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“Dammit, I knew I forgot to get something!” She let out a disgruntled damn before smiling once again. “Cold as fuck. But still fun. New York is, like, exciting as hell, you know? Like, even grabbing a bite feels like you’re in a movie. You’re going with me next time.”

“Damn, so no prison tats?” He joked, nudging her in response. He was always eager to see a shitty tattoo that wasn’t one of his own. “I did miss you, though. Even with just one person gone the town seems smaller. How was it?”

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“Die,” Wren scoffed, though her grin remained. “But, hell yeah, I’m the new Piper Chapstick-- or whatever her name is. And you’re totally Big Boob.”

“who’re you again?” ria chuckled. “thought i saw you on orange is the new black, but i guess not.”

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“That’s true. Like father like daughter, amirite?” she gave him a toothy smile, shrugging a shoulder. “You gonna let me cut that hair now?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you were actually in prison. Kidding. Kind of,” He said without reacting to the hip bump (it was just Wren being Wren). “What were you and your ‘main hoe’ up to?” He said somewhat awkwardly.

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Wren quirked an eyebrow, lips quivering with the beginnings of amusement. However, she decided to play along, even if there was no way in hell she’d be the one all tied up. “Hell, yeah, babe-- you’ll look so good handcuffed to the bed. Hey, maybe we could get your aunt to join in on the fun!”

So that happened. Tristan didn’t know what was making him more anxious: the possibility of dealing with Aunt Patty’s weirdly homophobic questions all day, or the fact that Wren was shamelessly flirting with him  – correction, pretending to shamelessly flirt with him, and well, he had absolutely no game. “Oh, yeah. I’ll show you alright. We’ll do all the bad stuff they do on fifty shades of grey, but like, definitely badder. With all the leather and… handcuffs, definitely handcuffs too.” Tristan mumbled, his face and ears turning red as pepper.

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“Fuck yeah, it was!” Wren smiled ear to ear; while she loved Amy to death, Leah was her homegirl. “The drive sucked ass, though. I missed you!” She gave Leah a big ol’ smooch on the cheek, leaving a shiny lip-gloss mark in its wake. “What’d you do without me? Other than cry, duh.”

“Didn’t even notice you were gone,” Leah retorted, a failed attempt at sarcasm. Her arm snaked around Wren, “Of course I did, muffin. How was your trip? Tell me it was exciting.”

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“Hey, bitch, I’m fresh outta prison!” Wren bumped the person next to her with her hip, grinning up at them. “Kidding, I was visiting my main hoe Amy in New York. Miss me?”

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“Yeah, if you shut the fuck up,” Wren snorted, eyebrows raising. She eyed the infamous Aunt Patricia, before directing her line of vision back to Tristan. “Damn boy, you’re lookin’ fine to-day,” she spoke, saying the first things she could think of. Surely his freak aunt wouldn’t come in and break them up if they were flirting, fake or not. “You gonna show me what that ass can do?” She ran her fingers over the lapels of his shirt, sending him a smile.

“Oh shit, please don’t let her see me. That chubby lady right there, do you see? That’s my lovely aunt Patricia. And when I say lovely, I actually want to say that she’s the embodiment of satan and reincarnation of the devil. Can you just… talk to me for a second? She won’t come say hello if she sees us talking. Or maybe she will. Shit.”

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“Fuck no,” Wren said easily. “Finders, keepers, right? I’d do the same thing.”

“Would it make me a bad person if I found twenty bucks on the ground and took it without asking anyone around if it was theirs?—I mean I did it anyway, but I just wanna know where I stand.”

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It was a fairly calm day; traffic was nonexistent and Wren was enjoying the ability to drive recklessly (without consequences). Just as she looked away from her mirror, lip gloss still pressed against her mouth, she spotted a familiar blonde head. “Sup, lesbo?” she called through the open car window as she came to a screeching halt. Thankfully, no one was behind her.

“Fuck!” Leah groaned and kicked the remains of what was once her beloved skateboard. It was bound to happen sometime, she wasn’t exactly the best ‘boarder around. That thought didn’t take the sting out of seeing some beat up old Buick tear it in half when it slipped from beneath her feet. It seemed like slow motion. Taking a seat on the curb with a set of wheels in one hand and the other holding her head, she seemingly forgot about all passers-by. Leah openly grumbled to herself about how she wouldn’t have time to walk the rest of the way to get a coffee before her exam, which was  o b v i o u s l y  such a tragedy. 

