The routine always went the same way.
Wake up. Question why you chose to make Close to Me your alarm. Spend a little bit of time listening to the song before you turn it off and prepare yourself to get out of bed. Spend like ten minutes preparing yourself to get out of bed. Get out of bed. Go to the kitchen. Go make breakfast, go turn your laptop on while the microwave cooks your cereal, go die, go have your breakfast, don’t go brush your teeth because you’re lazy and wanna go back to bed and you can do that later. Do that. Lay in bed for a long while. Get up, get dressed, get your bag packed and get your lunch off the table. Leave out the back door, say bye to your mom as she fumes up the entire back porch, set yourself to walk up the driveway, and-
See the little rain sprinkles fall from the heavens to the ground. Note the near-perfect Goldilocks conditions of ‘rainy enough to make walking fun, not rainy enough to justify going back into the house to get an umbrella.’
Pay attention to how the one thing different about the routine just made today a whole lot worse.
((Verity Stewart: Sandbox Start))
Brave the storm mild sprinkling anyway. Walk down your street, take a turn right, and begin the journey down the big fuckoff main street to get to the bus stop. It wasn’t all that bad. Like, it actually kinda really blew but it was the kind of shitty thing that happened often enough that Verity was appropriately way more desensitised than she really should’ve been. All she really needed to do to ignore the rain was just think about things like what the next SotF season was gonna be like and how the latest chapter in her novel was going and whether if a cyclist took her from behind she’d fall onto the road and get hit by a car and whether the power to ignore the rain by just burying herself in her headspace could extend to other things like getting hit by a car. It was really a testament to how little power the rain had that led to her being able to ignore it like this but whatever, dude. Verity totally had superpowers and you weren’t gonna take them away from her. She needed the universe to give her at least one talent, maybe that could just be compartmentalizing her pain and distracting herself even through right now it was basically pouring itself down on her by the-
She stopped. Both externally and internally. The bus stop was now right in front of her and now, for the next fifteen minutes, she could take a break. On the bench, this time (thank fuck) because none of the usual derros were here.
...Guess there were some things that made her mornings better after all. She went to the bench, took her bag off her back, and sat down. She laid herself back, started watching the cars going down the road, and transitioned from one routine to another.
Orlando Five-O
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DN4wtJT050I (open!)
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Wham Yubeesling
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Leslie could do this.
He could do it.
He had this.
Just gotta round the corner, wait for the bus, pay the fare, board, then pray to God no weird fellas decide to tell ya their life story for the whole twenty minute ride.
Maybe if he was really lucky a cyclist could take him by behind and he'd fall onto the road and get ran over by a sedan and sue but end up settling out of court for a respectable sum and be set for life. Wouldn't have to go to school through the foreseeable future, either.
Every step made that option more and more enticing.
((??? Leslie Lowell washes ashore into Sandbox))
Swear, that sunnovagun really did have a keen sense of humor, deciding that this week of all weeks to make the transmission in Leslie's truck go kaput. He really didn't have the luxury of time to fix it himself, but at least Mr. Curtis next door said he could look at it for him without shaking him down for all he had. Leslie didn't really have a choice.
Worst of all, Leslie was gonna be out of a ride for probably the rest of the week. Which meant taking the struggle bus, literally. Not that he'd never had to do it before, but he still hated it.
Anyway, the stop should be somewhere around here. He left a little early to make sure to get there in case he really went off the beaten path, but hopefully not too early so as to be the first one there. Being first sucked. Being second sucked maybe even more, since after all who does the first or second person get stuck with if the other person decides they're the perfect person to pitch their radical business idea to? Exactly. Being third was the better choice, fourth possibly best. Actually, fourth probably was the sweet spot of order, like in general.
Anyway, he turned the corner. Yep, it was right where he remembered.
Only one person was already there. Fuck. At least it was someone he was 80% sure he'd seen at school before, and 40% sure her name was Vanity or Vermillion or something artsy fartsy and strange like that which was rich considering what Dad insisted Leslie's first name would fucking be because of tradition but anyway some sort of commonality like that was good... right? R-right??
Maybe he could just double back, go around the block the other way, stand like a dumbass in the middle of the barely-a-drizzlin' rain, stall for time in case someone else showed up. The classic ruse.
...Except she probably already saw him now and that would just raise more questions she'd ask him when he'd inevitably have to come back.
...Fuck it! Fine. You win. He'll do it.
He adjusted his ballcap, rounded his shoulders shouldering the burden of his black backpack, stuck his hands deep in his front pockets and approached.
He made it. Kept a good few feet of distance away from Charity and really the bench in general. Shuffled his feet a bit. Sniffled, though it really came out more like a weird snort. Coughed.
Just stood there kinda... ya know, awkwardly. Hopefully he could just ride out these next few minutes.
He could do it.
He had this.
Just gotta round the corner, wait for the bus, pay the fare, board, then pray to God no weird fellas decide to tell ya their life story for the whole twenty minute ride.
Maybe if he was really lucky a cyclist could take him by behind and he'd fall onto the road and get ran over by a sedan and sue but end up settling out of court for a respectable sum and be set for life. Wouldn't have to go to school through the foreseeable future, either.
Every step made that option more and more enticing.
