#woc!oc

“Sorry, Papa E.” I give him a sheepish smile, book marking my page, as I sit up on my bed motioning for him to sit as well, “You now have my full attention.”

“Just wondering how you liked the trip over here.” He gives me one of his rare smiles, as he takes a peak at my book, “Homeric Hymn to Demeter, eh? Getting some light reading done before the semester starts?”

I can’t stop the smile that finds its way to my face as I admire the worn book cover, “Something like that, yeah… but I already graduated, remember?”

“Oh, yeah… It’s this growing old business, I tell ya. Don’t do it!” Papa Emerson furrowed his brow staring at a spot on the floor, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on his face, which caused him to give me a questioning glance before he started laughing himself. After a few moments, we clam down, and he pats my knee, smiling as he does.

“That was a good laugh, but as far as growing old goes, I don’t think I have much choice.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s true. Can’t live forever.” There’s something odd about what he said, almost as if he doesn’t actually believe it. I can’t help but look at Papa’s face questioningly, as he gazes back at that spot on the floor. A beat of silence passes between us, and before I can question his words, it’s broken by Sam and Michael running down the stairs.

“Those boys are going to tear my house apart.” There’s a grumble in Papa E’s voice as he casts his eyes to my closed door, sending his own hard glare through– like he’s willing those two idiots to stop. Chuckling, I shake my head at his antics, nudging his shoulder.

“Gramps, no matter how hard you glare at the door, and try to send a telepathic command to those buffoons, they’ll never stop… Unless, you know, they break something.” I sigh as I hear Sam’s muffled yell coming from downstairs, and Michael’s panicked voice as the sound of glass reaches our ears, “See.”

“BOYS!” Mom isn’t one to yell– not to me anyway– but when she’s had enough of the bullshit, she’ll let you know, and right now, she’s done with Sam and Mikey, “If you aren’t going to help, go expel all the energy outside.”

Papa E sighs deeply, rubbing his face as he worries about what just broke. Getting up, I walk to my door, glancing out, mom’s already found the dustpan and started cleaning up the broke mug.

“It’s alright Pops, it was one of the mugs I made in ceramics a while back.” Shrugging, I sit back down, smiling at him, “I made it for dad, but I guess it wasn’t something he cared for since it's here.”

“You know, your mother is the only woman I know, that gets the worst deal out of a divorce.” Grandpa looks up at me and laughs at the deadpan look I give him.

“Well, she married a dick, whaddaya expect?... Plus, she’s just so… so…” Sneering at my hands, I try to think of the right word, thankfully grandpa pitches in. 

“Nice?”

“Yes! Like that bastard made your life miserable! Be angry, have rage! You’re entitled to it!” I don’t even try to hide my own distaste for mom’s civil approach to everything, “I don’t understand why– or how she’s so calm about all this?! He basically kicked us out of the house, because he isn’t man enough to go work and find his own place to stay.” By now, I’m pacing around my room, throwing my arms around, glaring at an invisible person as I give them a piece of my mind, “Like, dude, you kicked out your OWN KIDS! If I ever see his face again, it’ll be too soon.”

“Seems like you’re picking up the slack on that anger.” Papa E, has an awkward kind of smile, as he watches me with raised brows, “How do the boys feel about this?”

Sighing, I sit back down, picking at the threads of my ripped jeans, “Sammy is only 14 and has this thought that if it doesn’t work out here, we’ll go back to Phoenix, and dad will magically take us back… and Michael… Mike thinks he’s unbothered, cool, and in control of his very fragile 17-year-old life. I think he thinks that if he doesn’t talk about it, it's not going to bother him, but it does– it bugs the hell out of all of us. I can hide it better, but this is Mikey’s own father. How do you just roll with the thought of your own father dumping you and making you fend for yourself?... That piece of shit.”

“Hey.” Grandpa gives me face for my language, to which I apologize for, “... Well, I suppose I can’t be too hard on you… You’ve always been my favorite.”

Laughing, I lightly push his shoulder, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I helped you with your taxidermy when I was 7, would it?”

“... Maybe…?”

“Oh geez Gramps.” Sharing a chuckle, I recall when mom found the two of us in his ‘secret red room’ and totally flipped because my skin was turning red from the formaldehyde. On top of that, my throat got super irritated, and I was grounded, forbidden, and banned from Gramps’ workshop– by mom, “Remember when mom came in looking for me, and her eyes totally fell on the floor from how red I looked–”

“-- HA! Do I ever– and I said, ‘Lucy, relax, we’re in a red lit room course she’s going to look red’.”

“Oh my god, YES! And she pulled me out into the living room, then grandma came in from the kitchen, wondering what all the fuss was about.”

“... Yup… She wasn’t too happy.” He lightly chuckles at the memory of grandma walking out in a dirty apron and a wooden spoon with cookie dough on it, then the calm expression on her face morphing to extreme panic. She also ‘grounded’ Grandpa, but not before giving him an earful about responsibility and how not to let children play with dangerous chemicals. 

He was banned from his red room for the next 4 weeks; so he taught me to ride a horse instead… and that is its own can of worms. Let's just say that mom freaks whenever I’m close to a horse.

“I had so much fun, though, I was so annoyed that they weren’t listening to me.”

“Yeah, well, they were just looking out for you. You can’t blame them for doting on you, you’re the only girl, after all.” Papa E gives me a gentle smile as I all but forget my previous anger. 

“That’s true.” A comfortable silence fills the space as we sit side by side, then I hear the faint sounds of the horses neighing, “... Can I go ride a horse?”

“What?!” Grandpa snaps his head to me so quickly, I thought he gave himself whiplash for a second, I can’t stop the snort from the look on his face, “And give your mother another conniption, no, thank you. I plan to live the rest of my days as stress-free as I possibly can.”

“Ah, come on!” I smile widely at him as he gets up, disgruntled, and making his way to my door, “~It’ll be fun~.”

“No.” He points a finger at me sternly, but I still smile at him, mischief dancing in my eyes, “I mean it, Alex. Give your mother a break.”

Losing my smile, I nod my head, picking up my book, “Fine, I’ll just do some more ‘light reading’ then.”

“What about unpacking?”

“I’ll do it later.” 

Laying down, I hold up my book, feeling bored and less enthused about the move. I’m not even reading what’s on the page, just aimlessly flipping through, wondering how in the hell am I going to make living here worth it.

