#wilmystarter

After a few months, this sort of became a regular thing. Megan would see her biological son, much to this parent's delight, biweekly or even weekly depending on their babysitting situation. Sometimes they were back at hers and her ex-girlfriend’s place. Others they were out for ice cream or a movie. Some days she just helped Noah with his homework and that was it. The fact that she was at the park playing Frisbee with him was just natural. With a wide smile, she watched him fling it. That smile? It immediately dropped when it hit a someone passing by. Immediately, she rushed up to them. Apologies were rattling off before she even got there. “I'm so sorry...,” she practically shouted, although, not too worried. After all, it was a frisbee. Little harm could be done by the force of a seven-year-old. “Are you uh... alright?” The question came out slowly once she in front of them and able to catch her breath.

Samantha’s hang out as of late seemed to be the closest bar to her apartment. She wasn’t even that big of a drinker, but for some reason, she found the environment comforting. Likely because of the time she spent at them with her partner while roaming around for work. Spotting an open stool at the bar, Sam sat down and ordered herself a beer. “Gotta say this bar may be the only thing I missed about this town. But the cable in my apartment is so much better than it is in shitty hotels. So, for once I may actually be able to watch the Stanley Cup without it cutting out. I’m calling the Pens, they’re basically like the Patriots of hockey. Don’tcha think?”

“Listen, are you sure you didn’t see that thing that ran by?” Elon couldn’t help but sigh before they could even answer him. He was sure that they just didn’t realize what he was asking. He began to make motions to help, his hand extending from his mouth to indicate teeth. “It was huge! I’m talking big teeth, big ears stuff. Straight out of that American kids book.” He racked his brain for the word, but it seemed to be stuck at the tip of his tongue. “The one with the wolf and the hood. Do you know what I’m talking about?” Elon’s chatter seemed to switch subject instantly before he snapped his fingers back in the direction he had came from moments ago. “Anyways, do you think it could have been a wolf I saw?” His hands twitched before he started at the motions again when he didn’t get a response. “They look like this, c’mon, you know what I’m talking about, right?” 

“Can anybody explain to me why orange juice pulp is apparently like kryptonite to small children?”

Morgan practically looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Or really, her natural hair--which she loathed--always seemed to be in a constant state of unkemptness. With her current living situation being tricky (that was one word for it), the brunette had barely any time to fire up the flat irons. She was even still wearing her black-rimmed glasses. There was still some data analysis to do and re-checks of student projects, but she was going to go nuts if she had to stare at the four walls of her bedroom again. Megan had come back early, catching the marine biologist on the couch. And to relieve some of the ever-present awkwardness between them, Morgan quietly ducked her head, murmuring something about needing to go to the supermarket without room for a word to be wedged in. She’d been standing in the same aisle for 20 minutes now, staring at the different soup cans. The clearing of a voice beside her came into earshot. “Oh, sorry,” she excused herself, taking a step to the side to stop blocking the products. “Pretty indecisive over here...chicken noodle or vegetable? The real questions to be asking.”

“Whoever invented Oreos is, really, a pure genius --- Now, if only I can get some water to go with.”

“Can we just skip the small talk? Every person I’ve met in this town I’ve had sit through an hour of meaningless bullshit small talk. Let’s talk about something interesting, like....where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex? See, now that’s interesting.” He smirked.