(no subject)
Jakeem shuts the door to LaShawn's bedroom behind him, balancing the tray carefully. She finished half the soup, and ate a whole slice of bread with it, she must be getting better. She was even well enough to comment on how grubby his clothes were.
"She seems better," the Thunderbolt says, echoing Jakeem's thoughts.
Jakeem nodded. "Don't tell anyone, but I was kinda worried," he says, putting the tray on the bench with the other dirty dishes. They've almost run out of clean stuff now, but that's okay. Jakeem's been having the Thunderbolt create new ones whenever they need anything.
As the genie works his magic, Jakeem peels off his t-shirt and dumps it in the washing machine. After some consideration he adds his shorts. Wearing them two days running isn't that bad, but he did spill chocolate sauce on them.
He's searching through the laundry spread accross the sofa in the living room when the doorbell rings. Pulling the nearest t-shirt on over his head, Jakeem goes to open the door. This time of day, it has to be Bart or Jay.
The woman on the other side of the door is crisp and unimpressed. "You would be Jakeem Williams?" she says. "Jemima Donovan, child services."
"Fuck," says Jakeem. This does not help things.
"She seems better," the Thunderbolt says, echoing Jakeem's thoughts.
Jakeem nodded. "Don't tell anyone, but I was kinda worried," he says, putting the tray on the bench with the other dirty dishes. They've almost run out of clean stuff now, but that's okay. Jakeem's been having the Thunderbolt create new ones whenever they need anything.
As the genie works his magic, Jakeem peels off his t-shirt and dumps it in the washing machine. After some consideration he adds his shorts. Wearing them two days running isn't that bad, but he did spill chocolate sauce on them.
He's searching through the laundry spread accross the sofa in the living room when the doorbell rings. Pulling the nearest t-shirt on over his head, Jakeem goes to open the door. This time of day, it has to be Bart or Jay.
The woman on the other side of the door is crisp and unimpressed. "You would be Jakeem Williams?" she says. "Jemima Donovan, child services."
"Fuck," says Jakeem. This does not help things.