Don't Touch

Comfortable Circumstances

Greg was up in his room sorting through his backpack and laying out his clothes on the bed. He wasn't looking to see if any of them were taken or anthing like that, he was sure that these people had no reason to take his clothes with all their money. What he was actually doing was looking over his clothes deciding what to wear.

This was a forced habit learned from his mother over the corse of ten years at least. Ever since he was seven his mom bombarded him with reasons he had to look nice. Most of which he would never understand until he learned about the Social Service Laws, and others were things that Greg really didn't care about at the time. Like, 'Girls will never like you if you look like a slob.' Course Greg could've cared less about what girls thought about him at the time. But now that he was here among strangers, the requirement of looking nice seemed suddenly important. It wasn't until after he had all of his clothes laid out on the bed however when he realised something.

"I don't even have any nice clothes with me." He said to himself as he looked over his array of t-shirts and jeans.

"Oh please don't tell me that you're one of those guys that have those polos and kackys on all the time." A familiar voice said from the doorway. Greg turned around and saw Flannery with her cheek pressed against the door frame. "Cause if you tell me that you're a pompous pretty boy, who wears tight shirts to show off how big he is. I swear I will roast you alive."

"Yuck!" Greg said making a face as he began to fold up his clothes. "If I ever turn into one of those polo wearing, car driving, football playing, skank bangers. I officially give you permission to torch me."

"Good cause I would've done it anyway." She said as she walked over a flopped on Greg's bed watching him put his clothes away in the drawer. "You know what though. If you want some clothes, we can run into town and buy you some."

"And wear exactlly is town?" Greg asked with honest curiousity since he still had no clue where he was.

"NYC, Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, whatever you wanna call it." Flannery said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I mean no offense, but you look like you could do with some new clothes."

"Tsk, honey where I come from town is a place with a maximum population of ten-thousand," Greg said in a sarcastic tone. "And I happen to like my clothes thank you very much."

"Okay have it your way," Flannery said raising her hands up. "Just thought since you wanted some nice clothes I figured I'd offer."

Greg rolled his eyes at Flannery's reaction. Which of course earned him a pillow to the face. "Don't roll your eyes at me you jerk."

Greg just laughed before he threw the pillow back on the bed and went back to putting his clothes away. Not long at after Flannery started to dig around in Greg's bag. He really didn't care since he didn't have anything of value in there, so he let her go through it. She pulled out notebooks, pens and pencils, some beef jerky wrappers, all of which she simply tossed aside. It wasn't until she pulled out a small object from the top pocket did Greg move to stop her.

He snatched the small black leather case out of her hand before saying. "Sorry that's um-" He cleared his throat and added. "That has value to me."

"Well what is it, looked like a wallet to me," She said trying to loook at the object, but when Greg moved it away she sighed. "Greg, I'm not going to take it. If it's that important to you then I'll leave it alone."

"Sorry it's just, photos of my family." Greg said suddenly feeling bad he move the case in front of him. "I'm a little sensitive about it."

Greg opened up the leather case revealing two photos. In front of him Flannery moved so she was right beside him looking over his shoulder. The photos were taken at Greg's grandfather's cabin last summer. His dad thought it'd be good for the boys to go see their grandpa, and was he ever right. It was only Greg's third time ever seeing his grandpa, his brother meanwhile was just meeting him. Since he lived in Minnesota it was rare that Greg ever got to see his grandpa, but everytime he did he always had the time of his life.