Word Count: 108,016
Summary of Events:
Ms. Carlyle came to the riding school mostly to visit Ian and brought her children along, who proceeded to let out all of the horses, which Ian suspected they did because he'd noticed they didn't like him. Having had a day off from training at the stables, Taylor spent some of his afternoon laying around his apartment because he was bored and really had nothing else to do . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
In a token effort of festivity, Taylor had gone to the store and bought some lights and a couple other Christmassy things that were small, allowing them to be tossed up for a few days and then to not take up much space when he put them away for the rest of the year.
It did, honestly, look feeble, but it wasn’t like he was going to have anyone over; in fact, the opposite was actually happening; tonight was Whitney’s annual Christmas party, which had been more than a good time last year, leaving Taylor with high hopes that it would be even better this year.
The only problem was that he was supposed to bring something, and particularly something to eat — as drinks were being provided — and he had no idea what to bring, because he didn’t really want to get a prepackaged something from a grocery store, but he also wasn’t sure that he wanted to make something fancy, and, too, there was the fact that he was honestly all thumbs in the kitchen.
He either dined out in restaurants or bought prepackaged convenience meals from the grocery store because he really had no idea what to do in the kitchen — and, even if he did, he didn’t have the tools to do anything with — which he knew was bad.
What was worse was the fact that he didn’t really have the means to afford hiring a personal cook, unless maybe he could possibly get some cooking lessons somewhere, but he wasn’t sure about that.
Nonetheless, he needed to come up with something, although he was going to have to do it while getting ready, because he didn’t have the time to loaf around and think any longer.
Taylor went to his bedroom and undressed before deciding to wear his graduation suit, after all, he’d gone and gotten it made how he wanted so that he could enjoy wearing it more often.
He went without a tie, certain that his striking yellow waist would do well enough on its own with his green suit, and then went to the bathroom, where he brushed his hair into place, then took a small amount of pomade onto his hands and ran his hands over his hair like he’d seen in the YouTube tutorial video — as he hadn’t been paying attention when the barber had done it — until he was satisfied that he’d worked it all in, then he brushed his hair one more time to straighten everything out and gave a small nod of satisfaction before heading out and sliding on his shoes.
Still he wasn’t sure what to do for a snack, maybe he’d just go to the grocery store and buy the first thing he was struck as wanting to eat. He had a bit of time before he had to be over at the party.
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