((??? Leslie Lowell washes ashore into Sandbox))
Swear, that sunnovagun really did have a keen sense of humor, deciding that this week of all weeks to make the transmission in Leslie's truck go kaput. He really didn't have the luxury of time to fix it himself, but at least Mr. Curtis next door said he could look at it for him without shaking him down for all he had. Leslie didn't really have a choice.
Worst of all, Leslie was gonna be out of a ride for probably the rest of the week. Which meant taking the struggle bus, literally. Not that he'd never had to do it before, but he still hated it.
Anyway, the stop should be somewhere around here. He left a little early to make sure to get there in case he really went off the beaten path, but hopefully not too early so as to be the first one there. Being first sucked. Being second sucked maybe even more, since after all who does the first or second person get stuck with if the other person decides they're the perfect person to pitch their radical business idea to? Exactly. Being third was the better choice, fourth possibly best. Actually, fourth probably was the sweet spot of order, like in general.
Anyway, he turned the corner. Yep, it was right where he remembered.
Only one person was already there. Fuck. At least it was someone he was 80% sure he'd seen at school before, and 40% sure her name was Vanity or Vermillion or something artsy fartsy and strange like that which was rich considering what Dad insisted Leslie's first name would fucking be because of tradition but anyway some sort of commonality like that was good... right? R-right??
Maybe he could just double back, go around the block the other way, stand like a dumbass in the middle of the barely-a-drizzlin' rain, stall for time in case someone else showed up. The classic ruse.
...Except she probably already saw him now and that would just raise more questions she'd ask him when he'd inevitably have to come back.
...Fuck it! Fine. You win. He'll do it.
He adjusted his ballcap, rounded his shoulders shouldering the burden of his black backpack, stuck his hands deep in his front pockets and approached.
He made it. Kept a good few feet of distance away from Charity and really the bench in general. Shuffled his feet a bit. Sniffled, though it really came out more like a weird snort. Coughed.
Just stood there kinda... ya know, awkwardly. Hopefully he could just ride out these next few minutes.
Mary was technically up since 4 in the morning. Technically.
She remembered opening her eyes. She remembered feeling her hair draped across her face. She remembered feeling a puddle of drool under her mouth, soaking into her pillow. She remembered laying on her side, towards the door. She remembered the darkness, the only light coming from her digital clock, and her phone still sitting next to her, which would occasionally light up with a PING. She remembered the quietness, stillness.
But she was too awake to go back to sleep, too tired to get up. So instead, she watched as the room slowly got lighter and the clock slowly made its way to 5:00. From there, it was a matter of baby steps.
She adjusted her heavy arms, then her legs. Deep breath. It took a few more minutes to summon some willpower to push her hair out of her face. Now came one of the hard parts: sitting up. Mary moved, once, twice, but the end result was that she turned her body, facing the wall. At some point the alarm on her phone went off, but she’d just slowly picked it up, shut it off, then continue as normal.
A few more minutes. It seemed longer.
Then she heard a noise on the bed, followed by a grey and white furry weight on top of her.
Mary jumped and finally moved again. The rabbit hopped off and landed to the side of the bed, looking at her intently.
“Ozzie? Uh… what time is it?” she mumbled. It came out incoherent.
With a stiff arm, she picked up the phone.
5:30.
Mary closed her eyes. One more try.
She sat up.
Now the hardest part.
____
From there, it was the typical morning ritual. Give the rabbits their breakfast, quickly clean their litter box and make sure they have enough hay to last them through the day, clean yourself up, put on makeup and fresh clothes, have breakfast, and head on out. Easy, right?
Everything went by so quickly she barely remembered it. Oswald and Ivy got their daily breakfast of greens, and they got hay and fresh litter. At some point, Mary heard herself saying “Bon appetit” to them when she put the greens tray down, only to correct herself to “Bun appetit.”
After she washed up, she changed out of the clothes she fell asleep in-- denim isn’t comfortable-- to a different outfit. This one was simple: black baggy tee tucked into a dark magenta pleated skirt. It was admittedly an "off" day in terms of outfits, but she improved things a little with her faux-stocking bunny tights, arm warmers, a long necklace, and a small choker. At some point her reflection frowned at her, until she thought to tie a flannel jacket around her waist. Once her hair and makeup was done, she continued frowning. Sometimes you just feel like an awkward cosplay of yourself, right?
She'd eventually taken a wrapped up slice of breakfast pizza--a gluten-free recipe she found a few days ago and had been picking at since-- along with a thermos of white tea. But then her morning routine had two… well, differences.
First off, it turned out Dad hadn't gotten to work yet, and he frowned at her until she wore her jacket normally and took an umbrella. Second, she… uh, totally forgot that she ran her bike over some glass that some joker left in the street, and she had to get it repaired sometime this afternoon. Dad offered to drive her, but it was a lot of "it's fine, I'll just walk".
That turned out to be a lie pretty quickly, though, as once she got some boots on and stepped outside with her backpack in tow, she looked up, saw the weather, felt the energy in the air, and decided she was feeling lazy. She looked back at the front door, before adjusting her umbrella where it was sticking out from her bag, slinging everything over her shoulder, and walking away, pizza and thermos in hand.
______
She wasn't that unathletic, but she had to admit, getting to sit down would be nice. Still felt a little… well, like she needed to nap a bit more.
