mustang sally (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bloodiedfeet) wrote2012-09-20 08:24 pm
bloodiedfeet) wrote2012-09-20 08:24 pm
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It's been a long day, but to be fair most days are long for Sally. Between getting up extra early to stop by the shop and start up coffee for the guys and bring them bagels ( because if left to their own devices they'd eat donuts every morning), going to school, and going to the shop after school...she wears herself thin. But she likes doing these things every day and wouldn't have it any other way.
Coffee has become a staple in her life and her diet. Sometimes she drinks coffee for dinner, which she can hear Colby fussing about in the back of her head every time. Still. There are very few hours in each day to do everything she needs to do and still have time for homework.
As is quite usual for her she is sitting at her favorite coffee shop around the corner from the shop tonight. It's a pleasant evening so she has grabbed a table outside and has all of her work spread across it. She's on her second cup of coffee and struggling to stay interested in her homework. It's not easy. Math bores her terribly. But she's trying to get it all done and do it well, because she made a promise to Colby that she'd be a good girl and do well in school.
So she's here. Trying. She kind of hopes someone will come by and give her a good excuse to be distracted, but truthfully she doesn't have a lot of friends. At least not many her own age. She's a bit quiet at school. Unfortunately this means little social life and little hope in having a valid distraction.
Coffee has become a staple in her life and her diet. Sometimes she drinks coffee for dinner, which she can hear Colby fussing about in the back of her head every time. Still. There are very few hours in each day to do everything she needs to do and still have time for homework.
As is quite usual for her she is sitting at her favorite coffee shop around the corner from the shop tonight. It's a pleasant evening so she has grabbed a table outside and has all of her work spread across it. She's on her second cup of coffee and struggling to stay interested in her homework. It's not easy. Math bores her terribly. But she's trying to get it all done and do it well, because she made a promise to Colby that she'd be a good girl and do well in school.
So she's here. Trying. She kind of hopes someone will come by and give her a good excuse to be distracted, but truthfully she doesn't have a lot of friends. At least not many her own age. She's a bit quiet at school. Unfortunately this means little social life and little hope in having a valid distraction.
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He has been here a month which is long enough to get used to the city somewhat, get used to being separated from Aunt May, get used to not being able to get back, and start to absorb the information about this place.
"I don't like to walk. It's... not really my thing so." Peter holds the skateboard in his hand as he stands there in front of the table, shoulders slightly hunched in that loner, punk way of his, and he glances over out at the rest of the people at the cafe.
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Sometimes she wonders if she's really clueless as to who she goes to school with, or if the faces do actually change every day. Either one could be possible with her.
"Walking has it's moments, but I prefer to drive. Or take my bike." And by bike she doesn't mean something with two wheels and a bell. In fact there is a small motorbike parked along the curb not far from where they are, in perfect view of her table.
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The whole Rifts and the monsters and the dying and... all those things.
"Well, yeah, you can drive... if you have a car. I used to live in Manhattan so no one really drove there. You took the subway," he says, and ti's not like Aunt May and Uncle Ben could afford a car for him even if driving was more a thing then.
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"I think I'd drive no matter where I lived. It just makes me feel better. Especially when I'm on my bike, there's nothing like it." Lucky for Sally, her father-thing owned the shop she hangs out in and was able to give her a car as soon as she was old enough to drive. She treasures it even more so now that he's gone.
"I've never been to Manhattan though, so I don't know. It'd be cool to try the subway."
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"Well, the thing is, Manhattan's crowded. The streets are so you'd spend most of your time in standstill traffic, not moving at all, but that's what I had my skateboard for and the- the uh, subways. I used those a lot."
It gave him the feeling of not really going slow but having the world slide by him while he made it from one place to the next. His uncle and aunt only had the one car though, and his uncle used that so Peter would sometimes have to walk with Aunt May places when it was late at night.
That's what he failed to do the night- the night his uncle died.
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"That would probably drive me crazy," she admits. "Sitting still in traffic and everything. I hate traffic around here as it is. I like getting out on the freeway whenever I can."
When she's driving she's in another world, a world of her own making. When she needs to fall apart; she drives. Gets on the highway and drives while she breaks. When she's anxious, nervous, or too excited to sit still; she drives.
It's the only place that's hers.
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He smiles very faintly at what she says before he nods in agreement. "Never really liked it. Why I used the subway... or my board," Peter says as he looks sideways at her, pulling his own backpack up further on his shoulder.
That and there was only the one car.