Megan Grant (ipaintmysoul) wrote in genome_project, @ 2012-12-07 10:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | december 2012, megan grant, scout collins |
Who: Scout and Megan
What: Cheatin' and doin' shots
When: Thanksgiving! (dun dun duuuuun!)
Where: That house where the Collins' kids used to live or whatever. (I'm an eloquent human being)
Rating: Yanno...
Food had been eaten, places had been cleared, and because family gatherings were weird and made her totally uncomfortable, Megan had quietly crept away to hide. It was easy. There were football games on, dishes were being washed, and everyone looked about five minutes away from a nap. It wasn't a bad idea actually. Anyway, Megan needed a breather.
Meeting the rest of Ian's siblings as well as his mom and stepdad had been a little more overwhelming than she'd expected. It wasn't as if they weren't pleasant enough. Well, not really. But she could hold her own. That wasn't the problem. It was just information overload, and being in a strange house, filled with strange people on a holiday that she hadn't celebrated with her own family for quite a few years was strange. It made her feel like a brat for not going back home every now and then, except for the part where the Moore/Collins clan were actually far more pleasant to be around than her own parents. But that's a story for another day.
She was trying to figure out if Mrs. Moore was the type of woman who left her children's rooms intact even after they hadn't lived there for several years. Her own mother had turned her room into a personal gym once she'd gone. But, surprise, surprise! She easily discovered the "kids rooms". Did Ian have a room here? It wasn't as though he lived there after the whole separation/divorce thing, but if Mrs. Moore kept everyone's things in order after all these years, then maybe? The first room she looked in was definitely the room of Boo Collins. Or, at least 18 year old Boo Collins. Weights, football trophies, and posters of cars and swimsuit models. Definitely not Ian's room though, so she moved on to door number two, slipping quietly inside.