I own nothing.
Fear resided in Danny's heart as he reached the door. The house had been cleaned and polished. Why Sam had put so much effort into a home she didn't even want her parents to see was beyond him. Maybe she wanted to build up the nice and happy routine then hit them with the climax of a lie. Or maybe the only things that could make her parents more upset that a relationship with the son of ghost hunters was a happy relationship that didn't seem like it was doomed to fail.
Danny signed. The smell from the kitchen moved into the living room. Who knew vegetarian food could smell so good? He heard the doorbell ring again. The annoying buzz was followed by a stern knock. Then another. Danny opened the door.
Mr. Manson looked Danny up and down, judging every inch of him. He almost smiled. "We must have the wrong apartment." He said acting as if his wife hadn't broken in to this very room a dozen times before.
"No. You're in the right place. Sam is in the kitchen." Danny said. He led the way. Mr. Manson analyzed the small apartment. The entry way was small and not decorated. There must have been a rule against painting otherwise the rooms would have been darker. Cream colored paint lined most of the walls. A wall with no door led into the small kitchen. A table with barley enough room for three let alone four sat behind the couch. The couch itself was probably older than Sam. It was a light purple color and had been darker once upon a time. Three doors were opposite the kitchen. One had to be a bathroom, one a bedroom. The other was probably another bedroom or a closet. Another door sat at the end of the kitchen, a broom closet or pantry. Judging by the size, he'd have to say broom closet. He stood. The chairs were a little too comfy for his taste.
"Who are you?" Mrs. Manson asked. "You must be the help." She said. After making up her mind that he was obviously not worth her time.
"Actually MOM," Sam said peeking her head out of the kitchen, "That's my boyfriend Danny."
Mrs. Manson looked the boy up and down. He was wearing a polo shirt. It was old and had a small stain near the collar. His hair was brushed but had obviously not been cut in a while. He wore khakis but was noticeably uncomfortable. His blue eyes seemed lined with confidence that someone of his stature could never possess.
"No, he's not." Mrs. Manson said. She felt great. Her word was final at least in her eyes. There was no way Sam would be heart broken from the break up. He wasn't worth it.
"Yes, he is. If you have a problem with it, you can leave and not come back." Sam said meeting her mother's stare.
"Fine, we'll go. We will be back tomorrow. Make sure to get rid of that before we come back." She said nodding to Danny.
"He lives here." Sam said.
Mr. Manson walked into the hallway giving the room a 'not again' look.
"Not anymore." Mrs. Manson said as she walked out.
Danny let Sam have her moment. He went into the kitchen and what he saw surprised him. There was very little food prepared. It was no where near enough for four people.
Danny smiled. Sam had known from the beginning that they wouldn't stay for dinner.
"I hope you like eggplant burgers. Payment for playing along." Sam said.