Veronica was riding on someone’s shoulders.
She couldn’t remember whose, and she wasn’t sure if she had climbed up there willingly or had been picked up as some kind of joke. She vaguely remembered complaining that she couldn't see. Maybe she had been trying to be cute. She did enjoy positive attention. Otherwise, It was absolutely unnecessary to be riding on someone’s shoulders when she could just as easily make herself feather-light and float upwards above the crowd. She could lounge as easily as being suspended in water, and watch the concert adrift on the chilly breeze.
Perhaps, she had already tried that, and that’s why strong arms wrapped around her thighs, left bare by the cut of her shorts, were keeping her pinned to someone. Maybe they were worried she would float away like a neglected balloon. Veronica titled her head back to laugh upwards at the star-dotted sky, and nearly tipped off her perch, but someone steadied her with a hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her back into an upright position.
“You alright there, champ?” they asked, and she recognized the voice as belonging to Max. Her would-be chaperone (as far as Solarflare was concerned) on this particular adventure.
Nodding, she pushed damp green locks away from her forehead, before taking another swig of a warm beer. If Max was behind her, who was chauffeuring her around? She looked down, curling hair sprouted atop a head in a haphazard mess, the color of which she couldn’t make out in the darkness.
“Who is this?” she asked, trying to yell over the noise, her free hand pat the curls gently. At least she tried to be gentle. The way he tilted his head away from her hand, suggested that she was not succeeding.
“Carter.”
She didn’t know who answered. She hummed in feigned understanding, nodding thoughtfully. Someone laughed, maybe at her. Veronica didn’t care.
The crowd was cheering, so Veronica was cheering. Arms lifting above her head as she whooped and hollered with everyone else. A swift breeze chilled the exposed skin at the small of her back and she wondered if she’d brought her bomber jacket. Maybe she’d left it in the car?
Feet tied up in her worn combat boots kicked against the broad chest of her mount. “I want down,” she whined, almost petulant like a child. He who was potentially called Carter, dropped down to one knee and she green-haired woman dismounted with some difficulty.
“Thanks,” Veronica lilted, lifting a hand to pat maybe-Carter on the chest. She tried for gently.
Max leaned closer to her, sweat and body spray mingled around her nose and she frowned. Lips near her ear asked where she was going. He pulled back to frown down at her, but she was already turning on her heel and wandering away, feeling as if she knew the general direction of the car. A pack of cigarettes appeared from somewhere within her shirt, she pulled one out and lit it with a lighter that had been stuffed inside the box.
“The car,” she explained, blowing minty smoke, maybe to Max who she assumed was following her, or maybe to no one since it was possible she had lost him somewhere in the crowd.
“I just want my jacket.”
She couldn’t remember whose, and she wasn’t sure if she had climbed up there willingly or had been picked up as some kind of joke. She vaguely remembered complaining that she couldn't see. Maybe she had been trying to be cute. She did enjoy positive attention. Otherwise, It was absolutely unnecessary to be riding on someone’s shoulders when she could just as easily make herself feather-light and float upwards above the crowd. She could lounge as easily as being suspended in water, and watch the concert adrift on the chilly breeze.
Perhaps, she had already tried that, and that’s why strong arms wrapped around her thighs, left bare by the cut of her shorts, were keeping her pinned to someone. Maybe they were worried she would float away like a neglected balloon. Veronica titled her head back to laugh upwards at the star-dotted sky, and nearly tipped off her perch, but someone steadied her with a hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her back into an upright position.
“You alright there, champ?” they asked, and she recognized the voice as belonging to Max. Her would-be chaperone (as far as Solarflare was concerned) on this particular adventure.
Nodding, she pushed damp green locks away from her forehead, before taking another swig of a warm beer. If Max was behind her, who was chauffeuring her around? She looked down, curling hair sprouted atop a head in a haphazard mess, the color of which she couldn’t make out in the darkness.
“Who is this?” she asked, trying to yell over the noise, her free hand pat the curls gently. At least she tried to be gentle. The way he tilted his head away from her hand, suggested that she was not succeeding.
“Carter.”
She didn’t know who answered. She hummed in feigned understanding, nodding thoughtfully. Someone laughed, maybe at her. Veronica didn’t care.
The crowd was cheering, so Veronica was cheering. Arms lifting above her head as she whooped and hollered with everyone else. A swift breeze chilled the exposed skin at the small of her back and she wondered if she’d brought her bomber jacket. Maybe she’d left it in the car?
Feet tied up in her worn combat boots kicked against the broad chest of her mount. “I want down,” she whined, almost petulant like a child. He who was potentially called Carter, dropped down to one knee and she green-haired woman dismounted with some difficulty.
“Thanks,” Veronica lilted, lifting a hand to pat maybe-Carter on the chest. She tried for gently.
Max leaned closer to her, sweat and body spray mingled around her nose and she frowned. Lips near her ear asked where she was going. He pulled back to frown down at her, but she was already turning on her heel and wandering away, feeling as if she knew the general direction of the car. A pack of cigarettes appeared from somewhere within her shirt, she pulled one out and lit it with a lighter that had been stuffed inside the box.
“The car,” she explained, blowing minty smoke, maybe to Max who she assumed was following her, or maybe to no one since it was possible she had lost him somewhere in the crowd.
“I just want my jacket.”
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
The following 2 users Like megs's post: SolitareLee, Tindome
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After School Special [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-02-2017, 05:58 AM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-02-2017, 06:00 AM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by megs - 04-02-2017, 03:04 PM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-02-2017, 06:20 PM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by megs - 04-02-2017, 06:59 PM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-03-2017, 06:19 PM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by megs - 04-04-2017, 03:07 PM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-04-2017, 10:45 PM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by megs - 04-06-2017, 10:15 AM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-07-2017, 04:32 AM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by megs - 04-09-2017, 12:01 PM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-12-2017, 02:46 AM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by megs - 05-22-2017, 10:17 AM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by Tindome - 02-05-2019, 05:47 PM
RE: After School Special [Closed] - by megs - 11-17-2019, 02:43 PM