I could get a job to help mom out, but Mike said there wasn’t anything legal around. How does Papa E pay the bills? He’s been retired for ages, but he owns a good bit of land, he has to have some way to keep the lights on, and feed not only himself but the horses also… He does have all that weed in the back…

“Maybe there’s a kitchen hiring?... Nah, that’s not happening, I don’t even like washing my own dishes. Damn, this growing up stuff is hard.” I huff out, slamming my book down on my lap. Turning on my side, I stare at my ‘Return of the Jedi’ poster, “What would Yoda do?... Okay, well, I’m not living in the swamp, so that’s out. Can’t join the ‘Living Force’ either… I could do a Princess Leia and kill my pimp, haha! Yeah, that sounds like a great time… Nanook’s my Chewbacca.--”

“--Knock, knock.” Sitting up on my elbows, I’m greeted with my mom’s serene face, peeking in through my doorway, “Hey Pumpkin, I saw your door was open.”

“It seems that everyone forgets to close it once they leave.” I roll my eyes, but motion for her to enter. I don’t miss her ‘subtly’ looking around my room– one Return of the Jedi poster, a stack of boxes in the corner, a few clothes hanging in the closet, a suitcase open and messy, a half filled bookshelf, a pair of boots, flip-flops, and 4 pairs of sneakers thrown about the room, “At least I started… and made my bed. Did the boys even make their beds?”

Mom playfully rolls her eyes at me, sitting on my bed with a bounce, “No they didn’t, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then, pray tell, O’ dear mother of mine: Why hast thou entered mine sacred domain?” Mom lets out a small laugh at the way I dramatically lower my voice, answering in a high-pitched one in return.

“I have come to inquire, if thou– O’ Great One, wishes to be in attendance with thine brothers and I for a trip to the boardwalk?”

“Eh, sounds crowded.” Grinning at mom, I give her a light shrug.

“They have games.” She presses.

“Sounds loud.” I deflate slightly, losing my smile.

“Food?” She offers.

“Sounds like a stomach ache.” I grimace.

“... Boys?” She’s grasping at straws.

“Boys you say?” I’m intrigued, “Tell me more.”

“Oh you.” She hits my leg, and I laugh at her growing smile. Shaking her head, she continues, “I’m going to be looking for work, but I figured it would be a good time for you and the boys to go out and have some fun… So, would you like to come with us?”

“... Sure, someone needs to watch those two.” 

“Thank you, but I just want you all to have fun, make some friends.”

“Mom… Me? Make friends? I haven’t ‘made’ friends since I was 10 years old. Besides, friends are so overrated.” 

“Oh, pooh.” She swings the pillow at me, hitting the top of my head. Smiling, I dramatically fall back on the bed, “Come on, get ready, your majesty.”

“But I am ready.” I look down at my very wrinkled Queen t-shirt.

“Alex. You really what to wear those clothes?” She wrinkles her nose at my day-old clothes, then starts rummaging through my suitcase, “What about this? You’ll look so cute!”

“Mom, I hate pink… Plus, I think that’s yours.” We both tilt our heads to the side, looking at the blouse.

“Oh! This is mine. How’d it end up in your clothes?”

“I dunno.” Getting up, I pull out a cropped black and purple striped bowling shirt, “How ‘bout this, with the acid washed jeans, and… hmm… these paint splattered converse?”

“Very nice… Wait, isn’t that your father’s shirt?”

Chuckling, I look at the cut shirt with pride, “Yeah, but after it met my scissors in an unfortunate accident it became mine.”

“Oh, Alex!” Mom gives me a disapproving stare, before she smiles, “It looks better on you anyway.”

“Duh, everything does.” Tossing the shirt on the bed, I search for my towel, “Thought we’ve been over this before, mom?”

“Silly me, I must’ve forgotten.” Leaning against my door frame, she keeps her smile pointing at my leather jacket, “Remember to bring a jacket, it gets a little chilly here at night.”

“It’s like we never left Arizona.” Mom chortles at my joke, as I press a kiss to her cheek. Making my way to the boys' bathroom, I add, “I’ll be ready in 15.”

………

“So you think mom will be able to find a job in this hellhole?” I spare Michael a glance, waiting for his answer as we work our way through the crowd on the boardwalk. Part of me wishes I just stayed with mom while she did her job hunting, but I know she’d shoo me away to ‘go have fun’ and to ‘be young and happy’. 

God bless that woman.

“Dunno, maybe. I hope so.” He tugs his jacket tightly around himself, as we brush past people, who are trying to get a good spot on the beach. He watches our surroundings like a hawk tugging Sam out of the way every now and again as people aimlessly walk around, probably trying to pickpockets as they bump shoulders with everyone, “If not, we need to get jobs.”

“Yeah, we know how much you guys hate working.” Sammy gives us a playful sneer, and I shove him lightly ruffling his hair in the process, “Hey! Watch it, Alex!”

“You’re such a drama queen, Sammy.” I chuckle, rolling my eyes at our younger brother.

“Am not!” Sam tries to punch my arm, but I take a big step forward, making him punch Mike instead. He gives Michael a sheepish look before running ahead of us, tugging on one of my braids in the process.

“Whatever.” I glare at Sam as he sticks his tongue out at me, while I lightly hit Mike’s chest and point to the different stands on the boardwalk, “I’m gonna go check those out.”

“What about the concert?” Sam’s face is full of childlike concern, as he looks a bit disappointed that I’m “ditching” them, “I promise not to tug on your braids again.”

“Yeah, you better, but I’ll be a few minutes, alright?” I look at the growing crowd making its way to the beach, slightly grimacing, “‘Sides, you know how I feel about crowds. If anything, I’ll be up here, and I’ll be able to see you guys just fine.”

“Alright, just be careful. Come find us if anything weird happens.” I smile at Mike’s words with amusement as he looks down at me, face completely serious, “I mean it, Alex.”

“Yeah, remember, we’re living in ‘The Murder Capital of the World’ now.” Sam smirks at me with raised brows as I playfully roll my eyes at him, turning to walk away.

“Alex.” I groan at the ‘mother hen’ tone Mike gives me, making me stop to turn and look at him, unamused.

“Okay mom.” I sass turning on my heel making my way to the stalls.

