wouldn't you like to get away?

“I’d stop you from eating sand once you, like, got in trouble for it, for sure, but I probably wouldn’t have seen a problem with it until then. I kind of, um - I’m cutting this out, too, but I maybe… I maybe attempted to eat a couple of crayons, like, once or twice, maybe. But, um, anyway!” She clapped her hands together, holding the mascara between both of them. “Yeah, so, I’m gonna do your mascara before your eyeshadow, right? Because it’s really easy to mess up mascara on other people and I don’t wanna, like, do your eyeshadow all nice and then ruin it, you know?” She unscrewed the cap off and carefully pushed the bottle in between her ankles, which were already pressed together due to her sitting criss-cross-applesauce. “I think I probably would’ve learned how to do make up on you if I’d known you forever.”

Logan waved his hand dismissively, assuring there was not a chance in hell he was going to reveal her crayon secret. There was no bullshit and no drama with Madison. What he saw was what he got and he loved what he got. Logan had a crush on her ever since he laid eyes on her and it deepened to love (albeit puppy love) when he first heard her speak. And he never thought she was dumb. Naive, maybe, but only for the reason she had such an optimistic outlook toward life and saw the best in everyone. Including him. 

“I’ve got Asian eyelashes, Mads, so you’re probably gonna have to coat on a lot of that. But you’re the expert here. I’m just along for the ride.” He would have enjoyed every moment of her company growing up, because he knew he’d have at least one friend. It’d be different from the reality of his childhood. “You would have been there through the puberty and the zits and awkward voice cracks. You wouldn’t have wanted to do makeup on me.”

“But for all your fans out there,” he began, knowing that the fans he’d been referring to was his mom, Chris and a few guys from the team, “what are you hoping to get out of your beauty channel?”

Emily was at a crossroads. She really, really should study, but helping Kaitlyn was just so much more appealing. She could do both, maybe? She guessed she could probably work out a way to do both. She could try, at least. She sat down on the edge of her bed and leaned back to grab her textbook from her pillows. As she straightened back up, she said, “Emily Allen is terrible at time management, so you maybe don’t actually want to be her. You should pick out a few things while I study and then I’ll help you narrow it down.”

“You found a way to write a thousand page essay in one night because you’re here on an academic scholarship. You’re just totally unreal, Em.” While they’ve had certain disagreements, it was no secret that Kaitlyn held Emily to her highest regard. In her eyes, her bestie could do no wrong. She pulled a blue and white floral fit and flare dress with a cream shall then a siren red bodycon dress and paired it with a leather jacket. “Sweet and sassy, or dangerous and daring? Wait, you’re going to the party too, right? Like you have to go.”

“Hey!” Brandon was almost chirping his words as he wrapped his arms around his friend. “I’m touched that you bet in my favor. It really means a lot.” He gave Zig a couple of pats on the back before he pulled back, but only far enough to allow him to put his hands on his shoulders. Brandon was suddenly acutely aware of how much he’d actually missed Zig. Obviously he’d missed Zig, just like he missed everyone else, but missing Zack had eclipsed everything else.  Now that he was face to face with Zig, he regretted not actively trying to push things around and make some time to see him. Brandon squeezed both of his shoulders and grinned. “How’ve you been, buddy? I hear it’s been going good. Mostly. I also heard that you hit a guy at Kaitlyn’s band’s show, but I assume you had a reason, not that I approve.”

Zig looked to the floor sheepishly at the mention of the tiny brawl that occurred at the concert; it wasn’t exactly the image he wanted to convey to the rest of the group. He’d already been fighting the stereotype of a teenage convict. The last problem he needed was to be deemed the aggressive, violent one of the group. Fiery and impulsive. “I punched Delacroix,” he said lowly, giving his friend a half-shrug. “I only shoved the guy who knocked Emily to the ground. At the risk of sounding like a chauvinistic cliche, I was defending her. She could have really gotten hurt.” Guilt would have come over him in waves, knowing that he was there beside her all night and not able to protect her. He waved to the manager who sat on his ass in the back, indicating he was taking his ten minute break then sat down with Brandon at one of the tables. “Tell me about Peru, man. What does it feel like to be back in sad, sad America? Must be nice to be ‘round your beau, though. Not that I’m jealous or anything.”

