((Jay Harland continued from Study Buddies))
Jay Harland was sat on a bus bench.
Next to him, he had two bags. One contained a new pair of shorts, after his last pair had torn on a glass shard some idiot had left out in the middle of the field. Jay had luckily avoided it during his slide tackle; two more inches to the right and he would not have been so fortunate.
The other bag had a notebook and pens. If anyone asked, it was for school, but the truth was that he'd filled up his last one with a story he was working on. It was about a man who's popularity had become all encompassing, to the point that people were hunting him down to try and mount him on their wall. He was planning on ending it with the protagonist destroying his reputation, only to realise how empty it had left him and wind up taking his own life. It was a pretty great concept, if he did say so himself.
The sky was overcast, and he didn't want to risk getting caught out in the rain. His phone had a dead battery, so he was already feeling restless.
Sitting on a Bus Bench
The most Open bus bench in town
((Nate Chauncey continued from Splatter Job))
While it was occasionally nice to treat herself to some of the more unusual materials for her art, Nate usually came to the plaza to buy her supplies. Though she was lucky in that her family never wanted for money or luxuries, sometimes a few simple goods were all she needed, and when she knew what she wanted, it wasn't worth the effort going to a specialty store.
The downside was, of course, that sometimes she had to take public transportation. For example, today, her family was at a sports event of some kind, which Nate had politely declined to attend. They seemed disappointed, and Nate had agreed to find some other thing to join them in another time. Still, spending hours in crowded, loud bleachers sounded like an exercise in anxiety.
Luckily, the bus stop near the plaza was pretty punctual and was usually not too crazy. Today, the bus bench was occupied, but that wasn't abnormal. Specifically, the person was redheaded young man with two bags, and Nate had a weird sense of recognizing him. Doubly weird since she almost never recognized people, unless they were related, and then it was more that they shared the 'classic' Chauncey build than her own personal awareness.
Oh, wait, was he the guy who punched someone out? Possibly. Nate wasn't exactly a rumormonger, but it had been a hot topic for a while so she'd overheard at least one version of the story when it happened. She got the impression that while he had a temper, the fight had been started because the other person had made a comment about his sexuality. Or something.
Nate would try not to bring it up. She didn't want to be forced off the bench and into the rain, after all.
Nate quietly sat down next to Jay (though in truth she wasn't sure if his name began with a J or a D, let alone it's actual form) and held her canvas grocery bag on her lap in her arms to save space. The sky was getting awfully dark, as she turned her head up to watch the clouds. It was actually quite lovely now, the shades of gray mixed with glimmers of sunlight and slate colors. Eventually it'd all be a charcoal color, so she savored the beauty while it was there.
While it was occasionally nice to treat herself to some of the more unusual materials for her art, Nate usually came to the plaza to buy her supplies. Though she was lucky in that her family never wanted for money or luxuries, sometimes a few simple goods were all she needed, and when she knew what she wanted, it wasn't worth the effort going to a specialty store.
The downside was, of course, that sometimes she had to take public transportation. For example, today, her family was at a sports event of some kind, which Nate had politely declined to attend. They seemed disappointed, and Nate had agreed to find some other thing to join them in another time. Still, spending hours in crowded, loud bleachers sounded like an exercise in anxiety.
Luckily, the bus stop near the plaza was pretty punctual and was usually not too crazy. Today, the bus bench was occupied, but that wasn't abnormal. Specifically, the person was redheaded young man with two bags, and Nate had a weird sense of recognizing him. Doubly weird since she almost never recognized people, unless they were related, and then it was more that they shared the 'classic' Chauncey build than her own personal awareness.
Oh, wait, was he the guy who punched someone out? Possibly. Nate wasn't exactly a rumormonger, but it had been a hot topic for a while so she'd overheard at least one version of the story when it happened. She got the impression that while he had a temper, the fight had been started because the other person had made a comment about his sexuality. Or something.
Nate would try not to bring it up. She didn't want to be forced off the bench and into the rain, after all.
Nate quietly sat down next to Jay (though in truth she wasn't sure if his name began with a J or a D, let alone it's actual form) and held her canvas grocery bag on her lap in her arms to save space. The sky was getting awfully dark, as she turned her head up to watch the clouds. It was actually quite lovely now, the shades of gray mixed with glimmers of sunlight and slate colors. Eventually it'd all be a charcoal color, so she savored the beauty while it was there.