I take my time perusing the jewelry, clothes racks, and knickknacks spread across the different tables and stalls. One piece of jewelry catches my eye, when I hear someone let out a whimper, looking to my right I see a boy just got his septum pierced and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. Smirking, I walk over to the very open and not up to code piercing stall and watch as the boy admires his new bling. 

“That’s a rip-off, you know.” A voice says in my ear, making me move away from the sudden voice with annoyance heavy in my features. I’m met with a grinning boy with hazel eyes, with blonde curly hair, in the most… interesting jacket I’ve ever seen— in fact his whole choice of wardrobe is interesting, definitely bold, that’s for sure.

His grin never leaves, but he ends up putting his gloved thumb in his mouth as he waits for me to say something, giving him another once over I tone down my attitude giving him a nod.

“No, duh. If I wanted an infection, I wouldn’t pay $30 to some guy on the boardwalk; not when I can do that at home for free.” Looking back at the piercing stand, I shake my head in disappointment as three girls get ready to get holes placed in their lobes, “Nah, if I want to get more piercings Imma just go to a tattoo shop.” I let out a light huff, flicking my braids over my shoulder, flashing my various piercings. The boy's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as I send him a smirk. Turning on my heel, I continue to walk around the stalls, smiling at the sound of heavy footfalls chasing after me. Raising a brow, I send a quick glance over my shoulder as the boy crowds into my space once he catches up with me, “Personal space is a new concept for you, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer, just smiles widely, moving closer into my space before backing off. His eyes never leave mine during that entire interaction and under normal circumstances I would’ve freaked out, but something about this seems… far from normal, that and I was feeling adventurous. Not really the best feeling to have in the ‘Murder Capital of the World’, but I’m sure it’s fine.

“You’re new here.” It wasn't a question.

“Uh, yeah. How’d you know?” I squint at him, leaning away from him, making him chuckle at the look on my face. By now, the concert is in full swing and the fourth song plays over the speakers, making it more difficult to even hear yourself think, let alone someone else talking.

“Haven’t seen you before.” He shrugs his shoulders, moving closer to me again, causing me to continue to try to have some kind of distance between us. Just because I can’t hear him, doesn’t mean he needs to walk closer, he could just raise his voice.

“And you’ve seen everyone in Santa Carla?” I raise a brow at him as he slowly pushes us to the darker and more secluded parts of the boardwalk. Spinning on my heel, I turn back around, walking to where we just came from.

“Where ya goin’?” He catches up to me quickly, walking behind me. I stop abruptly, making him collide into my back; I have no idea how fast he was walking to catch up to me, but I wasn’t expecting to lose my balance and fall forward from it. Thankfully, he has quick reflexes and grabs my waist, halting my fall, “You alright, girl?”

“Peachy, boy.” My face is stern as I glare up at him, but that damn grin is still on his face– like he just hit the jackpot. Like this I can appreciate his features more; his smooth skin, the chisel of his jaw, the hook of his Romanesque nose, his big doe eyes— that at first glance seem innocent, but upon further inspection show mischief and danger. As the music continues to blast over the speaker, he begins swaying us to the music. He may not be the tallest or strongest looking guy ever, but that doesn’t mean anything; I can feel the strength behind his hands that seem to hold me closer to him, making me feel… the rest of him. 

“Maybe I’m imagining that.” Turning to look up at him, my eyes jump from his lips to his eyes; before I look up at him through my dark lashes, “Or maybe not…” 

Placing my hands over his gloved ones, I intertwine them, pulling them off of me and walk out of his grasp. He rolls his eyes at me as I flash him a wide smile, walking back to the stalls.

“I need to buy something.” I jog over to the table searching for the piece I saw earlier and let out a triumphant laugh as I pick up a small gold skull charm, “Sweet.”

The boy comes behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder, blinking at the charm with a furrowed brow. I hate to admit it, but he’s getting cuter by the minute, and it’s getting hard to think clearly with all this touchy-feely couple shit.

“You like skulls?” He takes the charm out of my hands, looking at it closely before looking back at me.

“Yeah, I like a lot of things, skulls is just one of them. You don’t know me, so I don’t know why you’re surprised.” Chuckling, I take the charm back, giving it to the vendor who bags it, but not before she shifts her gaze between the boy and me. I give her a questioning glance, but she busies herself with the other things on her table, ignoring us completely, “Weird.”

“So, what’s something a girl like you likes?” His voice pulls back my attention as he reaches a hand out to play with one of my braids. Quickly, I pull my head back and holding his wrist in a tight grip.

“A girl like me?” All friendliness is gone from my demeanor as I give him a warning glare, “Don’t touch my hair… unless you want me touching yours.”

All he does is smirk, and hold his hands up in mock surrender, but something in his eyes tells me he understands not wanting to have a random person touch your hair. 

Continuing my perusing, I’m accompanied by my ‘golden noodle haired shadow’ who seems to have a reputation of sorts here, as people move out of our way, with the most apprehensive faces I’ve ever seen.

“So are you gonna keep following me or don’t have someone else you can bother?” I muse, sending the boy a glance over my shoulder. He keeps his eyes on me like a man on a mission, grinning as he does.

“Why? You tryin’ to get rid of me?” His smile grows at the playful eye roll I give him. Shrugging my shoulders, and slowing down my pace, so we walk next to each other, I link my arm with his. I don’t know why I did it, I just did, and he seemed to tense for a moment before relaxing as we walked at a leisurely pace.

“You know, I could get rid of you, but I figure why not get a tour from someone who seems to know this place like the back of their hand? Plus, I get the feeling you know where all the cool jewelry is.” Giving him a grin of my own, he nods his head in excitement, tugging me to all the small shops lining the boardwalk. 

By the time we reach the last shop, I have four bags holding my precious treasures; the great majority of the pieces I bought are going to be made into necklaces, bracelets, and/or earrings– it’s a bonding activity my mom started with me when I was 8. It helps relax us and take our minds off of the stress in our lives, unfortunately during my parent's divorce, we haven’t been able to make or mend any pieces for the past 2 years. 

My smile is bright and cheery as we make our way to the railing on the boardwalk, overlooking the sea of people headbanging and dancing to a very oiled up man playing a saxophone. I can’t stop the face that I make, taking in the man’s appearance, with wide eyes I glance at the boy who just laughs leaning against the railing.

“I mean, whatever floats his boat, I guess… He’s got the body for it.” Tilting my head, I trail my eyes over the performer's body, admiring the chains adorning his neck and waist, “Just wasn’t expecting the hip thrusts though.”

