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Four days back in Fandom, and Tara had finally gathered her courage to call her father and explain where she was and, by the way, could he see about arranging transport for Mr. Moxy from one coast to the other?

It was one of the more excruciating conversations Tara had ever had, filled with Mr. Maclay's indignation about daughters who swanned off out of the blue to God-knows-where with God-knows-who and worried everyone and didn't do their duty, and what their mothers might think about it. But in the end, he grudgingly agreed Tara could have her cat back if she paid for the shipping. (Incidentally, he wanted to know, who ever shipped a cat? Was this some dirty witch thing?)

Whatever nice impulses he'd had right after Tara's mother died, it was safe to say they were long gone.

Once she finally got off the phone, Tara flopped onto her bed with her eyes closed and the door slightly open. Two classes down, one to go, plus a day at the Magic Box.

She could do this.

She had to.

[OOC: I worried far too much about what was happening to the dang imaginary cat while she traveled. Open post, either way.]

Date: 2011-09-02 07:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brat-intraining.livejournal.com
Kennedy burst out laughing. "Screw the rules; I won't tell if you won't. Besides, you hitting on me? Wow, role reversal. That'd be funky."

And nice, but also a bad idea.

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