They talked about Asimah or the tee or coughs or something like that. Looking back at the other two, Scarlett tried to figure out what the current topic is, so she might also talk with them, instead of staring in abstraction.
Lunch. Yeah, it was time for lunch soon. But was it directed to her or to Irene? Or both. Scarlett wasn't sure, so she waited for what Irene would say.
Not On Target
Open, if you dare (sorry notsorry for the pun)
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"Holding." Irene half-assumed that Blair had been referring to the shirt, so her knuckles sharpened as she unconsciously clutched at the shirt again. A halfhearted tug of war ensued for the briefest of seconds before Irene realized what Blair had actually meant. Heard it in all it's squishy and disgusting glory as phlegm quickly did a Shurima shuffle one-two step up and back down her friend's throat. Irene winced in sympathy, relinquished the shirt and offered a conciliatory hand touch. Body heat briefly exchanged. "Ouch, sorry! Are you alright?" It was a hasty question with a host of suitably sardonic answers, all of which were probably well-deserved.
Blair seemed to be smiling, at least.
"Lunch? Or something?" Irene imagined the 'something' to be thematically related with video games, as she was wont. "Oh no, I can't actually. I have a thing." Irene paused on that for a moment too long and then redoubled her efforts to be suitably detail-conscientious. "A thing with Cris." That totally didn't sound suspicious in context of the fairly well known puppy dog crush Miss Djezari had on the starting pitcher of the state-renowned Cochise Coyotes. Almost unquestionably some form of platonic 'whip her into shape' sort of affair. Okay no, not the right way to describe it. "Practice time." Maybe that was a bit better. Slightly less exploitable. It probably really wasn't.
"Oh but! But but, the two of you could do the dinner date thing!" Lunch. She'd meant lunch. "Might be fun, huh?" As much as comprehension of the general Moore-McAfee relationship had slipped through her dainty fingers something had to be said for her blithe eagerness. Somewhere deep in that malfunctioning gray matter she really seemed to believe. Had a smile as large as the moon, and about as luminous.
"I'll hang with you guys until I gotta split though. I ain't abandoning my comrades." Not until she was led astray by more ready-to-wears, that was.
Blair seemed to be smiling, at least.
"Lunch? Or something?" Irene imagined the 'something' to be thematically related with video games, as she was wont. "Oh no, I can't actually. I have a thing." Irene paused on that for a moment too long and then redoubled her efforts to be suitably detail-conscientious. "A thing with Cris." That totally didn't sound suspicious in context of the fairly well known puppy dog crush Miss Djezari had on the starting pitcher of the state-renowned Cochise Coyotes. Almost unquestionably some form of platonic 'whip her into shape' sort of affair. Okay no, not the right way to describe it. "Practice time." Maybe that was a bit better. Slightly less exploitable. It probably really wasn't.
"Oh but! But but, the two of you could do the dinner date thing!" Lunch. She'd meant lunch. "Might be fun, huh?" As much as comprehension of the general Moore-McAfee relationship had slipped through her dainty fingers something had to be said for her blithe eagerness. Somewhere deep in that malfunctioning gray matter she really seemed to believe. Had a smile as large as the moon, and about as luminous.
"I'll hang with you guys until I gotta split though. I ain't abandoning my comrades." Not until she was led astray by more ready-to-wears, that was.
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Blair didn't glare at Irene for suggesting she go to lunch with Scarlett of all people, but she wanted to.
"Nah, if you're busy I'll just wrap up my shopping. Thanks for finding this for me. See you later Irene!" Blair smiled sweetly, and walked off towards the register. Hmm, blowing them off was kind of a bitch move, but Blair was a busy girl! Plus, Irene was willing to throw her to the sharks of nerd talk, which required some form of retaliation. It was only fair.
After swiping her debit card and buying her new tee and a couple pairs of shorts she'd picked out beforehand, Blair looked back at the other girls. An odd sense of regret was washing over her. She shouldn't be so mean to her friends. Well, Scarlett was hardly a friend, but she kind of brushed off Irene, which was a bit nasty.
Eh, who cared? It wasn't like Blair would never see the other girl again. Hmm, what should she do for lunch? Panera's was good, but it was so carb-laden. Whatever, a salad would be fine, and maybe some soup. And some pasta. Blair was starved today, and cheating once wouldn't screw her up too bad.
Besides, she thought with a bitter feeling, it wasn't like she had to worry about long-term health issues anyway.