When the bus stop finally came into view, her muscles clenched a bit.
Greeeeeat.
Like, Verity was in eighth place of "worst classmates who could be waiting at the bus stop.” But eighth place still meant top ten. But then there was also Leslie standing right there, and she was sure he was the bestest of friends with Emmett. They were giving each other pointers in Who Can Be More Hick: America’s Least Favorite Gameshow, at least.
Mary huffed. Okay, it'll just be, what, a few minutes? You could continue to pretend they don’t exist afterwards.
She strode over, slammed her backpack on the bench, set her pizza and thermos to the side, sat down a foot away from Verity, and took her phone out, checking the time. She cross-checked it with the bus schedule posted to her right.
Then:
"So… it's coming in a few, isn't it?"
Better ask them, she guessed? Like, sure, they didn't really like each other. Well, not her and Verity, dunno about Leslie. Eh, probably the same. But just ask and shut up.
She remembered opening her eyes. She remembered feeling her hair draped across her face. She remembered feeling a puddle of drool under her mouth, soaking into her pillow. She remembered laying on her side, towards the door. She remembered the darkness, the only light coming from her digital clock, and her phone still sitting next to her, which would occasionally light up with a PING. She remembered the quietness, stillness.
But she was too awake to go back to sleep, too tired to get up. So instead, she watched as the room slowly got lighter and the clock slowly made its way to 5:00. From there, it was a matter of baby steps.
She adjusted her heavy arms, then her legs. Deep breath. It took a few more minutes to summon some willpower to push her hair out of her face. Now came one of the hard parts: sitting up. Mary moved, once, twice, but the end result was that she turned her body, facing the wall. At some point the alarm on her phone went off, but she’d just slowly picked it up, shut it off, then continue as normal.
A few more minutes. It seemed longer.
Then she heard a noise on the bed, followed by a grey and white furry weight on top of her.
Mary jumped and finally moved again. The rabbit hopped off and landed to the side of the bed, looking at her intently.
“Ozzie? Uh… what time is it?” she mumbled. It came out incoherent.
With a stiff arm, she picked up the phone.
5:30.
Mary closed her eyes. One more try.
She sat up.
Now the hardest part.
____
From there, it was the typical morning ritual. Give the rabbits their breakfast, quickly clean their litter box and make sure they have enough hay to last them through the day, clean yourself up, put on makeup and fresh clothes, have breakfast, and head on out. Easy, right?
Everything went by so quickly she barely remembered it. Oswald and Ivy got their daily breakfast of greens, and they got hay and fresh litter. At some point, Mary heard herself saying “Bon appetit” to them when she put the greens tray down, only to correct herself to “Bun appetit.”
After she washed up, she changed out of the clothes she fell asleep in-- denim isn’t comfortable-- to a different outfit. This one was simple: black baggy tee tucked into a dark magenta pleated skirt. It was admittedly an "off" day in terms of outfits, but she improved things a little with her faux-stocking bunny tights, arm warmers, a long necklace, and a small choker. At some point her reflection frowned at her, until she thought to tie a flannel jacket around her waist. Once her hair and makeup was done, she continued frowning. Sometimes you just feel like an awkward cosplay of yourself, right?
She'd eventually taken a wrapped up slice of breakfast pizza--a gluten-free recipe she found a few days ago and had been picking at since-- along with a thermos of white tea. But then her morning routine had two… well, differences.
First off, it turned out Dad hadn't gotten to work yet, and he frowned at her until she wore her jacket normally and took an umbrella. Second, she… uh, totally forgot that she ran her bike over some glass that some joker left in the street, and she had to get it repaired sometime this afternoon. Dad offered to drive her, but it was a lot of "it's fine, I'll just walk".
That turned out to be a lie pretty quickly, though, as once she got some boots on and stepped outside with her backpack in tow, she looked up, saw the weather, felt the energy in the air, and decided she was feeling lazy. She looked back at the front door, before adjusting her umbrella where it was sticking out from her bag, slinging everything over her shoulder, and walking away, pizza and thermos in hand.
______
She wasn't that unathletic, but she had to admit, getting to sit down would be nice. Still felt a little… well, like she needed to nap a bit more.
When the bus stop finally came into view, her muscles clenched a bit.
Greeeeeat.
Like, Verity was in eighth place of "worst classmates who could be waiting at the bus stop.” But eighth place still meant top ten. But then there was also Leslie standing right there, and she was sure he was the bestest of friends with Emmett. They were giving each other pointers in Who Can Be More Hick: America’s Least Favorite Gameshow, at least.
Mary huffed. Okay, it'll just be, what, a few minutes? You could continue to pretend they don’t exist afterwards.
She strode over, slammed her backpack on the bench, set her pizza and thermos to the side, sat down a foot away from Verity, and took her phone out, checking the time. She cross-checked it with the bus schedule posted to her right.
Then:
"So… it's coming in a few, isn't it?"
Better ask them, she guessed? Like, sure, they didn't really like each other. Well, not her and Verity, dunno about Leslie. Eh, probably the same. But just ask and shut up.
