Room 234/236 : early Sunday morning
So after a pretty good Prom, over all -- dancing with people still being played out, yay -- and laughing a lot when Alanna and Jack won Prom Queen and King, and cheering for Isabel and Daisy-- Parker was escorted home by Daisy, got a kiss on the cheek, and went to bed.
...Someone tapped her on the shoulder.
Hey.
Hey. Parker smiled at Weiss. Hands tucked in his pockets, Hawaiian shirt a splash of Magic Marker across the watercolor landscape. You're still here.
Babe, I'm always here. Except when you've killed me for calling you 'babe.' He grinned back at her. So, you ready to do this thing?
Remind me, which thing is this thing?
Our usual thing.
Oh, sure. Parker glanced over to the Causeway, and caught sight of her bed parked in the middle of it. You go get started, I'll catch up.
As you wish. Hold onto this for me, will you? He brushed his lips across hers, and Parker took hold of the book he gave her. It was titled Architectural Plans for the Opposite of Panic.
The silver ring on her finger flashed, catching sunlight.
Parker sat down on the white sand to read her book, opening it up to the first page. After a little while, she realized there was an arm around her shoulders, and Weiss looking out across the Bay, not saying anything, or reading over her shoulder, just there....
The wind blew, and the surf purred , and the light slanted over her book, showing her exactly what to build, starting with a place to stand.
When she woke up, Parker remembered seeing one of her teachers in Paris, speaking Russian; a cathedral sketched out in the book, huge and echoing, fragile and beautiful; and the feel of someone's hand in hers.
She picked up her phone squinted at the time, then calculated the time in L. A. She was still debating when it rang. The phone number had a California area code.
"Hi. Isn't it mega-early out there?"
"...No, you didn't, I was just thinking about calling you."
"Heh. Right. Exactly like that. And... it was good. I went with Daisy. Had a pretty good time."
"No, Alanna. Although I was nominated. Oh, and? Jack was King."
"... we're all anticipating bloodshed, yeah."
"So. How's your Mom?"
"....I'm sorry. So sorry."
"...."
"So you'll know what's going to happen by Tuesday?"
"...uh-hunh.... No, I completely get that. I wish I knew what to say."
"A friend, when I was thirteen... No. But, completely different case, Weiss. Nothing to compare."
"It's okay. Seriously."
"......"
"I miss you too. A lot."
"'Mokay."
"...maybe."
"Right, like that's comparable either. Seriously. This was going to happen anyway. The timing just sucks more, that's all."
"Nothing much. Probably go into town for brunch. Exciting."
"...no, it's okay. Go. Tell your mom I said hi. And I hope-- I hope it goes well."
"...love you too. Bye."
[will be linkdrop across the narrative eventually.]
...Someone tapped her on the shoulder.
Hey.
Hey. Parker smiled at Weiss. Hands tucked in his pockets, Hawaiian shirt a splash of Magic Marker across the watercolor landscape. You're still here.
Babe, I'm always here. Except when you've killed me for calling you 'babe.' He grinned back at her. So, you ready to do this thing?
Remind me, which thing is this thing?
Our usual thing.
Oh, sure. Parker glanced over to the Causeway, and caught sight of her bed parked in the middle of it. You go get started, I'll catch up.
As you wish. Hold onto this for me, will you? He brushed his lips across hers, and Parker took hold of the book he gave her. It was titled Architectural Plans for the Opposite of Panic.
The silver ring on her finger flashed, catching sunlight.
Parker sat down on the white sand to read her book, opening it up to the first page. After a little while, she realized there was an arm around her shoulders, and Weiss looking out across the Bay, not saying anything, or reading over her shoulder, just there....
The wind blew, and the surf purred , and the light slanted over her book, showing her exactly what to build, starting with a place to stand.
When she woke up, Parker remembered seeing one of her teachers in Paris, speaking Russian; a cathedral sketched out in the book, huge and echoing, fragile and beautiful; and the feel of someone's hand in hers.
She picked up her phone squinted at the time, then calculated the time in L. A. She was still debating when it rang. The phone number had a California area code.
"Hi. Isn't it mega-early out there?"
"...No, you didn't, I was just thinking about calling you."
"Heh. Right. Exactly like that. And... it was good. I went with Daisy. Had a pretty good time."
"No, Alanna. Although I was nominated. Oh, and? Jack was King."
"... we're all anticipating bloodshed, yeah."
"So. How's your Mom?"
"....I'm sorry. So sorry."
"...."
"So you'll know what's going to happen by Tuesday?"
"...uh-hunh.... No, I completely get that. I wish I knew what to say."
"A friend, when I was thirteen... No. But, completely different case, Weiss. Nothing to compare."
"It's okay. Seriously."
"......"
"I miss you too. A lot."
"'Mokay."
"...maybe."
"Right, like that's comparable either. Seriously. This was going to happen anyway. The timing just sucks more, that's all."
"Nothing much. Probably go into town for brunch. Exciting."
"...no, it's okay. Go. Tell your mom I said hi. And I hope-- I hope it goes well."
"...love you too. Bye."
[will be linkdrop across the narrative eventually.]