((Blair Moore continued in What a Day))
"Nah, if you're busy I'll just wrap up my shopping. Thanks for finding this for me. See you later Irene!" Blair smiled sweetly, and walked off towards the register. Hmm, blowing them off was kind of a bitch move, but Blair was a busy girl! Plus, Irene was willing to throw her to the sharks of nerd talk, which required some form of retaliation. It was only fair.
After swiping her debit card and buying her new tee and a couple pairs of shorts she'd picked out beforehand, Blair looked back at the other girls. An odd sense of regret was washing over her. She shouldn't be so mean to her friends. Well, Scarlett was hardly a friend, but she kind of brushed off Irene, which was a bit nasty.
Eh, who cared? It wasn't like Blair would never see the other girl again. Hmm, what should she do for lunch? Panera's was good, but it was so carb-laden. Whatever, a salad would be fine, and maybe some soup. And some pasta. Blair was starved today, and cheating once wouldn't screw her up too bad.
Besides, she thought with a bitter feeling, it wasn't like she had to worry about long-term health issues anyway.
((Blair Moore continued in What a Day))
A lunch with Blair would've been interesting, but Blair left. And she didn't even say bye to Scarlett. It's as if Scarlett wasn't here. Oh, well. Blair was busy or something. Still, it was kinda rude.
Once Scarlett got the Magic! song stuck in her head - and that wasn't a good sign as the song was an awful reggae song despite being catchy - she looked at Irene. "Oh, a thing with Cris?" She smiled broadly and raised an eyebrow.
As far as Scarlett knows Irene got a huge crush on him.
Once Scarlett got the Magic! song stuck in her head - and that wasn't a good sign as the song was an awful reggae song despite being catchy - she looked at Irene. "Oh, a thing with Cris?" She smiled broadly and raised an eyebrow.
As far as Scarlett knows Irene got a huge crush on him.
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"I... you're welcome?" There was only the faint suggestion of pleasure in charity, given that it had been completely unintentional. Blair was off, so quickly Irene was hearing a faint Doppler effect from the postmortem of her friend's farewell. "See ya Blair!" She guessed there were places to go, and people to see. Wait, hadn't she been perfectly willing to invite them (her) our to lunch? Bit of an incongruity there, but Irene wasn't predisposed to doing anymore than taking everything at face value. No ulterior motives, no aborting of social situations. Just a busy young woman in her sickly prime. Anyways Irene was already moving on from the brief slight, having flown through the stages of grief in a Planck time. Their encounter was already one for the history books. The thick and musty ones that nobody ever read, that was to say.
"A thing with Cris?" Scarlett was still there, at least. Irene had promised not to abandon her comrades, so she was there until Scarlett also had better places to be. "Yeah, he helps me out with practice for the team all the time. Still too not-coordinated to be trusted on the field and all!" Had to be a more apropos word for 'not-coordinated' out there somewhere. But that did get Irene thinking. "Do you play on any teams? I swear I've seen you out in- on, on the field before." Probably just a case of trigger-happy facial recognition, Irene's mind played that particular trick on her at least once every other day. The number of black-haired busty girls she'd at a distance called 'sis!' in school had to be in the double digits at this point.
"What's with the smile, by the way?"
"A thing with Cris?" Scarlett was still there, at least. Irene had promised not to abandon her comrades, so she was there until Scarlett also had better places to be. "Yeah, he helps me out with practice for the team all the time. Still too not-coordinated to be trusted on the field and all!" Had to be a more apropos word for 'not-coordinated' out there somewhere. But that did get Irene thinking. "Do you play on any teams? I swear I've seen you out in- on, on the field before." Probably just a case of trigger-happy facial recognition, Irene's mind played that particular trick on her at least once every other day. The number of black-haired busty girls she'd at a distance called 'sis!' in school had to be in the double digits at this point.
"What's with the smile, by the way?"
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"Oh, the smile? Nothing." Scarlett stopped grinning and looked around the store. Then back at Irene with the smile gone.
"Ohno. I do not practise on the field. I'm not interested in any sport there."
Scarlett quickly thought about what to say, what to add to the sentence.
"Do you play baseball?"
That seemed likely, considering that Cris played baseball.
"Ohno. I do not practise on the field. I'm not interested in any sport there."
Scarlett quickly thought about what to say, what to add to the sentence.
"Do you play baseball?"
