@notorgazmo || 0.15 - hugging
Elder Young has been in a meeting with the Mission President for almost an hour now. Kevin waits for him, cross-legged, on a wooden bench, hands gliding over his knees as his planner rests open on his lap.
The names scribbled onto its pages have been picked randomly out of a decades-old phone-book, found beneath their leaky kitchen sink. Kevin had sneezed as he dropped it onto the counter, lamenting their lack of tissues as he blew his nose into a rough paper towel.
If this doesn’t save us, so help me, he’d threatened.
Twelve weeks into the Los Angeles mission, and he and Elder Young should have a slew of investigators and a growing number of placements each, and every, week…
…should have; but they don’t.
Instead, they have a planner filled with investifakers.
Kevin used to turn his nose up at those so-called missionaries who would dare defile their sacred calling, in such a shameful, pathetic way. But these days, he’s content to join their ranks. It keeps the MP off he and Elder Young’s back, for one thing; and for another, keeps his family secure from further shame and disappointment.
(Apparently, the Uganda mission – and Kevin’s part in it - has become somewhat infamous in the Price family’s ward, and has been the topic of one too many sermons, according to his father).
Kevin can’t wait to go home.
He sighs, flipping through the pages of his planner. Tomorrow, they have a meeting with a Mr. Steven Fleck. It is the one person they did not create a backstory for, and the one person Kevin prays Elder Young does not get asked about. Unlike his former companion, Elder Young is not known for his creativity on the fly. So, with Kevin’s luck, the guy will probably break down, cry, and spill the truth - ruining everything.
Excommunication, here I come, he thinks wryly.
But when his companion finally steps out of the MP’s office, he is smiling in that stupid way that tells Kevin they survived another week; - and thank gosh, for that.
They haven’t gone to Disneyland, yet.
“Well —- what did he say?”
Kevin looks over his shoulder, before hooking an arm around Elder Young’s waist in an awkward sort-of hug; — who did he ask about? We have to keep track of this stuff, you know? Otherwise you’ll blow our cover.”
—- because Kevin would never.
