"Virtue, thrift,<em>and</em>isolation, huh?  Sounds worse than a drag.  I'd have killed for some isolation, but still."   Abby's tone turned serious, a contrast to the carefree image she seemed to normally project.  "I've always wondered if our parents realize how much they're pushing us away."  She'd liked Michael almost instantly.  He had some secrets, she thought.  Didn't everyone?  And it didn't hurt that he was pretty cute.<br/><br/>Her dark mood apparently gone like a lone cloud in the Malibu sky blown away on a brisk wind, she opened her car door and hopped out.  "I won't be long.  I don't have much stuff, and besides, the longer I'm in there, the more chance they'll make me work!"  It had been quite a shock to her system, waiting tables.  Her mother would be horrified.  But it was the price she was willing to pay to stay here and live this life.<br/><br/>It was literally two minutes before she was back, carrying one duffel bag and one paper grocery bag.  "I wasn't kidding.  This is it."  She deposited them quickly in the trunk.  "Where's your stuff?"