That seemed likely, considering that Cris played baseball.
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"Oh. Okay." Irene dumbly mulled over it another second and then dropped that particular thought. Well, looks like she'd indeed mistaken some other girl for Scarlett. Brunette Caucasian-looking girls were dime a dozen in Kingman. Most of them were actually brunette and Caucasian, even. Hell with a little hair dye Irene probably would be able to fake that very profile herself.
"Yeah, I swore I'd mentioned that last time we were in class?" Hard to remember for sure. While Scarlett was a nice enough girl she was, in the end, just that. Irene liked her, but only to a point. Only so much to be said, a strict quota of small talk to be met per class. "I'm one of the other pitchers on the team." Irene thought on it for a moment, then added as a throwaway point, "I only started this quarter, though. Kind of late to the party I guess, huh?"
"Yeah, I swore I'd mentioned that last time we were in class?" Hard to remember for sure. While Scarlett was a nice enough girl she was, in the end, just that. Irene liked her, but only to a point. Only so much to be said, a strict quota of small talk to be met per class. "I'm one of the other pitchers on the team." Irene thought on it for a moment, then added as a throwaway point, "I only started this quarter, though. Kind of late to the party I guess, huh?"
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"Heh, you can never be too late, I guess." After all, Irene was a junior so she still had time in this school. It was kinda sad that the time in school is slowly coming to an end, but starting a new hobby is never a bad thing. "I might even be able to visit a game you might play some time!"
Scarlett was curious. Irene had a crush on Cris, who played baseball and she also started playing baseball.
"Sooo...this is how you and Cris met, am I right?"
Scarlett was curious. Irene had a crush on Cris, who played baseball and she also started playing baseball.
"Sooo...this is how you and Cris met, am I right?"
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The second half of Scarlett's response had Irene lazily scrambling to cover. "Oh, no no Scarlett you misunderstand-ed me. This actually isn't my first time working with the Coyotes, I had a brief run with the junior varsity way back when I was more Freshman than I am now." Those had been good times, though of course she had bigger and far less activity-intensive fish to fry now.
What Scarlett wasn't hearing anytime soon was that Irene had rejoined the team because of Luz. There were secrets, flutterings and whispers of the fickle chest that a young girl kept hugged dear to her chest, innocent thoughts of a mind yet untainted by the muck of true reality, that-
"I met him before, I just joined when he asked me to. Kinda sorta. Complicated." Let it never be said that Irene was an especially secretive girl. She'd gladly have announced her own SSN from the rooftops of Kingman by megaphone if she had the slightest of ill-advised reasons. "I mean comeon, haven't you ever done anything just because a cute boy-slash-girl-slash-whateveryou'reinto asked you to?"
What Scarlett wasn't hearing anytime soon was that Irene had rejoined the team because of Luz. There were secrets, flutterings and whispers of the fickle chest that a young girl kept hugged dear to her chest, innocent thoughts of a mind yet untainted by the muck of true reality, that-
"I met him before, I just joined when he asked me to. Kinda sorta. Complicated." Let it never be said that Irene was an especially secretive girl. She'd gladly have announced her own SSN from the rooftops of Kingman by megaphone if she had the slightest of ill-advised reasons. "I mean comeon, haven't you ever done anything just because a cute boy-slash-girl-slash-whateveryou'reinto asked you to?"
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So Irene did join for Cris. When thinking of a situation where she did something, because she liked someone, Scarlett couldn't think of one where she'd have joined a club or something like that. Be nice, be helpful, watch something you usually don't like, listening to garbage, because friends like it, yes. But joining a club wouldn't make sense when she has no motivation of doing it. Like, she wouldn't have joined the ballett club for Danny, because honestly. Haha. Scarlett dancing ballett.
On the other hand, some people she liked didn't even know her and live far away from the town of Kingman. Like, Hollywood. And now that she thought about it, she'd definitely join a Hollywood tennis club or something like that to become friends with some celebs and stars. But she didn't think that's what Irene meant. A reason to not reply to the question she cannot answer properly and avoid it by shrugging her shoulders and then asking a counter-question.
"Oh, so you're experienced with baseball already, then. Then nothing can go wrong, right?"
Scarlett swung an imaginary baseball bat through the air.
"I never understood how to actually swing the bat. And how to hit the ball properly. Like, when I hit it, it just doesn't fly the direction it should. Or they just don't fly."