We share a laugh as I look over the sea of people, to find my brothers. Sucking my teeth, I turn around, scanning the ever-growing crowd. Furrowing my brows, I take a few steps forward until I’m stopped by a hand on my wrist, looking behind me, I raise my brow at the boy.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were tryin’ to ditch me.” 

“Who me?” I feign ignorance as the boy squints his eyes at me, chuckling I shake my head at him, “Dude, I can’t ‘ditch’ you when I don’t even know you.”

“Marko.” Not breaking eye contact, he gently tugs me back to him.

“Really?” I scrunch my face, looking him up and down, “You don’t strike me as a ‘Marko’.”

“What do I strike you as?” There are goosebumps on my arms, as he rubs the top of my knuckles with his thumb. He begins leaning his head down towards me, but I pull back, looking up at him with a coy smile.

“I don’t know, but it sure wasn’t Marko.” The sounds of the boardwalk seem to melt into white noise as we simply stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. My eyes track his, and almost like magic I’m being pulled into those hazel pools– Oh man, if my brothers could see me now.

“Oh shit, I need to find them!” Blinking quickly, I take my hand back shaking off the haze I was in, “Well that was weird…” 

Marko pouts slightly, but doesn’t make any more moves, much to my disappointment. Sighing, I rock on my heels awkwardly looking around, “Alright, well it’s been real, and it’s been fun, but I gotta go. So… bye…?”

Marko gives me a smirk as he watches me shift around, “So you are tryin’ to ditch me.”

“Well, I’m not, not trying to ditch you.” Scratching the back of my neck, “But I need to find my brothers, which means we then need to find our mom, so unless you want to meet her this is where we part ways, I’m afraid.” My tone is light and teasing as we start walking through the crowd aimlessly.

“If I meet yours, you met mine.” Marko lightly bumps his shoulder with mine, causing me to laugh at the action, “You’ll have more fun too.”

“Oh?” My questioning glance is meet with a proud smile.

“Mhmm, guaranteed F-U-N.” He drapes his arm over my shoulders, laying his chin on top of my head.

“Oooo he can spell!” Placing my hand on my chest in faux shock, I’m given a scoff and light shove.

“Shut up.” Marko rolls his eyes, but is smiling as he looks at everyone but me; it’s like he’s shy, but he doesn’t seem like the type.

“Well, maybe I can meet them next time.” Shrugging my shoulders, I stop walking, looking around the crowd for my brothers; then I spot Sam’s weird coat thing, “He wears the weirdest shit.”

My eyes shift to Marko, as I pause for a moment, “And Sammy isn’t the only one.”

“What’s so funny?” He squints his eyes at me, making me shrug and look away from him. He didn’t seem to like that, and grasps my shoulder, turning me to face him. Putting my hands up, I give him my best poker face.

“Nothin’.” I try to hide my growing smile from Marko by looking back into the crowd again. Sam looks so lost as he spins in circles, possibly looking for Mike. “Look, I gotta go, but maybe I’ll see you around?”

“I’m here every night.” He’s thrown out his line.

“That so?” And I’m the dumb fish swimming to the bait.

“It is. Maybe next time I can show you the sights.” Oh yeah, I’m a dumb fish.

“I thought I already saw the sights?” I trail my eyes over his form slowly and deliberately, when I lock eyes with him, his expression lets me know that he understood my hidden meaning.

I may have taken the bait, but he wasn’t expecting a catch this weighty.

Taking a few choice steps towards me, he stops when his chest touches mine. Tilting his head, he looks down at me with hooded eyes, “You liked ‘the sights’?”

“Oh sure! Why do you think I’ll be back tomorrow night?” I raise my chin up to him, giving him a sly smile, “How many brothers did you say you have?”

“Three.”

“Awesome, hopefully I can see three more sights.” I pause for a moment looking over Marko’s face with concern, “Just out of curiosity, how old are you– like, you are over 18… right?”

“You have no idea.” His words were mumbled, but I heard them clearly as I give him an unsure smile.

“What was that?” 

He smirks at my questioning gaze, “I’m 19.”

“Oh sweet!... And your brother’s…?” 

He sighs, raising his eyes to glance at the sky, like this was the dumbest line of questioning he’s ever been through, “I’m the youngest, so everyone else is as old as shit.”

“HA! My brothers feel the same about me. Speaking of my brothers, I really need to go find them. Til we meet again, Young Marko.” Grabbing his hand, I kiss the top of his gloved knuckles, giggling at his wide-eyed face, “See ya on the flip side, dude.”

With a skip in my step, I creep up behind Sammy, slamming my hands on his shoulders– scaring the poor kid– smiling gleefully at him.

“Alex!” He places his hand on his chest as he takes a deep breath, “Oh geez, you scared me. I thought you were someone else.”

“My bad, bro. You headed somewhere?” I give him some space before we walk side by side.

“Yeah, I found a comic shop! I figured you’d want to come.”

“Hell yeah, dude. Let’s go– wait, where’s Mikey?” I look around the crowd, trying to find Michael’s jacket.

“He’s following some girl.” Sam rolls his eyes, making his way through the crowd, while I’m stuck in place gapping like a fish. Once his words sink in completely, I run after him.

“What do you mean, ‘he’s following some girl’? Why is he doing that? Did he forget where we moved to?! Why am I related to an idiot?” Sam laughs at my words, giving me a look I’ve seen too many times to count, “I know I’m adopted, damn, you don’t have to keep reminding me.”

Wrapping his arms around, Sam rests his chin on my shoulder, “Adopted or not, you’re still my older, sassy, cool, and annoying sister, and I love you no matter what.”

“Alright, alright, let me go. People are starting to stare.” I glance around the crowd, feeling out of place and self-conscious about Sammy’s display of affection. Just because we were raised together, doesn’t mean everyone else knows that– it wouldn’t be much of a problem if we were the same race, but one look at us, and you know we aren’t ‘brother and sister’. Sure, Sammy and Mike don’t look alike, but both take after their parents… and I take after mine. Growing up was very interesting, but I wouldn’t trade my doofus brothers for the world. 

Let’s just say, I add more… color to their lives.

“Let them. I’m hugging my sister, a few stares from random assholes isn’t going to change that.”

And they add color to mine.

I snap my head, staring at him with wide eyes, “Ooooo you cursed. I’m telling mom.”

