charge of locking up. I hummed, "Oh for sure! I'll just come right away, then?"

"That'd be preferred, yes. I can't just wait here for days," He laughed.

"Maybe I'll just make you wait. Make this romantic, you know, and like have you wait upon your Prince Charming."

Connor scoffed, teasingly. "Personally, I think it'd be more romantic if you came here, and picked me up in your gorgeous chariot, without making me wait here with these psychotic children." I heard an angry, "I'm not a child, Connor!" In the background, to which I just laughed.

"Okay, I'll be right over," I said, after the argument on the other side of the phone got too loud on my side to bear.

Turns out that my 'gorgeous chariot' was in fact my parents ratchet minivan. Now, I don't think I recall telling y'all about this vehicle. To say the least, it was the worst part about my childhood. I remember spending the majority of my life, from when I was six, to then when I was seventeen, in the back, either freezing my ass off, or baking my organs in the heat of the vehicle. It wasn't the kind of minivan that you'd call cute and 'vintage'. Like even if you had only ridden in it once, you would've hated the experience so much that it would've scarred you for life. It was so dusty, and had no wheel suspension, so every bump in the road was over-exaggerated. On top of that, there wasn't heat or Air Conditioning in it, and the seats were torn in pieces. I actually used to get teased so often for getting dropped off in it at school, that I persuaded my parents to get me school busing, despite living a ten minute walk from the school.