"You're so cute, like revoltingly cute," Miss Patty, or Barry, told me while I admired the gift I bought for Parker the other night.

Maybe Parker wouldn't recall one little conversation from forever ago, but I remembered everything. To me, even the most offhanded comment told me something about a person. It's uncool to admit your deepest desires, but if you say it almost like a joke, maybe no one will notice that you're human.

Parker always felt a little miffed she didn't get flowers for her costumes performing on stage.

However, knowing Parker like I know Parker, I had a strong inkling that an actual bouquet of live flowers wouldn't survive one night under her care.

Sunday, I had spotted a slightly tattered leather jacket in Miss Patty's Salon. It gave me the same electric feeling that I felt when I looked at Parker, so I made a small request. Barry embroidered daisies on the back of the leather jacket. The different colored strings were a little spaced and a little messy and not perfect, but still so pretty. Just like Parker.

Jumping up on a counter, I kicked my legs and explained myself, "This is my plan."

"We love a plan." Barry nodded along. He was busy sewing customized binders for his online store. The entire studio was crowded with boxes of merchandise, a couple of T-shirt printers and cricket machines cutting up stickers. All this buzzing as a rerun of Law and Order played on the TV in the far corner.

"After opening night, I'm going to give Parker this jacket. She's going to try it on."

"And you're absolutely sure she's going to try it on?"

"I feel like it will drive her a little crazy to not immediately put new clothes on."

"Okay, weird, but who am I to talk? So, what happens when she puts this gorgeous leather jacket on her skinny rail?"

"She'll put her hand in the pocket and find a love letter from me, asking her to be my girlfriend. Officially."

I spilled the beans about the trial to Barry without thinking in the first minute of coming here. Something about his presence weakened all my defenses and made me want to confess every dirty little secret. And I released everything, letting all my tension melt away. This must be what therapy felt like and I'm kind of obsessed with it.

"And you can't just ask her?" Barry asked, leaning back in his spinning chair. "Like with your mouth parts? Like a human person?"

"No. No way. I'll crumble from embarrassment. Or worse. Cry."

"Nothing wrong with crying."

My face scrunched up, feeling the exact opposite, but I was too polite to tell Barry he didn't know what he was talking about. This sentiment seemed to reach him because an emphatic laugh boomed from his mouth like a car horn. He sat back up and clapped at me. "Aren't you a performer too? Where's the confidence?"

"I have stage fright."

"You have life fright."

"Okay, if I wanted bad advice, I'd go outside and ask the Jensen twins to decide my fate. At least then, I'd get some hot chocolate too."

"Ooo—" Barry perked up. "Grab a cup for me and ask those kids what color I should repaint my kitchen and if I should tell my husband or not?"

A quick day sixteen! And a cute little confession planned ;) This day might take the cake for being the shortest, but I could be wrong. I've definitely been wrong before! Haha.

What do you guys think about the gift? Do you guys miss the Jensen twins? We haven't gotten enough bad advice lately. Lol. We've got a double update today so I'll see you guys in a second with Day Seventeen.