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Wham Yubeesling
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The good part about none of the normal bus people being here: none of the normal bus people were here. If it weren’t for the bad part — that they’d apparently made way for people she actually knew to take their place — Verity would’ve been very happy to know that she could’ve been able to go a day without the fear of people she didn’t really know or like trying to talk to her rearing its very lovely head. She supposed that this was like, the universe doing a double dunk on her: ‘haha, you thought I was done just having it rain a little as you walked to the bus stop? behold, your worst nightmare! bow in terror because i am not gonna let up on you. consider yourself warned.’
It would’ve been fine if it were just Leslie she had to deal with. Really. Like, he wasn’t talking, and it was probably well-known enough that Verity didn’t like talking, so really, if it were just him, it would’ve been a fairly peaceful coexistence.
No. The problem was Mary. Mythic bitch. World’s worst group-project partner. Maybe the two of them being in the same vicinity at 7:25 in the morning could’ve been bearable a year or so ago, but now her sudden presence in a place she’d never been before just inspired a tidal wave of cringe and foreboding of fun times localized entirely in Verity’s body.
(whatever)
(not your fault she was a cunt about the whole thing)
But it was whatever. Verity could deal with this. Maybe once Mary’s question was answered she wouldn’t have anything more to say and the three of them here could spend the rest of this time period sitting in silence and not looking at each other.
Yeah. That’d be ideal.
“Yeah. Roughly… fifteen minutes. Assuming you’re catching the 35.”
It would’ve been fine if it were just Leslie she had to deal with. Really. Like, he wasn’t talking, and it was probably well-known enough that Verity didn’t like talking, so really, if it were just him, it would’ve been a fairly peaceful coexistence.
No. The problem was Mary. Mythic bitch. World’s worst group-project partner. Maybe the two of them being in the same vicinity at 7:25 in the morning could’ve been bearable a year or so ago, but now her sudden presence in a place she’d never been before just inspired a tidal wave of cringe and foreboding of fun times localized entirely in Verity’s body.
(whatever)
(not your fault she was a cunt about the whole thing)
But it was whatever. Verity could deal with this. Maybe once Mary’s question was answered she wouldn’t have anything more to say and the three of them here could spend the rest of this time period sitting in silence and not looking at each other.
Yeah. That’d be ideal.
“Yeah. Roughly… fifteen minutes. Assuming you’re catching the 35.”
And here came Mary. Guess even the upper echelons had to rough it on the bus sometimes.
Maybe that was a little mean. Mary was all right, at least compared to some of these other freaks running around. Leslie always got the feeling she didn't think too mighty kind of him, but he also didn't particularly care about her enough to change that either. He never said more than maybe three words to her in the past, so if that defined the extent of their relationship then that was perfectly fine.
He took a step or two farther back as she sat down on the bench. She asked somethin' about the bus schedule, and Verity (in hindsight he was maybe really 70% sure it was Verity so he was just gonna roll with that until proven otherwise) chimed in so he did the same.
Or rather, he chimed in with a head nod he was sure either of the two girls probably wouldn't notice or wouldn't care but whatever. His eyes stayed glued to his feet as the rain kept plonking down. Couldn't tell if the breaks in the drops were getting shorter and harder or not. Really hoped that wasn't the case.
Regardless, fifteen minutes. That was all he had to do to survive.
On second thought he probably was obligated to say something now, at least make that initial effort that he wasn't ignoring either of the girls as much as he wished he just could. So he decided to whip out a small talk oldie but a goodie.
"Wish it would stop raining. Gettin' kinda tired of it."
Maybe that was a little mean. Mary was all right, at least compared to some of these other freaks running around. Leslie always got the feeling she didn't think too mighty kind of him, but he also didn't particularly care about her enough to change that either. He never said more than maybe three words to her in the past, so if that defined the extent of their relationship then that was perfectly fine.
He took a step or two farther back as she sat down on the bench. She asked somethin' about the bus schedule, and Verity (in hindsight he was maybe really 70% sure it was Verity so he was just gonna roll with that until proven otherwise) chimed in so he did the same.
Or rather, he chimed in with a head nod he was sure either of the two girls probably wouldn't notice or wouldn't care but whatever. His eyes stayed glued to his feet as the rain kept plonking down. Couldn't tell if the breaks in the drops were getting shorter and harder or not. Really hoped that wasn't the case.
Regardless, fifteen minutes. That was all he had to do to survive.
On second thought he probably was obligated to say something now, at least make that initial effort that he wasn't ignoring either of the girls as much as he wished he just could. So he decided to whip out a small talk oldie but a goodie.
"Wish it would stop raining. Gettin' kinda tired of it."
"Mm."
Ah yes, one of the trinity of I-have-no-idea-how-to-move-this-convo-forward. Sports teams, how your day's going, and the weather. Can't blame him, though, sometimes her brain pooped itself too. It did that a lot.
"At least the plants are getting a nice drink."
Mary slowly closed her eyes for a moment, leaning forward on her hand. Sometimes you just get that feeling in your bones, where you’re tired but not really, and it makes you cranky. It didn’t help that she had a basketcase and a rube to spend 15 minutes with right now.
Is the basketcase her, Verity, or both? Hahahaha, very funny self.
Anyways.
15 minutes of this. Then you could sit faaaaar away and never have to think about them again for a while.
“Do you guys, like, take the bus regularly?”
Admittedly, it was good to take notes, because like, she might end up in this situation again.
