Summary: What was Priestly doing all weekend while the girls went to met
Word Count: 1,931
A/N:Okay, so this is my first Ten Inch Hero fic so go easy on me, hehe
Please leave a review and tell me what you think, thanks :D
It was a Friday when Tish, Jen and Piper set off to meet Fuzzy22. Priestly had offered to drive and buy the beer, wanting to tag along in their little “adventure” if not to just be there for Jen, whom he considered to be one of his best friends, but also so he would have something to do with his weekend. Jeez, weekends alone were so boring…
After Priestly, Trucker and Zo had waved the three off in the Cosmobile, Priestly and Trucker had returned inside while Zo went back to her own store.
“Looks like it’s just gonna be us this weekend” Priestly grinned at Trucker as he pulled his apron on.
“Yeah. And that means coming to work on time” Trucker jibbed. It was an ongoing joke that Priestly was always late; he never gave a reason but if Trucker had to guess it was probably the amount of time Priestly spent getting his hair to sit the weird way he had decided for that particular day.
Priestly laughed and walked over to the counter and resumed the tasks he had started before they had left to wave the girls off on their journey. Priestly generally stayed in the background of the Beach City Grill, preparing the sandwiches while Tish and Piper took care of the orders and Jen took care of the computer. It wasn’t that Priestly was shy or embarrassed by his appearance; being whatever hair colour /style he had chosen for that day, or the weird messages that were printed on his t-shirts, but rather that he liked the movement and motion that the preparing gave him – he was nearly always doing something, cutting the vegetables or taking stock of what was needed – always in a constant state of motion.
And that was why this weekend was going to be so lame.
Usually they all went out at the weekend, whether it be out to the local bars or clubs or even just a night in at someone’s apartment they always had fun and enjoyed themselves.
Oh well, maybe a weekend by himself would be nice.
Nah. He doubted it.
The rest of the day passed, fairly uneventful – not too many customers to cause a big rush (strangely less guys hanging around since Tish wasn’t there), a quick supply run after Trucker accidently knocked over the last bottle of ketchup in his dazed state when Zo visited to get her Toufurkey sandwich.
Priestly and Trucker closed up the Beach City Grill and since the girls had taken the Cosmobile Priestly was giving Trucker a ride home.
Trucker climbed into the beat up car and smiled fondly. If Priestly’s hair and clothes weren’t a big enough statement about his extrovert personality then his car definitely was.
The interior was dark black leather, aged and roughed by the years of use it had seen. The steering wheel was right out of the seventies with the hand grips and large shifter. Although the car was beat up and probably older than Priestly was the CD player that had been installed last summer was most definitely was not; it was sleek black with radiant blue buttons and screen that lit up the inside of the car.
As soon as Priestly turned the key in the ignition, after unceremoniously throwing himself into the car, bass, drums and loud guitar boomed from the speakers that lined the doors.
Trucker winced slightly as the sound reverberated around his head but chuckled when he saw the way Priestly was bobbing his head to the music, his lips moving sporadically in time with the words being screamed at them.
As they drove down the beach front Priestly turned the volume down and turned his head so he could cast his eyes briefly at Trucker before looking back at the road in front of him.
“So, are you ever gonna tell Zo you like her?” Priestly asked, his tone mocking but also slightly curious. He may look like he was just a head filled with more artificial holes than real ones, but when it came to his friends he cared deeply – even if he did have a weird way of showing it.
“I keep tellin’ you man. Love will find its own course – we’re soul mates, fate will intervene in whatever way he deems fit” Trucker said, believing that someday his love and admiration for Zo would be known to her and they would be together.
“Sure man” Priestly laughed, shaking his head.
After approximately five minutes more driving in a comfortable and relaxing silence Priestly stopped the car outside of Trucker’s house.
“Well, I’ll catch ya later man” Priestly said as Trucker removed himself from the car, patting the roof twice in a goodbye before Priestly drove home to his own apartment.
Priestly pulled up into his apartment building, throwing his car into park and climbing out. His apartment building was pretty small – there were only about ten apartments and about three were vacant, one that was neighboring his which was great as there were only two apartments on a floor in the narrowing building which meant he could make much more noise than if he had to keep it down for the old crone living next door to him like he had to do in his last apartment before moving to Santa Cruz.
Priestly jogged up the stairs to his apartment, Number 7 on the fourth floor, pushing his key and swinging the door open, bending down to grab his mail before shutting the door behind him with a kick of his foot.