Ah, the troubles of PE Scarlett and baseballs that don't fly. Baseball sure is complicated.
On the other hand, some people she liked didn't even know her and live far away from the town of Kingman. Like, Hollywood. And now that she thought about it, she'd definitely join a Hollywood tennis club or something like that to become friends with some celebs and stars. But she didn't think that's what Irene meant. A reason to not reply to the question she cannot answer properly and avoid it by shrugging her shoulders and then asking a counter-question.
"Oh, so you're experienced with baseball already, then. Then nothing can go wrong, right?"
Scarlett swung an imaginary baseball bat through the air.
"I never understood how to actually swing the bat. And how to hit the ball properly. Like, when I hit it, it just doesn't fly the direction it should. Or they just don't fly."
Ah, the troubles of PE Scarlett and baseballs that don't fly. Baseball sure is complicated.
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A shrug in response. So much for getting insight into that deep quandary from a peer, for all the value her answer may or may not have actually had. Or maybe the shrug was an academically sound answer all it's own? An existential rebellion against the sort of question that had no true answer, but was the berth of a Russian doll's worth of increasingly pretentious self-introspections? The sort that would have left Irene staring in a daze at her favorite paint-drying wall. 'Would you do it if asked?' indeed. What did it say about Irene that she had only returned to a team on the whims of a young man and his spiffy haircut?
Or was she overthinking it all, once more with feeling? She did actually like baseball, after all.
Oh well, on with the actual meat of the conversation.
"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking! Well, things can only go so wrong I guess. I wasn't the most put together player last time, but maybe this time I'll be more put together or whatever. Just gotta work hard, ya know?" Irene theatrically brought her fists together and not-so-elegantly cracked her knuckles. While she did that her eyes were instinctively compelled to follow her friend's miming of a turn at the plate. Oof, that form was sloppy, even by Irene's hardly immaculate or even adequate standards. Irene swore she'd seen this exact lack of proper technique from a dozen plus folk the last time baseball-slash-softball had been the order of the day in PE.
"Oh, yup. Both those things take a bit more than just hurling your arms out at the ball. I'm not the best hitter, which is why I'm not part of the hitters lineup, but I can at least get them flying. Somewhere." That was to say, she was a bit prone to hitting fouls. "Here." Wisdom of a girl who was poor with her own technique passing said technique on aside, Irene was at least willing to step up to the plate. Perhaps too strongly willing. Irene swiveled around Scarlett in a fluid motion and then had both her hands neatly clamped over her friend's shoulders before protest could be raised. "Get a bit lower, brace yourself against your front foot, that's where you're going to pivot from. Don't... uh, move away from the axis-thingy, like..."
Okay this was already falling apart. There was a reason Irene had never followed in her sister's footsteps as a world-class tutor despite having an arguably superior base of knowledge. Flailing at nothing in particular to pull concepts from thin air did not a teacher make.
Or was she overthinking it all, once more with feeling? She did actually like baseball, after all.
Oh well, on with the actual meat of the conversation.
"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking! Well, things can only go so wrong I guess. I wasn't the most put together player last time, but maybe this time I'll be more put together or whatever. Just gotta work hard, ya know?" Irene theatrically brought her fists together and not-so-elegantly cracked her knuckles. While she did that her eyes were instinctively compelled to follow her friend's miming of a turn at the plate. Oof, that form was sloppy, even by Irene's hardly immaculate or even adequate standards. Irene swore she'd seen this exact lack of proper technique from a dozen plus folk the last time baseball-slash-softball had been the order of the day in PE.
"Oh, yup. Both those things take a bit more than just hurling your arms out at the ball. I'm not the best hitter, which is why I'm not part of the hitters lineup, but I can at least get them flying. Somewhere." That was to say, she was a bit prone to hitting fouls. "Here." Wisdom of a girl who was poor with her own technique passing said technique on aside, Irene was at least willing to step up to the plate. Perhaps too strongly willing. Irene swiveled around Scarlett in a fluid motion and then had both her hands neatly clamped over her friend's shoulders before protest could be raised. "Get a bit lower, brace yourself against your front foot, that's where you're going to pivot from. Don't... uh, move away from the axis-thingy, like..."
Okay this was already falling apart. There was a reason Irene had never followed in her sister's footsteps as a world-class tutor despite having an arguably superior base of knowledge. Flailing at nothing in particular to pull concepts from thin air did not a teacher make.