Ah yes, one of the trinity of I-have-no-idea-how-to-move-this-convo-forward. Sports teams, how your day's going, and the weather. Can't blame him, though, sometimes her brain pooped itself too. It did that a lot.
"At least the plants are getting a nice drink."
Mary slowly closed her eyes for a moment, leaning forward on her hand. Sometimes you just get that feeling in your bones, where you’re tired but not really, and it makes you cranky. It didn’t help that she had a basketcase and a rube to spend 15 minutes with right now.
Is the basketcase her, Verity, or both? Hahahaha, very funny self.
Anyways.
15 minutes of this. Then you could sit faaaaar away and never have to think about them again for a while.
“Do you guys, like, take the bus regularly?”
Admittedly, it was good to take notes, because like, she might end up in this situation again.
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Wham Yubeesling
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“Yeah. Have to, um, do it every time my parents can’t take me.”
It wasn’t really a great contribution to the conversation (though really, why was Verity even bothering to try and participate in this?), but whatever, the choices she had were ‘talk about the bus’ or ‘talk about the rain’ and really out of the two of those there was only one thing that’d be of actual worth. Like, thinking about it the rain extra sucked because it meant that the library was going to become way worse than it usually was (and she wouldn’t be able to go into her special place because somebody else would already be in her special place), but that wasn’t exactly something she could vent about to the people here. Oversharing — or really, any type of sharing — was not socially appropriate in the halls of Mangrove Garden. You either keep your shit inside you or get known as that loser who had an anxiety attack during a religion exam, of all things. No its, no buts, no room for sympathy.
No, Verity wasn’t bitter.
Totally.
Because the rain was not the thing she had chosen to talk about with Mary and Leslie. Instead she had chosen the bus. Specifically, the bus that was actually a little better today.
“Lucky you came today. Usually there’s this whole group of workers here. They…”
(aren’t right in the head)
(probably didn’t make it through high school)
(are very clearly not fit to be in public)
“Aren’t fun to be around.”
It wasn’t really a great contribution to the conversation (though really, why was Verity even bothering to try and participate in this?), but whatever, the choices she had were ‘talk about the bus’ or ‘talk about the rain’ and really out of the two of those there was only one thing that’d be of actual worth. Like, thinking about it the rain extra sucked because it meant that the library was going to become way worse than it usually was (and she wouldn’t be able to go into her special place because somebody else would already be in her special place), but that wasn’t exactly something she could vent about to the people here. Oversharing — or really, any type of sharing — was not socially appropriate in the halls of Mangrove Garden. You either keep your shit inside you or get known as that loser who had an anxiety attack during a religion exam, of all things. No its, no buts, no room for sympathy.
No, Verity wasn’t bitter.
Totally.
Because the rain was not the thing she had chosen to talk about with Mary and Leslie. Instead she had chosen the bus. Specifically, the bus that was actually a little better today.
“Lucky you came today. Usually there’s this whole group of workers here. They…”
(aren’t right in the head)
(probably didn’t make it through high school)
(are very clearly not fit to be in public)
“Aren’t fun to be around.”
Leslie shook his head and waited for Verity to finish. "Truck's broke. Buddy's taking a look at it but probably gonna be bussing it through the week."
You never really experienced freedom until you got a car and license, but boy you never really experienced imprisonment until that got taken from you. Thank God there was the bus at least, as much as Leslie hated taking it. Lately it's felt like every time he got in a car with Mom he'd consider chewing his leg off to escape like a trapped animal. Couldn't imagine having to still rely on hour parents to get anywhere.
He opened his mouth to flip the question back to Mary when Verity interrupted in a suspiciously discriminate tone.
Leslie spat on the ground away from the girls and waddled closer to the bench, but still not too close. "They weirdos or someth'n?"
You never really experienced freedom until you got a car and license, but boy you never really experienced imprisonment until that got taken from you. Thank God there was the bus at least, as much as Leslie hated taking it. Lately it's felt like every time he got in a car with Mom he'd consider chewing his leg off to escape like a trapped animal. Couldn't imagine having to still rely on hour parents to get anywhere.
He opened his mouth to flip the question back to Mary when Verity interrupted in a suspiciously discriminate tone.
Leslie spat on the ground away from the girls and waddled closer to the bench, but still not too close. "They weirdos or someth'n?"
"Oh, you too? My bike's broken because some jerkface left their broken glass bottles in the bike lane, right? So it's supposed to get repaired, like, soon."
Mary frowned. It sucked, and it was a lot of cursing and heavy breathing and curling up into bed and wondering if she could tell her parents after. Thankfully, a popped tire was minor in comparison to other things, but still frustrating. She wasn't sure who to blame. She felt angry at the loser who thought the bike lane was the best place to discard glass, she felt angry at herself, and she felt angry at Dr. Velazquez, because, like, he didn't do anything directly with the bike but she still had to see his smug face first thing today, and he'd be like "why are you late for math, loser?" if the bus came later than expected.
She bounced her foot against the pavement in a rhythm, but she had to recoil a moment at Leslie spitting onto the ground like a savage. Gee, thanks for that. And while asking if the workers were weirdos too, without a trace of irony. Mary sucked in a breath.