Jay slouched forwards, letting out a very bored groan. He saw Nate sit next to him out of the corner of his eye, and paid about as much attention to her as anyone would at a bus stop. He reached for his phone, before remembering that it was as lifeless as the current situation.
A few moments passed, the world going by but the busses not, until Jay decide to switch it up a notch by leaning backwards, into the seat.
Woo.
Letting out another long groan, because why the hell did busses always take literally forever, he tilted his head to get another look at Nate. He shrugged, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do.
“Hey. You go to P.J. Hobbs?” he asked, some semblance of a smile trying to come out through the overwhelming drudgery.
A few moments passed, the world going by but the busses not, until Jay decide to switch it up a notch by leaning backwards, into the seat.
Woo.
Letting out another long groan, because why the hell did busses always take literally forever, he tilted his head to get another look at Nate. He shrugged, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do.
“Hey. You go to P.J. Hobbs?” he asked, some semblance of a smile trying to come out through the overwhelming drudgery.
Rain smelled nice, a sort of...what was the word? Er, there probably was one, but Nate had never been one with a huge vocabulary. That was what thesauruses were for. Either way, the imminent deluge was like the sky holding its breath, ready to exhale rain.
That had potential for a song, maybe. Too bad she didn't have anything to write with, she'd probably forget about it by the time she got home. A lost possibility, never to see the light of the sun. Oh well.
Swinging her legs back and forth, Nate huddled into her hoodie a bit as the cool wind picked up a bit. Nature was pretty, in general. Denton had some nice greenery, but the generally all the big urban landscaping wasn't as nice.
She heard, almost distantly, the young man speaking to her. She turned to look at him. He was smiling, and his question sounded like regular small talk. He seemed restless, so it would probably be nice of her to give him something to do.
"Yeah. You too?" Nate replied just as the first hints of precipitation brushed against her face as the wind blew the sprinkling sideways. She pulled up her hoodie and unconsciously curled protectively around the bags on her lap.
That had potential for a song, maybe. Too bad she didn't have anything to write with, she'd probably forget about it by the time she got home. A lost possibility, never to see the light of the sun. Oh well.
Swinging her legs back and forth, Nate huddled into her hoodie a bit as the cool wind picked up a bit. Nature was pretty, in general. Denton had some nice greenery, but the generally all the big urban landscaping wasn't as nice.
She heard, almost distantly, the young man speaking to her. She turned to look at him. He was smiling, and his question sounded like regular small talk. He seemed restless, so it would probably be nice of her to give him something to do.
"Yeah. You too?" Nate replied just as the first hints of precipitation brushed against her face as the wind blew the sprinkling sideways. She pulled up her hoodie and unconsciously curled protectively around the bags on her lap.
Well, yeah. Obviously.
“Yup. Maybe you’ve seen me around? Star of the soccer team?”
His bored smile turned into a cheeky grin, but couldn’t mask a lack of enthusiasm. For some reason, as much as he could talk about the most inane crap over the phone, he couldn’t stand small talk. Just felt like pointless filler a lot of the time. Still, he couldn’t change the situation. No phone, no choice.
He was getting a better look at Nate (pretty skinny and unkempt for him; he preferred chicks who had it going on) until she went and hid herself inside her hoodie right as they started talking. Kay.
“What’re you, cold or something?”
It was that, or she was trying to brush him off. Maybe she didn’t like small talk either. Maybe she was just a bitch.
Meh, he still didn’t have any better options.
“Get anything good?” he asked, pointing at the bags in her lap.
“Yup. Maybe you’ve seen me around? Star of the soccer team?”
His bored smile turned into a cheeky grin, but couldn’t mask a lack of enthusiasm. For some reason, as much as he could talk about the most inane crap over the phone, he couldn’t stand small talk. Just felt like pointless filler a lot of the time. Still, he couldn’t change the situation. No phone, no choice.
He was getting a better look at Nate (pretty skinny and unkempt for him; he preferred chicks who had it going on) until she went and hid herself inside her hoodie right as they started talking. Kay.
“What’re you, cold or something?”
It was that, or she was trying to brush him off. Maybe she didn’t like small talk either. Maybe she was just a bitch.
