SUPERSONIC

“There’s pluses and minuses either way,” Matias said, mock-serious as he considered the question. It wasn’t really worth the level of thought he was devoting to it, but then again, it couldn’t hurt. “You cut, you say this is urgent, and I’m upset, and possibly they give you a new one to keep things moving. You don’t cut, you might win politeness points.” Scanning the line that had grown considerably since they’d collected their cookies, Matias nodded in the direction of the staff walking behind the line. “It’ll definitely be quicker to cut.” Not that he minded waiting around, but it didn’t seem like a good use of anyone’s time.

Heather's eyes went wide and eyebrows shot up. The situation wasn't dangerously urgent, but in truth, she was bummed about it enough to treat it as such. "Okay. I see your stance on the matter. I will remember this choice you made, as well as your ability to come up with pros and cons on the spot." Before her sentence could be finished, she moved over to the counter while avoiding eye contact with anyone waiting in the line. "Hey, sorry. I believe my cookie here wasn't taped in its little sleeve thing and it fell, so—" "Sure, here." The girl spun around slowly, cradling a fresh replacement. "Huh. That was oddly easy."

Cal gave a little chuckle and nodded. “My whole life, basically,” he said. “Maybe she messed up when she and my dad were first married, but I’ve never heard about it.” He laughed softly. “Next year someone will keep an eye on her,” he said. He smiled and shrugged. “Just to do well in my classes this semester,” he said. “I’ve just gone back to school. What about you? Anything you’re looking forward to this year?”

"Ooh yes, good luck. What are you studying?" Heather practically jumped at her own question. While she didn't exactly miss some aspects of school, the classroom was always her favorite. "Me, I'm kinda excited about not having to resort to public transport as much anymore. It's time that my dear Joyce retires, so I've been saving up for a new car." It wasn't new new, nor was it from the nineties like her current set of wheels either. "I suppose it's kinda like my first real big purchase."

       Annabel would reluctantly be the one to finally create space between the pair, “you really should have.” A nod decorated her slender shoulders, bobbing long deep brown locks of hair in unison as if this was a perfectly legitimate plan of action. “We will have to look into it, should any future trips be in the cards. Luckily, I doubt there will be for quite some time. I have missed my desk too much to be away from the Wilmington office much longer.” The comment made in regards to her desk was made with a melodramatic flutter of her eyelashes and an intentionally lustful undertone. “You are right, look at me. I am like a strey, forgotten my house-dog manners when in the company of beautiful women.” A chuckle rippled into the space between them, and the petite brunette obligingly took a step aside to in fact go ahead and grab her sisterly-friend the requested soda. “You would reschedule? Oh, how you flatter Sinatra and I– he is going to be so tickled pink to see you. If I start randomly crying during said sleepover, I preemptively assure you that they will merely be tears of joy.”

Nodding along like a bobblehead, Heather okayed the not-so-accessible future plan of action. "That's good!" She bit her tongue. "I mean, I admire what you do and your flipping darn charitable heart so when you gotta go and kick butt, you gotta do what you gotta do." Hands resting on her hips, the younger brunette turned her head with an abrupt, yet small hair flip. Moments later she giggled along and jokingly fanned herself. The girl wasted no time to extend an arm towards the purple soda can and flashed a wink. "No question about it, unless...no, not even if Wonder Woman asked me out. I can not wait. And if you cry, I'll have you know that I'm gonna cry too. It's just gonna be a flow of happy 'is this really real life' tears, and oh snap," a finger pointed up, "I can already feel it coming now."

Lucy was, in a word, exhausted. But she was determined to get a run in before she went to bed for the day. Working nights had become routine again, not that she enjoyed them, but there was something nice about being able to sleep in her house when her neighbors were all at work and no one would be loud around to wake her. Since it was winter, there were no tourists around the beach to disrupt her run either. She made it about a mile from her house before just needing a break, and she sat down on the sand looking out on the tide going out thinking about how peaceful it was in this moment compared to the night she had at the hospital.

Run more. This was a specific goal Heather had set ages ago and even though she had gone on plenty of runs before, those sprinting sessions were all sporadic. Sure the aspiring Nobel Prize winning chemist had created goals, but to be fair, most of them weren't as realistic—therefore it'd been rare for those targets to be reached. The activity she was going at now though, had been attainable. In an effort to hold herself accountable for things she wished to achieve, it made sense in her opinion to speak it out into existence: especially to another person, any person. Probably helpful if they knew her so they could pester her later, but telling a single soul regardless if they knew her or not could suffice for now. "So pretty and calming, isn't it? I should run by the beach more often."

Cal laughed at her response. “That rum is a devil, I’ll tell you,” he said, laughing again and shaking his head. “To her credit, she’s been making these things for at least thirty-two years, if not longer, and this is the first time she’s ever made this mistake.” He chuckled. “Yeah, she found the trinket on the counter as she was pulling the Yule bread out of the oven.”

