Taylor Stackhouse

Indiana: sweet the most sex ive had in a year

Indiana: i'll leave you there. gotta take the trash out somehow

Indiana: bitch im going to run u over

Indiana: i'm fucking driving i can see over the steering WHEEL

Taylor: Can you reach the pedal?

Indiana: well my dad has a god damned malibu but no matter what we're screwed

         Scarlett missed this part of town. It had been her first home, and part of her had probably thought she would end up staying there for the rest of her life— some people would say it was good she didn’t, and on most days, she was some people, but on this particular day, nostalgia was thick and she couldn’t help wonder what her life would’ve been like if her mom had never dragged her off to Los Angeles when she was a kid, and thrown her at the wolves. She passed a rundown building she remembered well, and thought maybe she would’ve been living in that one right now, or maybe the next one, or maybe she would have even made it to college and graduated, and could’ve lived in a small place in Westbrook? Maybe, maybe, maybe. When someone suddenly tugged at the jacket casually thrown over her shoulders, Scarlett turned around and saw a familiar face. She couldn’t remember from where she knew her, or even her name or what it started with, but she had definitely seen her before. “Well, we’re in North End, right? It’s hard to find someone right now who doesn’t think you would take the clothes off of someone’s back,” she said, humour dry, but the jest in her voice clear. “Yeah, this is the way to Podium, more or less. You’ve got another five, maybe seven minute walk this way.” She pointed down the street they were currently on before she turned back and scanned the blonde, lacking the subtlety of someone who wanted to do it without making the subject squirm. “I think you would do just fine as a stripper, and as for flexibility… that shit can be taught. Take it from an actual dancer,” she said and smirked, holding the blonde’s gaze for a couple of seconds before she gave in to curiosity. “Where do I know you from?”

              What a relief, her hand wasn’t smacked away, she didn’t get an eyeroll or some snarky kind of response. Not that she was expecting that all together but at this point and the amount of characters she’d met in this town she wasn’t all sure what to expect. Following the other blonde’s eye line towards the direction she wanted to go, she easily returned the pleasantry in a chuckle at the others jab at where it was they were in the moment. Almost instantly she could feel too, her own cheeks redden and an awkward thick swallow with an attempt to mask through a half smile, a hopefully seemingly lighthearted laugh escaped as she took in the other’s comment. 

            She’d heard that kind of stuff sure, of course just, where she usually had the liquid courage or some other kind of courage to take it in and retort, out on the streets, sober, and instantly she felt like the most pathetic person in the world. Can’t even take a compliment. And then the compliment was sidetracked into another form of  mortification that of course—of course, she ran into an actual stripper. “Oh, oh no, no, I mean, I didn’t mean it wasn’t like, hard. Really, really hard. You’re—” she stalled, looking up and down too now at the other with intention of returning the compliment and saving herself from saying anything even more stupid, “You’re—”  and almost as soon as she was able to say something the other was onto the next. Looking at her strange, she almost reached to check if she had something her teeth instead, eyes narrowed slightly. She didn’t know her did she? Not very likely but then wasn’t it random moments like this that sparked a recollection? Just the way the light hit and her eyes sparked greener than green that embarrassment she felt before was rolling full steam underneath. She remembered the eyes most, then the hand hold that felt like safety and an old friend and the rest was a blur... “Uh...vacay in San Diego recently?” She joked, connecting the blurry dots, god, all she hoped was that she didn’t say something totally insane. “Or, that creepy rose Valentine’s free-for-all?” 

Indiana: bitch i am a concerned citizen

Indiana: i dont have that problem

Indiana: what the fuck did my dad marry in to

He grinned at the pretty blonde. “Well, I’m glad I missed the puke. I didn’t miss the flashing, though. Kinda hard to miss.” he laughed. Noah’s set was a mix between original bluesy rock songs and covers from the Beatles and other similar older bands. “So, having a good night?”

    If he could see her blush through the dim lights of the venue alone she would’ve probably been another shade of red— hell, closer to maroon after his comment she was sure, thankful for the hide and let be hid these kinds of places tended to offer just then. “Yeah. There’s a buy one get one half off Marg thing going so, that’s kinda unheard of in a bar so I’d say yea, good so far. You?” 

He’d always thought the world was much smaller than everyone believed it to be, and sure, the expanse of earth could be measured in millions of kilometers, and if you were looking from space, the planet itself is too large for you to be able to look at its entirety in just one angle (thought it being spherical might also have something to do with it), but it was small enough to meet people, those you never imagined encountering again, from one corner of land to another, twice. Her explanation could be just a coincidence that brought them back together, or perhaps some invisible force that managed to tether them by the wrists since last seeing each other in a different state, but whatever it was, the circumstances led them here, and he wasn’t sure how to properly express the surprise, if it was ever present.

“Snow isn’t all that great,” he said, once he got over being blindsided by her turning out to be the girl from that beach in California, of all people. “But I guess if you’ve never seen snow before, right in front of your nose, maybe it’s cool.” He shrugged. The mention of her family had him curious if he might know them. It was a small town after all; it was more common to know people than to not know them. “Who’s your sister?” he asked, though he didn’t think he knew anyone else with the name of ‘Stackhouse’ as she mentioned hers.

       “I mean, it’s totally cool. Well, yeah—” she said with a shrug, she almost felt a little shot down for thinking snow might be anything but cool. But then she wasn’t used to this guy, never really was. All it came down to was a sort of protection and a from what she remembered a conversation never meant to resurface. “For you probably not, kinda not for me anymore, I mean, I’ve seen it. A lot of it, So has she just when we want to. Ya know?” That was rhetorical, “Indiana?” And that wasn’t, “Williams. You know her? Life longer, well, except for the last couple years. As in when you and I, yeah...” 

Ade wasn’t going to comment further, he really wasn’t — he’d had his fair share of odd moments, and this was certainly one of those moments. “Yeah, it sucks, bit I’ll definitely live, nothing to worry about…” he answered with a soft smile. At her further questions, he shook his head, chuckling now. “No, no playing it cool,” he added as tossed away the sopping wet napkins. “You already have coffee, so can I buy you some cake or something as a thank you?”

        Like a light bulb moment, Taylor raised from her spot attempting to dry the undryable. “Uh, sure. If you want to.” She didn’t really want any cake or anything but the idea instantly made her think of how much her sister might like the little addition to the basically bare fridge. “Saw they had a bunch of German Chocolate’s on the day old discount thingy...to much?”

He shrugged, not wanting to talk about himself or his past if she didn’t already know. He brought the cigarette back to his lips and took one last drag before flicking it on the ground. “My stereotype?” He paused for a moment, biting the inside of his lip as he tried to formulate it into words. “Rich boy who resents his mom and dad but still spends their money,” he said with a half smile, not particularly enjoying categorizing himself in that way. “What would your stereotype be?”

        She could relate, not the rich aspect or really the resentment, sure sometimes but all not so much but she felt a sort of empathy just then. Possibly too much Gossip Girl, who knows. “Uh, the basic bitch?” she laughed, it sounded so cheesy now she was thinking of it. “I wish I could say something like Blonde Barbie or whatever, but Barbie’s usually got something going on for her.”