"Do they like… try to hit on you? Tell you a whole novella about themselves? Bug you when you don't want to be bugged? Can relate to all, honestly," she said to Verity.
Knowing Verity, the answer was "they exist and I hate it." It was good to know they didn't come here often. But Leslie and Verity reminded her of the one thing she hated about public transportation: the people. Sometimes it got crowded and everyone got crammed in like a can of sardines. Sometimes the bus driver is an overworked jerk. And sometimes, you get a guy twice your age inviting you to 'a party.' Like, sure, she probs would have accepted, if he wasn't like, in his 30s and hitting on her. It was skeevy as all out. Putting your headphones and sunglasses on helped a little. Sure it would still be stinky and crowded and weird, but at least people don't bug you as much.
Mary frowned. It sucked, and it was a lot of cursing and heavy breathing and curling up into bed and wondering if she could tell her parents after. Thankfully, a popped tire was minor in comparison to other things, but still frustrating. She wasn't sure who to blame. She felt angry at the loser who thought the bike lane was the best place to discard glass, she felt angry at herself, and she felt angry at Dr. Velazquez, because, like, he didn't do anything directly with the bike but she still had to see his smug face first thing today, and he'd be like "why are you late for math, loser?" if the bus came later than expected.
She bounced her foot against the pavement in a rhythm, but she had to recoil a moment at Leslie spitting onto the ground like a savage. Gee, thanks for that. And while asking if the workers were weirdos too, without a trace of irony. Mary sucked in a breath.
"Do they like… try to hit on you? Tell you a whole novella about themselves? Bug you when you don't want to be bugged? Can relate to all, honestly," she said to Verity.
Knowing Verity, the answer was "they exist and I hate it." It was good to know they didn't come here often. But Leslie and Verity reminded her of the one thing she hated about public transportation: the people. Sometimes it got crowded and everyone got crammed in like a can of sardines. Sometimes the bus driver is an overworked jerk. And sometimes, you get a guy twice your age inviting you to 'a party.' Like, sure, she probs would have accepted, if he wasn't like, in his 30s and hitting on her. It was skeevy as all out. Putting your headphones and sunglasses on helped a little. Sure it would still be stinky and crowded and weird, but at least people don't bug you as much.
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Wham Yubeesling
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“Yeah. Weirdos.”
It felt kinda like a shitty thing to say given that they seemed like the kind of people who didn’t really need or deserve teenage girls internally castigating them but whatever, if Leslie or Mary took the bus every week like Verity did she was sure that they’d think the same way she thinked. It was kinda really telling that... whatever type of awkward, stilted convo this was was still way more preferable to the usual routine of ‘deal with whatever likely high school dropouts plague Miami at 7:30 in the morning until the 57/34 come around, spend the last five minutes before your bus around sitting by yourself hoping someone you know will come around and make this way more interesting.’
At least getting to see what not-making-it-past-high-school looked served as pretty adequate motivation. Really helped make it clear, for better or worse, that Verity needed to either get to college or die trying.
Hopefully the former. Probably the latter. It was only 7:30 AM and today was already a great day for good thoughts.
“Like, they don’t, uh, really actually do anything or talk to me, but, like, there’s always a sense that they’re always two seconds away from doing so, and that, like…”
Verity in particular thought about the guy who would always just start lashing out against the air roughly where Leslie was right now. Wondered once again why he kept doing that. Wondered what would happen if Verity looked at him funny.
“If they do, I’m not going to get out uninjured, or something.”
It felt kinda like a shitty thing to say given that they seemed like the kind of people who didn’t really need or deserve teenage girls internally castigating them but whatever, if Leslie or Mary took the bus every week like Verity did she was sure that they’d think the same way she thinked. It was kinda really telling that... whatever type of awkward, stilted convo this was was still way more preferable to the usual routine of ‘deal with whatever likely high school dropouts plague Miami at 7:30 in the morning until the 57/34 come around, spend the last five minutes before your bus around sitting by yourself hoping someone you know will come around and make this way more interesting.’
At least getting to see what not-making-it-past-high-school looked served as pretty adequate motivation. Really helped make it clear, for better or worse, that Verity needed to either get to college or die trying.
Hopefully the former. Probably the latter. It was only 7:30 AM and today was already a great day for good thoughts.
“Like, they don’t, uh, really actually do anything or talk to me, but, like, there’s always a sense that they’re always two seconds away from doing so, and that, like…”
Verity in particular thought about the guy who would always just start lashing out against the air roughly where Leslie was right now. Wondered once again why he kept doing that. Wondered what would happen if Verity looked at him funny.
“If they do, I’m not going to get out uninjured, or something.”
Oh geez.
Honestly, it would explain a lot. If Mary had to get up every morning to hang out with the bus stop with weird shifty people, she too would be a butt like Verity. It was bad enough dealing with the trash fire humans at school, she couldn’t imagine dealing with creepy bus stop jerks day after day after day after day. Of course, it wouldn’t make everything justfied, but it at least explained it.
“Well,” Mary slid her hand down to drape her arm across her lap. “If someone comes by and starts jerking around… uh, I’ll beat them up! Dunno how, but I can probably get a few swings in.”
