#somertonstarter

where: breakfast at timothy’s 

when: December 6th, 2020

It’s rude to be on her her laptop when she’s with company -- a fact her lil stepbro reminds her weekly at family dinner -- but her company isn’t here yet and patience has never been one of Robin’s virtues so why not get some work done while she waits, right? What Aiden doesn’t know, won’t hurt him. 

Photoshop open, project loaded, wifi connected -- now to find some background noise. But when Netflix loads instead of the quintessential ta-dum she is met with silence. Her brows furrow as she minimizes her work e-mail to investigate the problem. A message. 

She reads it once. Then again before popping out an earbud to announce to the room, “dude, what the fuck? Netflix is raising their fee again?” Perhaps not earth shattering news but nevertheless the frowns (pouts, really) at the screen. “Eighteen bucks for premium, they’re really trying to get my ex to kick me off his account, huh? Unbelievable.” Well that settles it, she’s definitely getting cheesy fries. 

where: busted park high school 

when: during the snow storm

Make the best of a shit situation, that’s what her dad always said. Make the best of a shit situation. And snow-mageddon? That is some peak shit. So, Robin is determined to make the best of it. She figures she doesn’t have much to bring to the table. She can’t cook, her cleaning skills are sub-par at best, and the sight of blood (even superficially) makes her woozy. But she can perform and what to lift some spirits than an impromptu concert, right? Laughter may be the best medicine, but she’s pretty sure it comes in second. Even without the rest of Pickleback to join her. People loved a good sing along. 

It was easy to con her little step bro into into pup-sitting Timon and Pumba (he’s still young enough to think getting paid in chocolate dollars is a good deal), and she’d been prudent enough to grab her acoustic guitar on the way out the door, but the stupid string had snapped while she was tuning and she’s not really feeling acapella today. Just her luck! So she’d snuck out of the gymnasium, into the all too familiar halls of the school she used to call her own, taking the quickest path to her old music room. It’s a weird sort of nostalgia that one can only feel when they’ve had enough distance from something to see it for what it really was. High school had sucked, but now she has the clarity too see it for what is -- a building. 

She’s rooting through a closet when she hears foot steps approach and immediately she’s hurled back into her youth, back when the worst consequence for sneaking into an empty classroom was a visit to the principal’s office. Crap! “I’m not stealing, I swear,” she calls out, popping out of the closet to meet the other’s gaze with wide guilt ridden eyes.