Noah wondered if he should even bother to argue how ridiculous it was for Drystan to assume he would have understood he meant eight-thirty in the morning. Who made secret, no-details-at-all plans, for before nine a.m.? Noah was half expecting Drake Parkin to jump out of one of his bushes, but when that didn't happen, he simply muttered that he'll get Terry and be down in a minute.
Terry wasn't appreciative of his early awakening, either, and Noah had to plop him in the middle of the bed and let him holler in annoyance as he got dressed, and found the boy clothes, too.
"Come on, shut it," Noah muttered and he attempted to pull Terry's shirt over his head, "C'mon, Big Head, it'll be fun---I think."
Finally, he grabbed onto the satchel he'd turned into a baby bag, and tried not to look like he was rushing down the stairs with Terry (who was glaring at everything right now). Noah didn't want to admit it, but he definitely hadn't thought about denying Drystan when he wanted to go out, yesterday. He'd had some rough patches with the man, but it was good to have his friend again. Noah didn't have many guy friends, he'd noticed.
"Right. Where are we going?"
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