Ian pinched the bridge of his nose in a mild agitation. The last thing he needed was his sister thinking he'd brought a girlfriend home. He briefly toyed with the idea of telling Abigail that no she wasn't a date, she was just a prostitute, but he saw that going over very, very poorly. Before he could decide on what he wanted to say, Abigail cut in. He felt himself melt into the couch with relief - she wasn't staying. The thought of her going out dressed like that made his skin crawl. There were so many perverts and psychopaths that would take one look at her and either fascinate or make it a reality. Today though, he decided that he couldn't wait until she was out of the house. The less Emmeline knew about him and his family, the better.<br/><br/>"Chinese sounds great," he said, suddenly in much better moods than he'd been before. He could hardly contain his excitement, mostly about Abby leaving but also sincerely excited about Chinese. The movie, he chose to ignore. Maybe he and Abby could see one together whenever they<span style="font-style: italic">weren't</span>accompanied by a stranger that he'd only met a little while ago.<br/><br/>His thoughts were all but tuned out as he listened to Abigail lament over the woes of high school. She claimed to hate it, but she fit right in to the mold, as he did when he was a senior. Ian had surprisingly been a pretty popular guy in school. He'd had friends and partied and fucked around with the rest of them, and even now he still went out with a few select people, but never like Abby. She was a socialite the entire way through, personable and polite and perpetually brimming with every single good quality that someone would look for in a friend. She was great, truly, however...<br/><br/>"Hey hey hey," Ian protested, sitting up suddenly as Abby dangled his keys in front of him, batting her eyes in that<span style="font-style: italic">way</span>of hers. Sometimes he wondered if she knew what she did to him and had decided to take advantage of it. She at the very least knew she would always win. "Be careful with it," he warned her, eyeing her cautiously. If there was one thing that he loved, it was his Tesla. It was a product of his father's guilt, but Ian took care of it with pride as if he'd bought it himself. "I don't want to have to come pull it out of a ditch later."