Despite the jokes and the smile on her face, Mary’s gaze followed Verity’s, vaguely in the direction of Leslie. If these people were truly the kind of people Verity would be concerned for her wellbeing around, they were probably something worse than stinky druggies or even creepy ephebos. Like, sure, she could be overreacting, which was well in the realm of Verityland. But, she didn’t want to be the jerk who was all ‘you’re making it up you drama queen oh no why didn’t you tell us sooner?’
She always hated that in movies. Real life, too. Annoying, annoying. So annoying.
Surprisingly, Verity and Leslie weren’t, at least by their usual standards. Convo was awkward, sure, and Leslie still spat onto the ground which was disgusting, but it was better than what you’d expect.
She sucked in a breath, feeling tension in her limbs. For a moment, she thought about what might happen if someone did come by to illustrate Verity’s point. She wondered if she made a good choice to come down to the bus stop today.
Honestly, it would explain a lot. If Mary had to get up every morning to hang out with the bus stop with weird shifty people, she too would be a butt like Verity. It was bad enough dealing with the trash fire humans at school, she couldn’t imagine dealing with creepy bus stop jerks day after day after day after day. Of course, it wouldn’t make everything justfied, but it at least explained it.
“Well,” Mary slid her hand down to drape her arm across her lap. “If someone comes by and starts jerking around… uh, I’ll beat them up! Dunno how, but I can probably get a few swings in.”
Despite the jokes and the smile on her face, Mary’s gaze followed Verity’s, vaguely in the direction of Leslie. If these people were truly the kind of people Verity would be concerned for her wellbeing around, they were probably something worse than stinky druggies or even creepy ephebos. Like, sure, she could be overreacting, which was well in the realm of Verityland. But, she didn’t want to be the jerk who was all ‘you’re making it up you drama queen oh no why didn’t you tell us sooner?’
She always hated that in movies. Real life, too. Annoying, annoying. So annoying.
Surprisingly, Verity and Leslie weren’t, at least by their usual standards. Convo was awkward, sure, and Leslie still spat onto the ground which was disgusting, but it was better than what you’d expect.
She sucked in a breath, feeling tension in her limbs. For a moment, she thought about what might happen if someone did come by to illustrate Verity’s point. She wondered if she made a good choice to come down to the bus stop today.
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Wham Yubeesling
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“Uh…”
Wasn’t really every day where Mary, mythic bitch herself, offered to help you out. Also wasn’t really every day where Mary, mythic bitch herself, was actually in your life so maybe this was the norm more than the exception. Maybe Verity was a little wrong in the assumption that Mary was a jerk and as thus fully deserved any jerkiness she internally gave her back. Wouldn’t be the first time. The best part of the extreme self defence way of dealing with jerks was that you were justified for everything you do because, theoretically, they started it. The worst part of the extreme self defence way of dealing with jerks was that if they weren’t a jerk, you were a jerk.
But it was fine. Verity was okay with getting sued. Just, uh, had to make sure Mary didn’t actually punch someone out on her behalf. The gesture was appreciated, but Verity didn’t really need anything nice done for her. She could deal.
“Thanks, but, uh, it’s probably fine,” she said. “Like, they don’t actually, like, touch me or talk to me or anything, it’s just, um, they just kind of do weird things around me and I keep thinking that eventually they’re suddenly going to direct those weird things at me.”
There was a little bit of a fear that what she was going to say was suddenly arbitrarily going to make Mary hate her again, but who dares wins, right?
...That was probably why Verity was who she was. She never dared.
Wasn’t really every day where Mary, mythic bitch herself, offered to help you out. Also wasn’t really every day where Mary, mythic bitch herself, was actually in your life so maybe this was the norm more than the exception. Maybe Verity was a little wrong in the assumption that Mary was a jerk and as thus fully deserved any jerkiness she internally gave her back. Wouldn’t be the first time. The best part of the extreme self defence way of dealing with jerks was that you were justified for everything you do because, theoretically, they started it. The worst part of the extreme self defence way of dealing with jerks was that if they weren’t a jerk, you were a jerk.
But it was fine. Verity was okay with getting sued. Just, uh, had to make sure Mary didn’t actually punch someone out on her behalf. The gesture was appreciated, but Verity didn’t really need anything nice done for her. She could deal.
“Thanks, but, uh, it’s probably fine,” she said. “Like, they don’t actually, like, touch me or talk to me or anything, it’s just, um, they just kind of do weird things around me and I keep thinking that eventually they’re suddenly going to direct those weird things at me.”
There was a little bit of a fear that what she was going to say was suddenly arbitrarily going to make Mary hate her again, but who dares wins, right?
...That was probably why Verity was who she was. She never dared.
Mary stopped smiling.
“Ah.”
Is that all Mary? No other comments? Yeah, ‘ah’ was what she was going with. It seemed Verity didn’t appreciate her little joke, and gave her this look of ‘why are you like this.’ Or, at least, Mary felt.
She hated that.
It was bad enough they had beef. Like, Mary had issues, sure, but Verity didn’t need to be so…
Mary clenched her fists, before relaxing a bit. She’s tense, you’re tense, Leslie is probably tense, right? Verity had to deal with loser freaks every morning and be worried about them being even more of loser freaks than usual. Mary had to force herself to get out of bed sometimes. And who knows with Leslie? Okay, he had to deal with Emmett, who she also had to deal with, and Emmett was himself a loser who… you know what? Thinking about the other buttholes wasn’t going to help her with her current sitch.