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After Scarlett got lower, she said: "But if I swing now, the ball would fly over the bat, wouldn't it?"
She wasn't sure. But that's what happened most of the time. It either flew over or under the bat. She swung the bat again.
The balance of her whole body was on her front foot. That was something Scarlett could do easily. Scarlett had balance, Scarlett could tap dance. She swung the bat again.
She wasn't sure. But that's what happened most of the time. It either flew over or under the bat. She swung the bat again.
The balance of her whole body was on her front foot. That was something Scarlett could do easily. Scarlett had balance, Scarlett could tap dance. She swung the bat again.
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"No no no, not that low." Might have been helpful if she'd actually given a concrete definition of 'a bit lower'. Aw jeez, was this what teachers and coaches had to go through in their jobs? Maybe she had to start cutting the b-ball coach some more slack. B-ball as in baseball, not basketball.
"Here." Irene lifted her hands from Scarlett's shoulders, up to what she believed was the ideal height for the exercise. "Up to where my hands are, keep your body flexed like how it is now, that's a good power stance." What else? Maybe explain about the actual hitting the ball part? "You'll notice- I think- that you have a range of options to move your arms if you keep the tension off your upper body until the lastest possible second. Like, see, the power comes from your lower body, so keep all the stuff above it loose until you actually swing. Track the..." She needed something to throw at Scarlett. Wait, no. Scarlett didn't actually have a bat. "Uh, never mind."
"Here." Irene lifted her hands from Scarlett's shoulders, up to what she believed was the ideal height for the exercise. "Up to where my hands are, keep your body flexed like how it is now, that's a good power stance." What else? Maybe explain about the actual hitting the ball part? "You'll notice- I think- that you have a range of options to move your arms if you keep the tension off your upper body until the lastest possible second. Like, see, the power comes from your lower body, so keep all the stuff above it loose until you actually swing. Track the..." She needed something to throw at Scarlett. Wait, no. Scarlett didn't actually have a bat. "Uh, never mind."
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Scarlett then stood up again till her shoulders met Irene's hands. It was a silly situation right now, Scarlett realised. Learning baseball techniques in a store.
"Maybe...we can do the baseball thing later."
She looked around the store, hoping no one would see them. Scarlett had no intention of joining a baseball team, although the advice Irene gave would definitely be helpful. But on the other hand, it looked silly.
"Maybe...we can do the baseball thing later."
She looked around the store, hoping no one would see them. Scarlett had no intention of joining a baseball team, although the advice Irene gave would definitely be helpful. But on the other hand, it looked silly.
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Irene sheepishly grinned, for once realizing that what she was doing was rather awkward. Rare that she reached a state of self-awareness this soon. More often she was only in a place to mull on her decisions days after the fact, typically over an especially introspective bowl of cereal. Without any milk.
"Yeah... Just hit me up if you ever wanna try again, you know? I'm always phoneable." Sans the giving of questionable advice Irene continued to develop her own kitschy addendums to Noah Webster's life work. Scarlett was glancing around, maybe worried that someone had borne witness to their folly. Nobody around thankfully, not even that employee Irene had accidentally evil eyed only minutes before. "Hmm..." Irene idly considered the nearest stack of clothes, long settled from her brash charge through it's depths. She was now beginning to remember that she actually hadn't brought money. What she wished she could remember now was why she decided she had wanted to traipse through Kingman's favorite (and essentially only) Target.
"Hmm..." Yes, she did audibly hum to herself twice. Different tones each time. A few more and she could have had herself a cute little Christmas carol. "What were you gonna do for the rest of today, Scarlett?"
"Yeah... Just hit me up if you ever wanna try again, you know? I'm always phoneable." Sans the giving of questionable advice Irene continued to develop her own kitschy addendums to Noah Webster's life work. Scarlett was glancing around, maybe worried that someone had borne witness to their folly. Nobody around thankfully, not even that employee Irene had accidentally evil eyed only minutes before. "Hmm..." Irene idly considered the nearest stack of clothes, long settled from her brash charge through it's depths. She was now beginning to remember that she actually hadn't brought money. What she wished she could remember now was why she decided she had wanted to traipse through Kingman's favorite (and essentially only) Target.
"Hmm..." Yes, she did audibly hum to herself twice. Different tones each time. A few more and she could have had herself a cute little Christmas carol. "What were you gonna do for the rest of today, Scarlett?"
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