"Huh. At least thirty-two years..." The words were repeated with a sincere interest. "I can't lie, I'm a little sad that she hurt her winning streak. I guess someone's gotta supervise next time to prevent that from happening again." Clicking a tongue, Heather winced. "So, any goals or things you're looking forward to in this average 2019?"

“Well–” Matias began, his brow furrowing in confusion for only a moment before the distinction Heather was trying to draw became clear, and her new plan just as obvious. “I would happy to be your witness,” he said with a smile. If she was unwilling to outright buy a replacement, this would be the next best thing, and it was the next best thing. Not to mention, in the crowded shop, it would be all too likely that no one else had actually seen the cookie fall.

"Right on. Let's roll." Heather spun around to make a beeline for the register. The cookie rested in both palms–almost as if it had been fragile treasure. On the way up, she shot a look in his direction. "Moment of truth, my honest witness. To cut or not to cut the line?"

         The question of where her drink may have wandered off to was immediately irrelevant the second Annabel laid eyes on Heather, her smile growing so wide that it was hurting her face for it to stretch that broadly across her features. “You absolutely beautiful creature!” Clearly, she’d already had a bit to drink that evening but the alcohol was not responsible for how utterly ecstatic she was to see her ‘sister’ standing before her. Without any further warning, Annabel sprung forward to wrap the younger brunette in a tight anaconda like hug. “Oh, Merlin, if I could have smuggled you away with me in my suitcase you bet your ass I would have– Sinatra was not content to only be able to see you via Facetime and neither was I.” Still clinging to her friend like her life depended on it, the all-too-excited young woman had been very reluctant to step back and give Heather some breathing room. “He is going to be so upset I didn’t bring him along now, but I just know how he gets sometimes around strangers. Oh! Do you have plans tonight after the fireworks? Do you want to come back home with me? I mean, of course if you have plans I can’t hold it against you but it seems like a great slumber party opportunity. Sinatra owes you like a thousand slobbery kisses.”

Shrieking in excitement, Heather instantly returned the warm embrace and exaggerated a pretend gasp for air. "Need— atomic number— eight— but this feels so right—" She held on, not daring to be the one to break away from the hug first. "And I. That makes three of us. I should've gotten my hands on an electromagnetic shrinking machine so you could've brought me with you, like in that one movie where that one guy accidentally shrinks his kids." Swaying a little throughout their hug, it was as if her feet were becoming one with the sand beneath them. Hand lifting to press against her own cheek, Heather pouted. "Oh gosh, I can feel his sadness. Don't worry Sin, baby I'm coming for ya!" She cried into the air. "No plans, none at all, free as a bird. Come back home with you? Oh Anna, at least buy me a drink first, or grab me a soda can from that cooler over there. And for the record if I did have plans, I'd reschedule for you. Slumber party it is, okie dokie? Grape soda or not, I'm going home with you."

“No, no– i’ve got this!” Annabel declared loudly, handing off her drink to the nearest bystander. Deep brown hues scanning the makeshift limbo set-up with an intuitive calculating tilt of her head. The piece of driftwood that was being used as the crossbar was at a fairly low notch, but Annabel Weldon didn’t take lightly to a challenge– even if it was just a pointless party game. Giving herself a fairly long pathway to make the dip, she’d clapped her hands together with a determined grin. “Alright, a moment of silence ladies and gentleman.” Snickering under her breath, she’d given the set-up one last measuring squint and then made a steady-graceful attempt at dipping low enough to slide beneath the barrier. Which, to her own great enthusiasm, she’d managed– by a nose hair. Quite literally, as Anna had happened to make it so close to the notch that the tip of her nose grazed the piece of wood. “Ha!” She’d rang out victoriously, grinning as she took a few melodramatic bows. Though, her features swiftly blanked as she’d looked down to her then empty grip. “Rats– what’d I do with my drink?”

The roar of cheerful chanting and laughter dominated the crackling fire, pulling Heather from her serene trance. A couple of excuse mes resulted in the continuation of heads bobbing to light music and hands tossed in the air, urging the curious young woman to push people out of the way–which immediately happened when a certain voice rose. "Hey, hi! Move it or lose it, dude." Eyes made contact with a burly figure. "Please," Heather cleared a throat and shifted both her vision and legs; moving forward to land beside the person in charge of Annabel's drink. "Whoa-ho-hey, where'd you think you're going?" She trailed behind the stranger holding the beverage, voice fading away from the crowd. Giving up, she returned to a scene of pure victory–one that she regretfully missed. "Yeah, you don't want it back."

“So there’s this Scottish Christmas tradition where we make something called Yule bread, and everybody in the family gets their own loaf. And there’s a little trinket – kind of like the plastic baby in a king cake for Mardi Gras, I guess – baked in one of the loaves, and whoever finds it is supposed to have good luck all year.” Cal chuckled. “The problem is, Mum was also making a Twelfth Night Cake, which involves a fair bit of whiskey in the recipe – long story short, she got a bit drunk and forgot to put the trinket in one of the loaves. I guess everybody in the family is gonna have an average year, at best.”