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Wren grinned in delight and moved to take a sip of her drink, dusty pink lips wrapping around her straw and dark eyes catching Athena’s through thick lashes. A guttural hum of appreciation escaped from the back of her throat. “I honestly have no idea,” she replied after a moment, shrugging. “I guess I’m just that amazing.” She paused, taking in the comfortable silence as she swirls the straw around in her drink. “What time do you get off?”

Athena let out another laugh, Wren really could bring up her mood. She turned back as Wren continued talking, full glass of Coke in her hand. “That’s quite an achievement.” Athena remarked, grinning. “One second,” she said, going into the kitchen to put the ice cream in the drink. Coming back out, she set it in front of Wren and leaned her forearms on the counter. “How’d you manage to do it? Without me sending encouraging snapchats, of course.” she teased.

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Wren actually took a moment to consider her question, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. “You should totally find it a new home. It’s probably cuter alive.” She cracked a small but sincere grin, and stepped to the side. “Wanna make posters or some shit? You don’t seem the type to wanna walk everywhere. Obviously.” Wren didn’t really have a filter, and that was becoming more and more apparent.

Maisie glanced up at the girl in front of her. Her immediate reaction was to be intimidated - the girl, although dressed messily, looked like one of the girls she remembered back in high school who would cut your throat if you looked at them in the wrong way. She took in a breath, hoping that whoever this was wouldn’t be pissed off about her bothering her. “…Oh,” Maisie said slowly. Psychopath kid? She couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not. “Thanks. You think I should return it to that Norman Bates wannabe,” She pointed to the house next door, “Or find it a new home?”

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“Next time I’m gonna wear a business suit and you’re gonna talk in a southern accent. ‘Comin’ right up, sweetheart.’” She grinned at her own words, before shifting in her seat and replying to the taller brunette. “Pretty fuckin’ great, actually. Haven’t gotten into a single fight with a customer for a whole week. Proud of me?”

Athena rolled her eyes, still smiling at the teasing. “Coming right up,” she turned to the soda fountain, pulling a cup from the side and beginning to fill it up with the Coke. “How’s everything going, Wren?”

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“Yeah, me neither,” Wren agreed without any further elaboration. “Hey, we should totally get to dying my hair sometime soon. I wanna go a little bit darker than your hair-- like a honey blonde.”

“Holy shit,” She choked on her own laughter, holding her stomach as it ached. Her vulgarity was truly special. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I watch one of his movies, thanks. Like, a agree that he’s totally jack-off-able, but not exactly my type.”

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“Maybe I just think you look cute in that uniform,” the shorter girl snickered, grin tugging at her lips. “Can I get one of your world famous Coke floats?”

Athena smiled wide with a chuckle, then shrugging. “Fiiiine, for you I’ll stay a little longer. What are you having?”

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Wren pouted, cocking her head to the side and leaning over the counter just slightly. “But you’re my favorite,” she whined, looking up at the other girl through thick lashes.

Pulling her phone slightly out of her pocket and pressing the button so that she could see the time, she looked back up at the customer who was now going to sit behind the counter. “My shift is ending, but I can get you someone else if you want.”

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Wren tucked a strand of newly-blonde hair behind her ear; noticing the set of eyes on her, she turned her head to face the other person. “What?” she asked.

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“Oh, shit,” Wren stated, caught off guard. She’d probably ranted about this topic for a good two hours before, but as of right now, she was coming up with a big fat blank. Pausing the chewing of her gum, she stopped to ponder for about five seconds. “A bigger mall, for one thing,” she said, nodding her head in agreement with her own words. “And, like, more than two McDonald’s. Whatcha doin’, Bankston?”

No doubt there were easier ways to get an interview – but hell, Jules was in a hurry, and there was no way he was going to waste more time talking to the yokel locals than he could stand. Lips pursed, arms crossed, he loitered by the front steps of Quincy’s Mall, feeling more irritated by the second. He’d wanted to do the article on the Matherson Giants or Titans or whatever they called themselves, but no. If he were a petulant individual (which he was), he might consider this assignment some massive cosmic karma. As it was, he was only just content enough to see it through, albeit with minimal effort. Exhaling through his nose, Jules uncrossed his arms, recorder in hand, and pushed off from the wall. Choosing a stranger from the crowd at random, he wiped off his stormy expression and replaced it with a warm smile.

“Hey. Look, I’m sorry for jumpin’ in. I’m interviewing people about improvements to Bankston. If you’ve got five minutes, I’d love to have your opinion.” Just like how he’d love to have a bullet to the head.