“What?! You curse all the time!” He lets me go, glowering at me.

“Yeah, but I’m an adult, I can.” Flicking his forehead, I hand him two of my bags, “I won’t tell mom if you carry these two bags.”

“... You’re a slave driver, you know that, Alex?” He grumbles, but takes the bags.

“Consider it penance for my people.” I lightly shove him forward, as he stares at me with his mouth hanging open, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

“What’re in these bags, bricks?” Sam opens one of the bags, peering inside with furrowed brows, “Why is it so heavy? It’s just jewelry?”

“It’s not that heavy, Sam. I only got a few pieces.” Rolling my eyes at his whining, I start feeling the weight of my own two bags… and they are kinda weighty. Stopping at a picnic table, we place the bags down looking at the contents, “Okay, so I bought a bunch of little skulls, feather charms, an assortment of beads, a few chains, and patches– wait, patches?”

I pull out three stacks of random patches ranging from hellfire and skulls, to crude innuendos.

“You also got stickers– ooooo, you better not let mom see these.” Sam holds up a sticker with a topless lady sticking her forked tongue out. Snatching the sticker from him, I quickly put it back in the bag. He looks at me, unimpressed, and the way he crosses his arms, makes him look just like mom.

“I didn’t buy these!” Gazing in another bag, I see that it has rings, bracelets, and a few earrings. Saying that I’m feeling confused is an understatement, “I don’t understand, I don’t remember…”  I feel Sam’s eyes on me as I try hard to remember if I did actually pay for any of this shit. Then it hits me, “That little bastard.”

“Who?” 

“Nothin’, c’mon, I’ll deal with this later.” Gathering my bags, we continue our trek to the comic shop. Once we reach, we smile at each other like the nerdy little idiots we are and go our separate ways– Sam goes right to Superman, and I go to X-Men. 

All my attention is placed on finding a new comic to add to my collection, but as I pick up comic after comic, my enthusiasm is slowly fading at the inconsistency of the comic placements. It’s like they were haphazardly placed, or just put down next to the comic that “looked” like it belonged to. Scoffing, I toss the comics back, annoyed that whoever did this, literally had one job, and they couldn’t do it. Turning around, I scan for Sam, wondering if he’s having the same problem I am; with wide eyes, I see that he has a whole different problem.

Two boys, around his height and age, are basically accosting him, as he probably tells them, he isn’t looking for trouble. Gritting my teeth, I make my way over to them, ready to fight these two little bastards if I have to– and seeing this is the ‘Murder Capital of the World’, I just might have to.

“What’s going on here?” Crossing my arms, I stare down the two boys, who jump at the sound of my voice. They move closer to each other, glancing between each other and my brother. The one with brown hair squints his eyes at me, sizing me up, before speaking– in the MOST ridiculous voice– taking a step towards me.

“This is a private conversation, it doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, I think it does.” I hate when I speak like this because I sound like such a mother, but sometimes that’s the only way to make children listen to you– and listen, they did. Both boys blink in mild fear and confusion as Sam sheepishly shrugs his shoulders. And that’s when I catch a glimpse of the comic in Sammy’s hands, “Oh, hell no. No way, no how.”

Holding my hand out, he places the comic down, giving the boys an ‘I told you so’ face, “I told them I don’t do horror comics.”

“And they still pushed this on you?” I’m annoyed– you can hear it clear as day– jutting out my hip, I place the comic down on top of the Superman comics, “Let’s learn a life lesson, shall we boys? When someone says ‘no’, don’t go and pester them, or push them into doing something they don’t want, or like. If you’re not careful, you might wind up in the pokey. Thankfully you two are young and can learn from this mistake,” Stepping forward, I jab them both in the chest, giving them a warning, “Don’t make it again.”

A few seconds of silence go by as the two glance at each other, nodding back at me. Smiling oh so sweetly, I beckon for Sam to follow outside. 

“Okay, but I still haven’t gotten a comic I want yet.”

“Ugh, Sam.” Turning around, I tilt my head at him, as he pouts at me. Rolling my eyes, I hang my head, defeated, “Alright, get your effing comic, but be quick about it.”

As I turned away from the trio, I couldn’t help but hear the sounds of harsh whispering that sounded along the lines of ‘who is that’, ‘are you in danger’, and ‘she’s scary’. All of which brought a smile to my face, because let’s face it, when an Afro-Latin American woman tells you off, it’s scary as hell. 

They are so lucky I can’t speak Spanish, I would’ve cursed them up and down until the coqui’s came home. Glancing at them from over my shoulder, I see that Sam does seem to be searching for a comic, but those boys are still trying to push the horror comic on him again. Growling, I get ready to tell them off, when I see movement out of the corner of my eye; turning to see what it is, it’s a group of people guffawing loudly, almost like they were intoxicated. Furrowing my brows, I watch as they laugh and sneer at… me, I guess… but they’re also eyeing the comics in the cart next to them.

“Uhm, do you know who works here?” I keep my eyes on the group of people, while speaking to the boys over my shoulder.

“Us. Why?” A part of me wants to keep quiet about what’s about to happen due to the amount of suspicion coming from ‘Baby Rambo’, but swallowing my pride, I point at the group.

“I think they’re–” I jump at the yell that came from the seemingly quiet, dark haired boy.

“--HEY, WAIT!” He takes off at the group with Baby Rambo in tow, “COME BACK, YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR THOSE!”

Puffing out my cheeks, I turn to Sam, who’s just as lost as I am. Not knowing what else to do, I point to the exit, “Wanna go home now?”

“Yes, please.” His voice is heavy as he shakes his head at what we just witnessed. I ruffle his hair, making him swat at me again, laughing I put my hands up in surrender, successfully lightning the mood.

“So where do you think Michael is?” My mind is going through a bunch of different scenarios as to what could’ve happened to Michael following a random girl on the boardwalk.

“Not sure, but if we see a girl running for her life, I think that means we found him.” We share a laugh, wiping our imaginary tears. Catching my breath, I pause for a moment, seeing a blur of blonde move through the crowd. Trying to see through the crowd, I lose sight of the blonde hair, frowning, I look back at Sam, but he’s not next to me anymore. Fear lurches in my chest as I look around for my baby brother, but instant relief washes over me when I spot him AND Michael. Breathing out a sigh, I walk over to them, hands in my pockets, “There you are, c’mon let’s go.”

