Blue Fur

Chapter 3.

"Patrick, you're fashion sense is lacking, as usual", I said, taking the horribly patterned shirt from him and handing him a simple button-down.

"And yours is too mainstream, Avalon. I like to look interesting", he said, picking up another awful-looking shirt.

"And I don't look interesting? I've been told I'm shaped like a Pixar mom and my hair is a different color each month, Pat. Not that I'm complaining but still", I said, taking the shirt back from him.

Pat and I both took after my mom when it came to facial features. We both had small slender faces with long noses that my mom had inherited from her Swedish roots. The only difference is that Pat had freckles and brown eyes while I didn't and had green eyes.

We did some serious shopping that afternoon. Getting a bed, bedding, curtains, towels, carpets and bathroom mats and a wide variety of cutlery and cooking equipment for apartment so that Pat would have everything he needed to be comfortable.

They would deliver the bed the next day so for the rest of the week I would have to organize everything for him while he relaxed and went to school as usual. I didn't want him to stress about anything other than school and his friends for the rest of his time in Homer.

I had given it some serious thought about taking Patrick with me. I would apply for residency for him since he was under 18 and I would pay for whatever he needed while I worked. I couldn't ask my employer to take him in as well, they had no reason to since Patrick couldn't offer them anything in terms of usefulness.

Another reason why I didn't want to take Patrick with me was because, unlike his older sister, he had made quite a few friends that knew about what he had been going through and had actually helped him through it. He had a different kind of support that I, unfortunately, couldn't give him if we were to move away.

Pat was an oddball.

He was on the debate team, an editor and photographer for the school newspaper, and the president of the DnD club. He had more friends than I could've ever had as he found like-minded people that he understands and that understood him. He was happy on that front at least.

I couldn't take that away from him. I especially couldn't take him away from his best friend, Clinton.

The two of them were like oil and water, while Patrick was the small nerdy one, Clinton was the decently smart goalie for the school hockey team. The boy could take a puck to the face and still carry on playing but he was Patrick's best friend. I wouldn't have dared to seperate them.

Aside from his clothes, I let him pick out some whacky decorations, odd posters, carpets and lamps that he liked.

I don't think I had ever seen him that happy.

"Seriously? A Batman lap?", I asked, eyeing the box he had placed on the counter.

"You said I could get one bedside light and this is it", he said and I honestly was just happy to see him smiling, despite the black eye and split lip.

I paid without any further complaints.

Patrick seemed giddy as he practically skipped up to the car with his new lap. I rolled my eyes as I loaded the shopping cart into the car and locked it again as we still needed to have dinner. I threw my arm over his shoulders as I felt happy just seeing him enjoy himself. He had never been spoilt before and I was planning on showering Patrick with whatever he wanted for the rest of my life.

"Ok, what do you want for dinner? You can have as much cake as you want for dessert", I said as we made our way to the line of restaurants that lined one side of the strip.