Meh, he still didn’t have any better options.
“Get anything good?” he asked, pointing at the bags in her lap.
She still couldn't remember his name off-hand. The soccer reference did nothing to jog Nate's memory, and she wasn't sure she'd ever met him before. Faces were hard. It was especially weird because the more she'd tried to identify him, the less confident she felt. At a distance, she'd recognized him, but up close she was second-guessing his features.
Nate made a vaguely affirmative 'mhm', and let him continue asking questions. Sheesh, wasn't it supposed to be warming up soon? Stupid frivolous climate. Talk about a fair-weather friend. Huh, that was kind of clever. She'd need to remember that one.
"Yeah, I don't like this weather." An eddy of wind blew her hood down and made her squint as it struck her face with cold mist. Rubbing her eyes, Nate grimaced and pulled her hood back over her head before returning to her tortoise-like defensive posture.
"Just art supplies. I needed a new fan brush." She'd also gotten a few different acrylics since she'd accidentally let the old ones dry out and become unusable. Also the brush had mysteriously disappeared, though in fairness she rarely used it anyway and so it was hard to keep track of in general.
As she glanced up at his face again, Nate absently considered his features. It wasn't to discern his attractiveness level so much as to consider him as a subject for art. His hair was an interesting color, one she'd love to recreate in paint. His jawline had an interesting contour, kind of classically masculine if that was still a thing. He had a dynamic and expressive mouth, and his eyes were nicely spaced. Freckles were fun to draw, and they added a neat layer of depth to the face beyond shading.
Hm, maybe she'd been staring too long. Some people got offended by that, so Nate rubbed her eyes again and returned her gaze forward into the rain.
Nate made a vaguely affirmative 'mhm', and let him continue asking questions. Sheesh, wasn't it supposed to be warming up soon? Stupid frivolous climate. Talk about a fair-weather friend. Huh, that was kind of clever. She'd need to remember that one.
"Yeah, I don't like this weather." An eddy of wind blew her hood down and made her squint as it struck her face with cold mist. Rubbing her eyes, Nate grimaced and pulled her hood back over her head before returning to her tortoise-like defensive posture.
"Just art supplies. I needed a new fan brush." She'd also gotten a few different acrylics since she'd accidentally let the old ones dry out and become unusable. Also the brush had mysteriously disappeared, though in fairness she rarely used it anyway and so it was hard to keep track of in general.
As she glanced up at his face again, Nate absently considered his features. It wasn't to discern his attractiveness level so much as to consider him as a subject for art. His hair was an interesting color, one she'd love to recreate in paint. His jawline had an interesting contour, kind of classically masculine if that was still a thing. He had a dynamic and expressive mouth, and his eyes were nicely spaced. Freckles were fun to draw, and they added a neat layer of depth to the face beyond shading.
Hm, maybe she'd been staring too long. Some people got offended by that, so Nate rubbed her eyes again and returned her gaze forward into the rain.
Jay was sort of offended.
Nate hadn’t exactly been subtle in her staring, easily caught out of the corner of Jay’s eye. As much as he liked being admired by the ladies, it wasn’t the same when they were right there and just looking right at him without a word. He half expected her to reach over and start feeling up his face.
“What? Say something.” He said, just as she looked away. He was giving her the dirty eye, because if she had something to say then speak up and say it, Christ.
Figured. He tried to make nice and pass the time, maybe flirt with this chick and brighten up her afternoon, and he gets one of them weird antisocial types who curled up in on themselves in the middle of town because, hey, why not?
Nate hadn’t exactly been subtle in her staring, easily caught out of the corner of Jay’s eye. As much as he liked being admired by the ladies, it wasn’t the same when they were right there and just looking right at him without a word. He half expected her to reach over and start feeling up his face.
“What? Say something.” He said, just as she looked away. He was giving her the dirty eye, because if she had something to say then speak up and say it, Christ.
Figured. He tried to make nice and pass the time, maybe flirt with this chick and brighten up her afternoon, and he gets one of them weird antisocial types who curled up in on themselves in the middle of town because, hey, why not?
Just as he was getting bored of Nate, Jay's bus pulled up. Without bothering with the politeness of a goodbye, he headed onto it and towards home.
((Jay Harland pregame end))
((Jay Harland pregame end))