Walking ahead of them, I hear Sammy chuckle, “She stiffed ya man, let’s go.”

At this I freeze, look over my shoulder with a face Sam describes as “The Joker”; basically, my eyes get wide with glee, and my smile is board line insane– according to Sam, but this is the same kid who thinks monsters live in his closet still. I’ll admit, it isn’t the most innocent of smiles, and it can be a bit creepy, but I just hit the ‘blackmail jackpot’! Who wouldn’t have an insane smile on their face, when they find the reason their brother’s being a total creep; I mean, just wait until mom hears about this!

Not moving from my spot, I reign in “The Joker” smile, glancing between Michael and the girl. She’s cute, with big brown doe eyes, even bigger brown curly hair, and she has a sweet kind of smile on her face, almost flirtatious, as she looks Mike up and down; but her smile fades away when she sees me. Raising a brow at her, I give her a smile of my own, sizing her up– unfortunately, the rest of her is blocked by a dude in all black. 

Moving my attention to him, I can’t stop but smirk at the white hair he has; he gives me a once over, seemingly annoyed by my presence. At that moment Sam moves to my side, whispering something to me in my ear, but I wasn’t paying attention– he was giggling too much, and White Hair was staring at me hard. I’m not one to back down from a challenge, so I stared back just as fiercely. He shifts his gaze between Sam and I, and I guess something clicked, because the hardness in his eyes softens, and he smiles at me.

My own gaze softens as well, but instead of smiling, I squint at him, because that was a random 180, and nothing good comes from those. The sound of revving engines gets my attention, and I realize that there are more people with this duo. A brooding brunette with a child sitting on the back of his bike, who seems to be yelling at the person next to them, but that person isn’t paying any attention to the small boy; the reason being because they’re staring at me.

I’m greeted with an all too familiar grin, and mischievous hazel eyes; my eyes widen slightly at the sight of Marko, and that’s when I look over the group again. Locking eyes with Marko again, his smile confirms my unspoken thought.

These are his brothers.

He gives me a small nod, switching his gaze between Sam and Michael, I give him a lopsided grin, and a mild head bob, making him chuckle as he turns his gaze to the other blonde next to him– and this guy is… Woooo, I don’t think words can describe him. He has wild blonde hair, a black jacket, black mesh top, THE dirtiest white pants known to man, and seems to be headbanging like there’s no tomorrow.

… Huh, I described him… Sweet.

Shaking my head, I look back at Michael who is still staring at this girl like a love struck fool, and I don’t stop my eye roll. I’m never going to let him live this down– EVER! Looking down at my sneakers, I walk over to stand next to Michael, place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it harshly. His tenses up, wincing as he finally acknowledges my existence… Well, the look on his face says that he had no idea I was there in the first place, so I give him the same look, only mockingly.

“What? Did you forget about me?” I send little glances to the girl, as she watches us with curious eyes, “That cuts deep, dude.” Michael gives the girl a sheepish, and embarrassed look as he brushes my hand off of him, and being the older sister I am, I’m going to take it a step further, “Wow, you don’t want me to touch you? That’s a first. Guess that means I won’t be sleeping in your room tonight then, huh?”

He snaps his head at me, cheeks turning red, with pleading eyes– to be fair, the last time Michael and I slept in the same room was when I was 10, and we shared a bunk bed, but these guys don’t need to know that.

So with a triumphant smirk, we watch as White Hair, snickers at Michael, and speeds off of the boardwalk with his gang in tow. Poor Michael, stands there, watching with a crestfallen face as the bikes disappear from our sights. Leaning on my hip, I sigh, watching with him for a few seconds before looking up at him.

“You know they aren’t coming back, just because you look so pathetic.”

“Shut up, Alex.” He sneers at me, bringing a smile to my face as Sam and I watch him stomp off. I nudge Sam, wiggling my eyebrows at him, “Watch this.” Sam looks at me expectantly, as I clear my throat, smiling, “~They’ll be back tomorrow night~!”

Mike stops in his tracks, looking at me over his shoulder with untrusting eyes. Sam laughs that the sudden interest Mike has now, and I smile as Mike’s face morphs into hope. He rushes back over to us, tightly holding my arms, he begins to shake me back and forth.

“Wait, they are?! How do you know?! Do you know her?! Did you talk to her?! What’s she–”

“Whoa, WHOA! Slow down, Lover Boy! Let’s just say I have a reliable resource.” I shake Mike off of me, smoothing out my jacket.

“Who?”

“Who?” 

I frown at my brothers as they ask the same question almost in sync, “‘Who?’ What’re you guys? Owls?” Shaking my head, I walk ahead of them towards the exit, “Never mind who; c’mon let’s go find mom.”

Finding mom proved to be easier than we originally thought, because she was already waiting for us in the parking lot, as we neared the car, Sam started to tease Mike about how he struck out with Big Brown Doe Eyes. Mike retaliated by flicking Sam’s forehead and getting into the front seat before him. Sam whines about it, until I whisper in his ear.

“Let him have this, we have blackmail on our side.”

Sam’s face looks like it’s about to split in two from his smile, we side into the backseat, and mom looks at us with her sweet smile that crinkles around her eyes when something wonderful happens.

“I see smiles, did you all have fun?” Her voice is way more chipper than it’s been since we arrived in Santa Carla.

“Yeah, something like that.” I glance at the back of Mike’s head, as he glares at us from the rearview mirror. Looking back at mom, I incline my head to her, “But it seems like you’ve had a pretty good night too.”

“Oh! You’ll never believe it!” She gushes as she looks at each of us, we all have a pretty good idea as to why she’s happy, but we wait for her to share. Smiling even more brightly, she confirms our thoughts, “I got a job!”

“Yay! Congrats mom, that’s great.” Leaning over, I give her a hug and kiss her cheek.

“Does this mean we can get a TV now?” We all ignore Sam’s question, as we give mom her spotlight.

“Oh, thank you, sweetie. I wasn’t sure if I’d find a job, but I did.” Her smile is still going strong, and has me wondering if something more happened. 

“She’s just really happy about getting a job.” 

Pulling out of the parking lot, she turns the spotlight on us at the sound of Sam complaining about my ‘heavy bags crushing his feet’.

