#undorestart

   “D’you mind if I sit here, Mr. Colossus?” The school yard is tumbleweed empty during class hours and still it’s come to this. The knees and the seat of Isserley’s jeans are green with grass trimmings, but she tightens her books against her stomach to emphasize against evidence -- bench is needed, for school stuff, probably, please.

     “Oi, who died and put you in charge of fashion? This is a perfectly respectable beach outfit. I’m beach ready. Always am.” He wiggles his toes in his shoes, which he doesn’t want to tell her are already full of sand, because then she’ll have a point.

   “No, I don’t think I’ve ever used a rifle before, now you mention it.” His own answer surprises him. On second thought he confesses: “I’ve never been hunting. I know this. For a fact, actually. No doubts about it.” But he doesn’t seem reticent about the idea. John leans on his toes with eyes down and brows up waiting for Darby to, perchance, make a suggestion based on this information.

     ‘ i think my ankle’s broken, can ankles break? i know for a fact they sprain, i just feel like it hurts too much to not be broken. ’ she’s sitting with one leg crossed over the other, rubbing tenderly at the bruise in question. ollie may not be a medical professional, but she’s right to guess that it isn’t alright. it sucks to walk on, and worse, it sucks to skate on.