“Corporations have everything online, but mom and pop places usually like to see your face. Honestly, who wouldn’t wanna see your face?” Chris added playfully as he nudged her, mostly just trying to lighten the mood. He swallowed, feeling his nerves build as they both stared at her computer screen. Hesitant, he flexed his fingers, then put his hand on her back so fast that the motion was almost a smack. He winced and pulled his hand back, immediately bringing it to the back of his head. “Sorry, saw a bug. Anyway, a lot of places, probably. You have experience supervising, pretty much, and you know about make up, right? That’s kind of experience if you apply to Sephora or something.”

The smile that quirked at her lips flashed so fast that with one blink it had disappeared. It was no doubt that Chris was just a good guy; he was considerate and charming. Hell, everyone in Kappa wanted him and she had him. Her sorority sisters called her lucky. Some days, like this one where his compliments actually warmed her self-deemed ice cold heart, she believed it. 

Becca smirked. His ideas weren’t half bad. What do you know? Her boyfriend was smart, too. “Sephora doesn’t sound like a total disaster. But I’m not sure if asked I’d want to touch other people’s faces. Don’t know where they’ve been and what kinda of icky oils they have hiding under their skin. And do you really trust me of all people to keep my mouth shut when someone with jacked up foundation walks in the store? What else you got?”

“I had to rush out, but Zack is coming back in a little, he said he’d bring coffee back for you.” She set her own down on her bedside table as she said it, trying not to sound as embarrassed as she felt. Truth be told, she did feel bad about not bringing back a drink for her friend, but she also definitely had the moral highground in this situation, and she wasn’t going to lose it. She could sometimes be a little bit pushy and a little bit stupid. She didn’t often have the moral highground. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. She considered milking it for a second but ultimately decided against it, heading over to join Kaitlyn at the closet. “You’re totally fine, though, you could’ve just texted if you wanted to borrow something. I’m only so cute because you help me get dressed, like, all the time, so my closet’s pretty much your closet by now. I would prefer a text beforehand, though, in the future, but it’s no big deal.”

Kaitlyn’s texting skills were terrible. She would go hours, even days at a time without responding to one and if she didn’t live with her best friends then they probably would never talk. And truthfully, Kaitlyn dressed Emily like the way she would want to dress herself if she could pull it off. While Kaitlyn was short and lanky, Emily was tall and fuller. She looked better than Kaitlyn in everything. “Tell me how you would dress me then? Turn me into Emily Allen.”

“I had the really big 120 pack growing up! It had a sharpener and everything. I was talking to - oh, my god, I’m gonna have to cut this out, because I don’t wanna embarrass Becca, like, at all, but we were all up in the house talking one night, and me and one of the sisters actually grew up like, a school zone away from each other, right? So we all got to talking about if we had grown up together, and I would’ve totally loved to grow up with any of the girls, especially Becca, because I love her to death, but like - oh, my god, if I had, she totally would’ve broken every single crayon! All 120! You know? Like, she definitely would’ve, right?” It was only after she finished speaking and was picking up her mascara that she’d processed anything he said after mentioning the big packs of crayons. She brought up her free hand to rest her chin on, then waved the hand that held the bottle of makeup, saying, “Waitwaitwait, hold on, before I answer your question, you’re actually, like colorblind? What kind of colorblind are you? Like, red-green, or? Have you told me this before? I’m so sorry if you did, I’m completely spacing.”

When Madison started her vlogging channel, it didn’t take much convincing for Logan to agree to be in some of her videos. Then some turned into most and there was truly no turning back. He’s learned more about makeup in the past few months than he’s learned about American History in his entire educational career. Although what he still didn’t understand was why Madison was so utterly loyal to Becca; she was terrible to her. Even just hearing her crayon story just proved that it was worldwide belief that Becca Davenport had been evil since birth. “Becca would have broken them and then burned them in the fireplace for good measure,” he snorted. Logan leaned back when Madison started waving the mascara bottle around because otherwise she might poke his eye out. “Nononono!” And he held his hand out the camera lens and looked sincerely as if the audience were watching live. “To all the colorblind people out there I’m not colorblind--just someone that doesn’t know his fuschias from his magentas. I am dyslexic though. Made college hard and I can’t watch foreign films.” He closed his eyes and faced Madison again. “What if you and I went to school together growing up? You’d probably stop me from eating sand.”