“So, Alex, did you have a good time?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Giving her a light shrug, I hold up my four bags, “I got some jewelry for us to work on, but since you’ll be working I don’t know how much we’ll be able to do…”

“We’ll find time. I promise.” I match her smile as she gazes at me through the mirror; but there’s something bugging me– something about her smile that rubs me the wrong way. It’s so happy, and genuine– it’s one I haven’t seen in about 3 years– I don’t want to ask her if she ‘meet someone’ while job hunting, but the nosy part of me reaaaalllly wants to know.

“... No. Now’s not the time.” I glance at Sam and Mike, knowing that if mom really did find that ‘someone’ they aren’t going to be thrilled– hell! I’m not thrilled… but I should be, it’s just hard. Sighing, I lean against the door frame, watching the city lights blur by; the sound of bike engines has me looking around out of Sam’s window and my own I hunt for the bikers, and I’m not alone, Mike is doing the same thing, which gains mom’s attention.

“What? What’s going on?” She begins to panic a bit, as she looks at the dimly lit road, and then at us.

Mike and I share a look of mile disappointment, but reassuringly smile at her nonetheless, “Nothin’ mom, just need to watch out for bikers is all.”

“Oh, I thought I was about to hit something.” She breathes out a sigh, rolling her eyes the way only a mother can, as we continue home.

My mind is still occupied with mom’s smile and this new job, and sucking on my teeth I lean forward glancing up at her.

“She’s still smiling.” Biting the inside of my cheek, I clear my throat, “So, mom.”

“Hm?”

“This new job– what is it?” I try to keep my voice as light and as innocent as I can, but it’s kinda hard when her smile widens again. 

“It’s at a video store–”

“So we are getting a TV?!” Sam leans against me, pushing my face into the back of mom’s seat. Growling, I elbow him in the gut, making him sit back wincing, “OW!”

“Back off!” My voice is low, as I glare it him, making him gulp and scoot away from me.

“-- Well, no, not quite. Televisions cost money, and I only just got my job. But if you want one so badly, you can always save up and buy one.” Mom’s genuine smile shifts into a playful one as she watches Sam’s hopefully continuance morph into one of confusion.

“But… I don’t have any money. I used up the rest of my allowance to get toys for Nanook, and we won’t get any ‘til you give it to us.” Sam is out of sorts as he goes huffs out a sigh, crosses his arms, glaring at the floor. Mom just laughs as she pulls off the highway towards the smaller streets.

“So it’s a video store, sounds fun.” I give mom a smile, bringing her back on topic, and that ‘oh so happy’ smile is back, “Which store?”

“VideoMax.” She’s beaming.

“Uh-huh– met anyone?” Calm down, Alex, again, she could just be excited about the job. 

Letting out a chuckle, I shake my head, “I like how I asked ‘which store’ like I know where anything is here. God, I’m an idiot.”

“At least you finally admitted it.” Mike chimes from the front, smiling mockingly at me, to which I respond with a smack to the back of his head, “Wha– HEY!”

“That’s for thinking you were being cute.” I glare at him as mom chides the both of us, “He started it.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.”

“Guys, please! We’re almost home– look, we all just had a nice night out, let’s not ruin it with petty arguments.” Mom looks at the both of us pleadingly, waiting for our answers; rolling our eyes, we give each other stony smiles ‘apologizing’ and looking out our respective windows.

Michael and I haven’t always been like this, but I can’t figure out why he’s turned into a dick around me, but if he doesn’t change his tune, he’s going to get punched in the face. For now, I’m just going to chalk it up to the move making things different and stressful. We still love each other– we both know that, and mom knows it. Unfortunately, she also knows we don’t mean our apologies, but she’s not going to push us since we’ve appeased her. Sighing, she continues to talk about ‘VideoMax’ and her boss, but I tune her out, glancing up at the moon, the cloudy night, and the few stars that can be seen, and the body falling out of the sky–...

.

.

.

Looking back over the ocean, I frantically look for any signs of a body hitting the water, but I never see any. Blinking in confusion, I try to focus on the water again, but I still don’t see anything– it’s too dark, and we’re too far away.

“I need to get a grip, how would a body fall OUT of the sky? There aren’t any planes.” For good measure I look up searching for airplane lights, and there aren’t any. Gulping, I shake the forbidding feeling that moves up my back, settling on my neck. Rubbing my neck, I can’t help but wince at the feeling of hands squeezing my shoulders; shivering, I zip up my jacket, looking up at the sky again, “It was all in your head. Relax, Alex.”

“Yeah, relax.” 

It almost feels like someone whispered deep in my ear– which would really be in my head, but it wasn’t my voice, it was foreign, and it sounded like a guy. I glance at Sam, but he’s in his own little corner of the car, probably still thinking about his TV problem, while Mike is leaning his back on the seat, eyes closed.

“Alright, so… it wasn’t either of them.” Looking in the trunk with fear and timid movements, I’m greeted with an empty, dark trunk, “... I’m losing my mind. Awesome.”

I wasn’t able to dwell on my questionable grip on sanity, because mom has already pulled into her parking spot, turns off the car, turning to look at us with that smile again. Not sure if I should feel grateful or not for the car coming to a stop, as we take that as the queue to get out and head inside; I’m the last one out, since no one wanted to help me with my damn bags.

Huffing, I pick up a few pieces that slipped out of one of the bags under the driver's seat. Reaching under mom’s seat, I pull out the last skull charm, placing it in my jacket pocket as I flip my braids out of my face, “I’m gonna beat up that little imp, next time I see him.”

I’m not so annoyed with the fact that he snagged a few things, as I am that he put them IN MY BAGS, and didn’t say anything. If he got caught, we both would’ve gotten in trouble, and I’m not trying to make my mark in Santa Carla a bad one… at least not yet.

Slamming the door closed, I start my little trek to the house, taking a moment to look up at the sky again. Smiling, I close my eyes as a breeze blows by…

“See~...Ya~.... Alex~.” 

Opening my eyes quickly, I look around the fairly well lit walkway, but with a frantic expression that would have my brothers in stitches. My heart is pounding in my ears, as I press my lips in a thin, tight line, slightly sucking them in, trying to hold back any potential scream from coming out prematurely. 

Not gonna lie, the voice almost sounded like Marko, but there’s no way.

Is there?

Not seeing, or hearing anything, I open my mouth ready to ask the age-old question that gets people killed in every horror movie…

“Nope, not today.” Booking it to the front door, I swing open the door, making Papa E look at me with a scrutinizing gaze. Closing the front door, and locking it, I give him a wide awkward smile as I make my way to my room.