“Junk, Junk, Bill, Junk…” Priestly mumbled as he flicked through the envelopes before tossing them onto the wooden coffee table that sat in the middle of his living/kitchen/dining room.
Priestly’s apartment was moderately decorated – it was small with the living room, dining room and Kitchen area cramped together, but with the various items strewn around it felt more homey than oppressive. The kitchen was ordinary with lightwood cabinets against the wall and a stone washed counter that held the microwave, kettle and small statue of a cat wearing a sombrero. The cooker and fridge-freezer had been there when Priestly arrived had had been in fairly good condition, serving him well over the past few years – not that Priestly cooked much outside the Beach City Grill and his fridge was more of a giant cool box for beer and microwave dinners.
The dining room consisted of a small table that was light wood with scratches along the table legs (Priestly had bought it at a garage sale when he first moved to Santa Cruz and he suspected that the cat that had been lying sprawled on the grass was responsible). The table had originally came with four matching chairs but I now housed three and an old fold up chair because Priestly had come in drunk and perhaps slightly baked off his head before plunging into the table and breaking one of the legs.
The living room wasn’t as space as it contained a sofa (that doubled as a bed dude!), a coffee table that was covered in paint splatters (from when Priestly was decorated one weekend) and a television set that picked up most channels with a reasonable reception.
The bedroom was to the back of the apartment, housing a king sized bed, a clothes rail and a mirror that Priestly and Tish had dropped when they were helping him bring it in but he refused to get rid of because, “Dude, 7 years bad luck is something I do not need!”.
The bathroom was generally clean and that probably had something to do with the meager size, not big enough to leave towels lying all over the floor. The bathtub probably should have been condemned with the amount of hair dyes that had been rinsed over it, turning the bottom into a psycadelic mix of reds, blues, yellows and purples, but Priestly was a shower man and didn’t really care much.
Posters, pictures and post-it notes that were attached to the wall throughout the apartment give it a relaxing lived in feel that was one of the reasons his apartment was the place to spend a lot of the Friday nights – the stereo blasting as loud as they could get away with and the beer flowing creating an atmosphere that would make in the stuffiest person feel mellow.
Priestly sauntered over to the fridge and pulled out a beer, twisting off the cap and tossing into onto the counter. Walking over to the sofa he let himself collapse into the soft springs, taking a swing from his beer and casting his eyes about the room.
“Talk about boring” Priestly muttered out loud. He never was one for being alone – growing up in a family as an only child, that followed a strange new religion and home schooling made him want the company of others more than the normal person. Spending so much time alone as a child had made him “different” from the other children his age, not able to socialize the same way they did, gaining friends at school or church groups.
As he grew older he had fought against his parents need to smoother him with their ideals, going out and socializing with people his own age. He was quite a handsome man and the girls knew it – but once he opened his mouth something must have screamed ‘FREAK’ because any relationship he had never lasted very long.
Sure he had girlfriends, wasn’t a virgin and had friends that he could go out with. But they were never really the same as he was – didn’t hold the same opinions, tastes or styles in music.
If people thought he was weird then he was gonna show them weird. He changed his hair, changed his clothes and changed location. Moving to Santa Cruz gave him a fresh start to be Priestly, becoming friends with people who didn’t judge him by how he looked (sure they poked fun but that’s all it was, fun) but took him for who he really was.
Still wasn’t any need to tell them his real name was Boaz.
Priestly sipped his beer, turning on the stereo to blast out the loudest tune, bobbing his head along. Setting his beer down Priestly went into his room and stripped from his jeans and t-shirt before pulling on a pair of worn sweatpants and an old tee with “This T-Shirt Would Look Great On Your Floor” before walking back out into the living room and flopping back down onto the sofa, glancing at the telephone waiting for it to ring, wondering when Tish, Piper or Jen were gonna fill him in on what they were doing.
Glancing at the clock on the microwave Priestly sighed,
“This is gonna be a long weekend”
Saturday and Sunday passed in the same fashion. Priestly came to work, almost on time, and for a change was cooking and taking orders. The extra work made him more tired at the end of the day so he usually just drove home (dropping Trucker off first) before having a few beers and hitting the sack.
When Monday came Priestly was strung with curiosity – he had waited all weekend on one frickin’ phone call from anyone to tell him what they were up to; who the Hell was Fuzzy22, a guy, a cop, a friggin’ monkey escaped from the zoo?!?
Walking round from the back after parking his car Priestly spotted Tish, Piper and Jen already there (no big surprise there) and pushed open the door…