"That's pretty rad." Heather's smile lessened and brows creased at the problem he was explaining. "Dang it Mama," she snapped her fingers at the letdown. While disappointed at the failure to execute the tradition, a laugh followed at Cal's concluding statement. "Did everyone know about the mishap, or were people left to scramble for the imaginary trinket?"

Natalia: I used to LOVE new years and going to parties and all that until I got caught up in the fact that it's basically like partying any other night. I think it's because everyone's got such high expectations of the night that when it's like any other night or party it seems more shitty. ANYWAY...

Natalia: So that means you're down for late night ice cream sometime, right? Speaking of ice cream, your gift was SO sweet and I baked three pies today. If that's not how to spend a day off right, I don't know what is. But yeah, thank you

Natalia: His name is Duke and he's a German Shepherd lab mix. I think I might have to quit work to be a full time mom. That sounds nice! Do you live with your parents?

Heather: you've got a point. there's always high expectations of the night.

Heather: I had my first kiss at 14 on New Years. it was awkward. his family was there. watching. mm yeah. terrible. all that anticipation. it was dumb to plan it like that. I'm not forever scarred by it or anything, midnight kisses are cute. what's not cute is when oldies ask me if I have a boyfriend to kiss when the ball drops and the clock strikes twelve. I know they're teasing, but it's like. so what if I don't have a boy or girl to kiss? please be quiet, Edna

Heather: okay, rant over. block my number. though if you still wanna hang, we can totally do late night ice cream. yay weeeeee I'm so glad!

One minute he was grinning, approaching a laugh at Heather’s slightly dramatic but wholly appreciated round of applause, and because the cookie really was that good. The next minute, his gaze was following hers, seeing the cookie crashed upon the ground, inedible. “Shit. Okay, I’m gonna get you a replacement, ‘cause you can’t go getting all excited for a cookie and not actually get to eat the cookie.”

"Should you really do that, though?" Heather glanced at the busy counter, frowning. She knew it was unwise to turn down a replacement cookie, but it was also unfair on his part. "This is kind of an injustice. I appreciate you coming to save the day, truly. Honestly, the packaging was all wrong." Crouching, a hand swiftly picked up the crumbly disaster. "I should probably present my case to the front and have you as my witness."

Natalia: Is it weird that last night was the best New Years I've had in awhile?

Natalia: I mean what can be better than hearing fucked up stories from the sixties and 3am ice cream?

Natalia: I also bought a dog this morning...NEW YEAR, NEW ME. Anyway...what'd you get up to last night?

Heather: no I don't think so, even if I may not know why you ask about it being potentially weird, I've personally known some New Years celebrations to be on a sucky/boring scale. so bottom line, not weird if last night qualified for being the best in a while.

Heather: I totally second that 3am ice cream. such a good thing. stories and sweets, that's a good combo.

I warned you that gift giving wasn’t my strong suit. I decided to go with a trio of cliche I’m not sure what to get you items. I went the extra mile and made them science themed for you. Hopefully at least one of them are put to good use.

Socks, bath bombs, and candles. Those always come in handy, don’t they?

Merry Christmas, Heather.

Merry Christmas sis,

I have some things for you, I keep picking up random things as I bounce from here in Charlotte over to Raleigh - so I have like a shoe box worth of little “souvenirs” to deliver when I come back home. It’s a little weird, to be calling Wilmington home now, but I guess that’s officially the case these days. My parents called, they send you their best wishes as well. Expect some cheesy holiday card in the mail from them too.

Miss you, 

Sinatra sends some kisses.

“Practical Secret Santa, huh! With glitter? You’re speaking my language! Happy wishes back at ya, my friend. And as a matter of fact, tube socks are definitely Heather approved...especially in this weather.”

“I’ve totally been nice this year. I can promise you. Okay, okay. Maybe I could’ve given an eyeroll or two at someone, and maybe I could’ve been less of a brat towards family sometimes. Now I’m only explaining myself because if I just left it at ‘totally been nice’ it sounds so bleh, y’know? Like am I really being truthful? ‘Cause I am. Curse my over explaining tongue. Thanks for looking out, Secret Santa—while also keeping a respectable distance. Hugs to you!”

“Look, I’m not saying I was sceptical,” Matias said with a smile, though obviously he had been just that. “But I’m happy to report the chocolate chip cookie passes muster.” It was, in his opinion, a little ridiculous that what was probably the most common, most popular desert out there seemed so difficult to get right. Too-often, the cookie would be crumbly or hard, with not nearly enough chocolate. Or the cookie was too small, too thick, simply the wrong proportions. This cookie, however, was none of those things; it was practically folded in two, the chocolate soft and melting. Laughing slightly, he lifted the drooping cookie to his mouth and took a bite. “How’s yours?

Returning a smile in approval, Heather applauded lightly at Matias' chocolate chip cookie report. What she failed to do though, was keep her attention on the thin square bag carrying her own peanut butter M&M cookie. Of course it'd been taped improperly—resulting in an obvious weight being released from the paper sleeve in hand. She was afraid to glance down on the floor but did it anyway, considering it'd been too late. "I wish I knew."