She said nothing else, just looked at her phone for a second or what seemed like such, and--
A loud sound filled the air. Mary flinched. Oh right, bus.
Mary fetched her things, boarded, paid her toll, and found an empty seat. There were two other empty seats near her. She wondered if Verity and/or Leslie was going to choose those seats or find some different ones. She wondered which one she would prefer.
She pulled out her headphones from her bag, and listened to music for the rest of the ride. It helped when dealing with creepy bus people at least.
((Mary Cheung continued 제 눈에 안경이다))
“Ah.”
Is that all Mary? No other comments? Yeah, ‘ah’ was what she was going with. It seemed Verity didn’t appreciate her little joke, and gave her this look of ‘why are you like this.’ Or, at least, Mary felt.
She hated that.
It was bad enough they had beef. Like, Mary had issues, sure, but Verity didn’t need to be so…
Mary clenched her fists, before relaxing a bit. She’s tense, you’re tense, Leslie is probably tense, right? Verity had to deal with loser freaks every morning and be worried about them being even more of loser freaks than usual. Mary had to force herself to get out of bed sometimes. And who knows with Leslie? Okay, he had to deal with Emmett, who she also had to deal with, and Emmett was himself a loser who… you know what? Thinking about the other buttholes wasn’t going to help her with her current sitch.
She said nothing else, just looked at her phone for a second or what seemed like such, and--
A loud sound filled the air. Mary flinched. Oh right, bus.
Mary fetched her things, boarded, paid her toll, and found an empty seat. There were two other empty seats near her. She wondered if Verity and/or Leslie was going to choose those seats or find some different ones. She wondered which one she would prefer.
She pulled out her headphones from her bag, and listened to music for the rest of the ride. It helped when dealing with creepy bus people at least.
((Mary Cheung continued 제 눈에 안경이다))
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Wham Yubeesling
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A nod. An ‘ah.’ Nothing more.
Good way of making it clear that the moment was over. Maybe there’d be a point where Mary would speak up again and begin another moment, but this moment where Mary was for once maybe not a cunt? Yeah. Done and dusted. Any attempt to bring it back would just make Verity come off as if she didn’t know how to be a human being so for once Verity was actually going to have social skills. Watch the rain, instead. Listen to it sprinkle down and feel the bits of it that hadn’t dried off yet on her and just sit here. Stare into the distance. The day had decided to finally stop being unique so it was back to the routine. What came next after Verity finally found a seat at the bus stop and phased out for a few minutes?
...Oh. Right. The bus. Here it come.
She stood up. Readjusted her bag so that it was lodged on her shoulder. Decided to let Mary enter first because she might as well be a little nice back to Mary and then entered herself. She showed her bus pass to the driver, scanned for an empty seat, and-
Found a couple, actually. One near the back, two more close to Mary. Routine dictated that she sit as close to the back as she possibly could, but…
Whatever. The routine told her to get fucked today so she was gonna tell the routine to get fucked back. She took a couple steps, turned at the bus seat on the other side of the bus from Mary, and took her spot there. Put her bag on the spot to her right (look, there were a bunch of free seats all around this bus, nobody needed the option to sit next to her), got snug, and waited for the bus to start. For the routine to continue, regardless of anything she could do about it.
But… that was whatever, too. Maybe in the grand scheme of things this was only, like, one hit point of damage against the all-powerful schedule that ruled her life, but…
Eh. Things had been different enough today. Small victories.
((Verity Stewart, continued elsewhere))
Good way of making it clear that the moment was over. Maybe there’d be a point where Mary would speak up again and begin another moment, but this moment where Mary was for once maybe not a cunt? Yeah. Done and dusted. Any attempt to bring it back would just make Verity come off as if she didn’t know how to be a human being so for once Verity was actually going to have social skills. Watch the rain, instead. Listen to it sprinkle down and feel the bits of it that hadn’t dried off yet on her and just sit here. Stare into the distance. The day had decided to finally stop being unique so it was back to the routine. What came next after Verity finally found a seat at the bus stop and phased out for a few minutes?
...Oh. Right. The bus. Here it come.
She stood up. Readjusted her bag so that it was lodged on her shoulder. Decided to let Mary enter first because she might as well be a little nice back to Mary and then entered herself. She showed her bus pass to the driver, scanned for an empty seat, and-
Found a couple, actually. One near the back, two more close to Mary. Routine dictated that she sit as close to the back as she possibly could, but…
Whatever. The routine told her to get fucked today so she was gonna tell the routine to get fucked back. She took a couple steps, turned at the bus seat on the other side of the bus from Mary, and took her spot there. Put her bag on the spot to her right (look, there were a bunch of free seats all around this bus, nobody needed the option to sit next to her), got snug, and waited for the bus to start. For the routine to continue, regardless of anything she could do about it.
But… that was whatever, too. Maybe in the grand scheme of things this was only, like, one hit point of damage against the all-powerful schedule that ruled her life, but…
Eh. Things had been different enough today. Small victories.
((Verity Stewart, continued elsewhere))
Leslie quietly got on the bus after Mary and Verity and plopped down somewhere in the back.
((to be continued))
((to be continued))