“I can help you do it, no problem, but job applications are more intensive than you think. They have to know your social security and your past experience and if you have any volunteer hours and I just don’t know any of that.” Come to think of it, he didn’t really know much about her at all, but Chris had enough tact not to bring that up now, even if it was going to bother him until he got a chance to. “Come on, don’t fight me on this, it’s just wasting time. We have a lot to get through, so let’s just get started, okay? Are you applying online or did you go in person and get paper applications?”

“Well, when I was in Kappa, it was mandatory that perform eight hours of community service a month. If that helps anything at all. I mean, a lot of it was just my telling what the other girls to do. Have you ever served food to a homeless man with a fresh manicure?” Past job experience? Becca never had to work a day in her life because everything was provided for her. The divorce was eating up her parents’ funds and it wasn’t fair. Why did it have to affect her? At Chris’s words, she narrowed her eyes at home and tongued her teeth. “Fine. Since you think this is such a waste of time, let’s get to it. I didn’t think they still did in-person applications. It’s 2018, they need to get with the times. I don’t have any physical papers.” She opened up her laptop to a browser, then she got stuck. “I don’t even know where to start.” Her face started warming up. She had no past job experience, nothing to put on her resume. How was she supposed to do this? “Chris, what kind of jobs would take me?”

With so much on her plate, Emily almost felt guilty for taking a coffee break. It was much needed, because without the caffeine and the moment to breathe, she was going to crash, but going to the coffee shop almost always led to hanging out at the coffee shop. She’d only really added ten more minutes onto the trip, but between walking there and waiting on the line and ordering and walking back, she’d been gone for the better part of an hour. Any other time, that’d be a welcome distraction, but this was one of her only free days and she had to use it to study. She was just getting back to her place right now, fumbling with her keys for a moment before making her way inside. She kicked off her shoes as quietly as possible, wanting to settle into her room and get back into studying before anyone even realized she was home. That plan was, however, interrupted by the unexpected presence in her room. Surprised, she tightened her grip on her coffee to keep it from slipping out of her hand, asking, “Kaitlyn?”

Startled, Kaitlyn jumped at the sound of Emily’s voice and held onto the hangers for dear life; she was already in her room without permission, the least she could do was keep her clothes unwrinkled. “Emily, I didn’t hear you walk into the apartment.” A blush harsh on her cheeks, she kept her gaze anywhere but her best friend’s face. “I hope you got me coffee too.” She sheepishly returned the items back to where they were hung in their closet, but brushed her fingers against the fabric as if to say a heartfelt farewell. “I’m sorry that I’m in here. Really, I was looking for an outfit to wear for the Kappa’s party tonight and… you always seem to be the cutest one there.” Kaitlyn was toeing the carpet now, fidgeting with her fingers and the magenta that painted her cheeks went deeper.

“I don’t know if having trouble telling the difference between similar shades would count as colorblindness? I guess maybe?” Madison paused to think, furrowing her eyebrows. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders and resumed what she was doing, patting her brush into the peachy nude color. Cheerfully, she exclaimed, “Whatever! Doesn’t really matter. I think this one’ll better with your skin tone. Close your eyes, please.”

Logan only nodded along with a grin, listening and absorbing every word Madison said because at this point he would follow her to the ends of the earth if she told him to. “When I was a kid I got frustrated when there were those, um--you know those packs with 96 crayon colors. Because why was there so much purple. So much grey. All of it between,” he mused, finally shutting his eyes. “Why do you like makeup so much? It’s not like you need it. You look great with it and without it.” It was question he’d been curious of since they started dating, and he wanted to know everything about her.

“I don’t even know your past job experience.” Chris blurted, taken offguard not only by the request, but also what she chose to focus on. “And is that - is that really a pressing concern right now? Don’t you - do you wanna talk about, like, your parents? I mean, we don’t have to, but we, you know, can. If you wanted to. But, uh, yeah, I’ll help, but I’m not… applying to jobs for you.”