“You alright there, kiddo?”

“Oh, yeah! Totally not hearing things in the wind or anything.” I giggle out nervously as Papa E stares at me for a few seconds with the same expression– it almost seems like he’s trying to figure me out, but then he just blinks, gives me a nod, and takes a swig from his root beer, making his way to his Red Room. I look at him confused, “Uh, okay… Good– good night?”

Shaking my head, I head to my room, tossing the bags on top of my suitcase, laying down with a heavy sigh. Taking out the skull charm, I stare into its black eyes, thinking back on the events of the night. Tonight was definitely one for the books, I did things I wouldn’t have normally done back in Phoenix. Maybe this move was exactly what we all needed, who knows what lies ahead? This is our fresh start, a new chapter in our lives where we don’t have to worry about so asshole making our lives miserable anymore. We have a chance at something great, something wonderful.

“Marko, huh?” Grinning widely, I toss the charm in my suitcase, and get ready for bed. 

While I brush my teeth, I pick up my book rereading what I skipped over– which wasn’t much, “Cha’ter 3, ‘Sh-ing, O Muse o’ Hermes, t’e Sh-on of Zeus,’ blah blah blah…” Spitting out the toothpaste, I rinse quickly, making my way back to my room, reading on the way, “‘... Cronion wooed the fair-haired damsel without the ken of the deathless gods or mortal men. Now when the purpose of mighty Zeus was fulfilling…’ Zeus really doesn’t know how to keep it in his tunic.” Making my way to my room downstairs, I slip under the covers, opening my book again, “‘... In that hour she gave birth to a son, subtle of wit and wile, a robber,’ this sounds vaguely familiar, ‘a reiver of cattle, a captain of thieves, a prowler of the night, a pilferer at gates, who was ere long to make known fine doings among the immortal gods.’” Closing my book, I stare at my comforter with a deep crease in my brow, “Is… Is the universe telling me Marko is Hermes?”

Shifting my eyes around my room, I seemingly wait for someone to just pop up and give me the answer, but of course that isn’t going to happen. Of course, Marko isn’t the god Hermes, even if he does seem to be an almost perfect replica of the god.

 “Even if he does have similarities to Hermes, he isn’t him at all.” Scoffing at myself, I place my book on my nightstand, turning off my lamp, “‘Sides, it’s not like he can fly.”

Laughing to myself, I close my eyes, falling into a deep and calming sleep.

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Taglist: @jezabella8 @thelostone91

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𓂸𓂺𓂸

𝗩𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘂𝘃𝗲𝗿, 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗖𝗼𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗶𝗮. 𝗔𝘂𝗴𝘂𝘀𝘁, 2016.

She was quite literally the definition of out of anyone's league, and most definitely his.

Weasel and Wade both knew this, but that didn't stop the creation of a betting pool of who'd be able to successfully obtain the number of the assassin in black, that sat at the third stool of the bar every Tuesday and Thursday night.

She went by 'Indigo' which was established from the Dead Pool. A constant mystery, she was—no known attendants had bet on her, and yet she held the highest payout at $400 (two times Wade's), and the only small information they'd gotten on her was her age, 27.

Everyone that took the stools beside her had been set up for failure and embarrassment—each one either ending up behind their stools, on the floor, ass up and unconscious, or bruised in various places, and she seemed to prefer aiming for the face or nether regions.

It was an extremely dangerous game, and Wade didn't mind playing each time she stepped foot into Sister Margaret's.

シシシ

As soon as golden hour began, she'd entered. With each step, she seemed to hypnotize patrons from the swing in her hips causing glowing brown skin to peek out from the middle flap of her dress, and slender dark blue eyes set on the seat she'd sat in the previous weeks.

"I'm going over." the words escaped his mouth once peering at her chosen attire for the night. Her hair- long, black, pinned back, showcasing her defined features that had Wade hooked the first time he'd set eyes on her, as well as a long, nearly floor-length double side-split dress with each slit stopping right below her panty-line. Tuesday she'd been in a low-cut suit with shiny finger waves, so every few days Wade had become accustomed to looking forwards to her new choice in clothing.

Before he had the chance to fully take the seat beside her, she greeted him within her natural deep and sultry voice.

"Hello, Wade."

She hadn't moved her gaze from the shittily-made Manhattan in front of her, and could always sense when and which fool had taken occupancy in her general direction—she'd estimated Wade would appear at least five minutes after staring at what she had on and gathering the courage to approach her for the first time of the night, adhering to his habitual waltz of every few days.

"Good evening, Ms. Indigo—anybody ever tell ya' that you look amazing in black because WOW-" he cut himself off after meeting your side-eye. His tangents tended to get long and typically ended in a drawn-out and odd sexual tangent, so he was minutely glad he'd been cut short.

She showed absolutely zero desire to continue the conversation, and for some reason that only made Wade want try harder.

"I've come back again this week, madame, to ask if you would like to have dinner with me." She couldn't see his pained yet hopeful smile due to the black mask Wade used to conceal the new scar across his lips on the left—he wasn't insecure, but air through the large cut hurt like hell.

She turned and met his eyes while still pulling the ice through her cup with the thin black straw.

シシシ

Contrary to Wade's personal thoughts, Indigo wasn't as much of a mystery as many thought her to be. She rightfully wasn't fond of the strangers constantly cycling through the bar that all had the individual goal to get into the young woman's pants, and she simply used brute force as a way of gaining respect and outward expression of disinterest in each person's persistence.

She also didn't dislike Wade. He's the first to not ask what her cup size was, fall to grope her breast while standing and readjusting, or to describe their sexual desires with her in descriptive detail while pressing an unimpressive boner on the side of her body,, it was refreshing.

Every couple of days Wade will meet her at her spot within the bar, ask her a couple of questions on who she was and what she liked, which is a lot more than what she ever expected to get out of Sister Margaret's.

Of course, the first time Wade had asked her out, she'd said no, because she'd been dragged into too many dates with people that's only endgame was her beneath or above them, so she'd finally started declining. And typically she'd hate a man's persistence, but his wasn't conditional. He didn't demand nude photos, though he has gone into detail about his preferred poses for said images, he didn't want sex in return for friendly conversation— he never expected anything back.

Which is exactly what made her finally respond to his question with a,

"Yes, Wade. When do you want to pick me up?"