Becca scoffed, almost offended that he questioned her decisions. “Chris, I don’t want to talk about my parents. Bo-ring.” She turned her head away from him as she swallowed the lump in her throat, straightened out her skirt, and ran her fingers through her hair. “Chris,” then she returned her attention to him, “don’t you understand that if I don’t get a job then that means no money, no fun date nights for us. Not to mention everyone at Kappa is going to hate me. Except for Madison because I don’t think she knows how a bank account works. You have to do this for me, baby. You just have to. It’s easy. Just put down what you know about me.”

“Mads, I hate to break it to ya but I think I might be color blind. I can’t tell the different between coral and a peachy nude and I’m sure as hell not sure which one would be better as a transition shade for my eyelids.”

Peering left and right, her lips curled into a sneaky grin before she entered Emily’s bedroom. She tiptoed further in as if her socks were to make noise on the carpet. Emily always had the best clothes and it was only fair as best friends and roommates that they’d share. Kaitlyn began to peruse through her closet, pulling blazers and blouses out to hold up to her torso to see if she could pull it off all the same. With her short attention span, she was unaware that anyone else was in the apartment.

“Sweetie, what I’m asking is not that difficult,” she started, sitting primly and properly beside her boyfriend, “it’s just that with my parents’ divorce it turns out that I need to get a job so now you have to fill out all of my job forms and then get back to me.”

“I didn’t bring anything!” Chris shouted, swept up in the panic. He took a deep breath and tried to focus, pulling in his options. They were on campus, away from the dorms, so there weren’t any convenience stores or mini fridges they could hit up. The closest thing to them was the coffee shop, and they’d have something, ice, maybe, they had to, and if he ran he’d be there and back in a few minutes, but he wasn’t sure Logan would even still need ice in a few minutes. Then again, looking at him now, it seemed impossible that he wouldn’t. Chris nodded to himself and bounced on his toes, psyching himself up. “Alright. Okay. Alright, alright, alright, I’m gonna - I’m gonna run to the coffee shop and grab some ice, alright?”

It would be so embarrassing right now if Madison saw him because he was, like, crying. “Don’t leave me!” he cried, fingers vying for Chris’s arm. Slowly, oh so slowly, but surely the burning sensation on his taste buds was fading but his body felt like it was sent to a different dimension. “Why’d you make me do this man?”

“I’ll take it.” He smiled, more to placate her than anything else, and it felt heavy and wrong, more like running a mile than changing his expression. It took more muscles to frown than to smile and it was cheesy and corny and not like anything Horatio liked, but he’d been reminding himself of that a lot lately, like a mantra, almost. He rubbed his face, scrubbed a hand across the back of his head again, dropped it took his neck, nodded his head again. “Alright. What do you wanna see first?”

“Did I ever mention that you’re the best?” She reached up and cupped his face in her soft palms and kissed both of his cheeks. “How about the Haight? Sometimes people jump to conclusions on the area and I can write--I mean, we can write about how beautiful it is on a deeper level.”

Horatio raised his eyebrows, eyes darting from her face to the hand on his arm. “Oh, no.” He said, shaking his head. “Oh, no, I - Dani, I couldn’t.” Truth was, he wasn’t up for much of anything these days, despite how often he was still dragged into them. The destruction of the Double Tap weighed on him heavier than he’d like to admit and he didn’t quite feel like being on his feet all day, acting as a tour guide - it all just seemed incredibly overwhelming. He rubbed the back of his head and sighed, caving before Dani even had the chance to argue. “I’ll show you around.”

One important quip to understand about Daniella Pabalan was that she didn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer when it came to needing a favor. Furthermore, she also never said ‘no’ when a friend needed a favor from her. Her hopes were high as she batted her lashes with a slight pout, though she knew the outcome would be on her side. Horatio relented and she was all smiles. But he wasn’t; Dani traced the exhaustion and sadness in his eyes. After the fire and the sudden change in his everyday scenery, she figured this could be what needed. “You won’t regret this, scout’s honor.” She laughed. “Well, I was never a Girl Scout, so you’re just going too have to take ‘I promise’, no matter the cliche.”