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It Was Just A Drink; Private.
Topic Started: Jun 1 2012, 12:55 AM (1,845 Views)
CondorTalon
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Miriam sighed as she exited the side door of the school building and looked to the sky. It looked like it might just about rain soon, and she didn't bring an umbrella. She might have to walk a bit faster than usual.

Since the school year had only started a few weeks ago, there wasn't really much work to be done. She could afford to just sit at home and read, or draw. She'd been rather inspired, lately, and there were a bunch of ideas floating around in her head that she wanted to put down on paper.

She started through the parking lot, taking the fastest route to get home. Taking out the bottle of iced tea that she had bought from the vending machine, she twisted open the cap and took a sip of the drink.

As she brought the bottle away from her mouth, her foot hit a curb that she hadn't noticed, and in the resulting trip some of the liquid from the bottle had found it's way out and onto a nearby car.

Uh-oh...

Now what? Now what? This wasn't good. What if someone saw that? She had to clean it up before the owner found it like this... but she needed something to clean it up with. She turned around, hoping to get to the bathroom to get some tissues to clean it up with. Hopefully she could clean the mess before someone noticed.

She didn't make it five steps.
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[[Miles Strickland Continued From: The Locker Room. A place of blood, mud, sweat and hijinks. ]]

[[OOC: Sorry for being slow CT. Won't happen again.]]

It was only the beginning of the school year, yet Miles Strickland already felt rather overwhelmed. Unlike other students who didn't have much to do at this time of the year, those working with the newspaper always had articles to complete weekly for the school's paper. It was like a mini project every week. That along with other extra-curricular activities and his continued night-time shifts from his summer job, now turned part-time job at Nordstrom, kept him busy and quite over-worked for the entire week.

He didn't even have the chance to get himself a latte.

Needless to say, Miles wasn't in the best of moods. Without his daily espresso, his behavior and facial expressions were noticeably less chipper than usual. The cold, rainy weather didn't help. It had rained earlier that day and it was annoying to have to navigate around the puddles of dirty water around the school's parking lot. By the looks of things from the shadowy blanket of dark gray clouds above, it looked like it was going to start pouring again, at any time.

Miles curled himself into his dark blue, almost black, Harrington jacket which covered over the alternating monochrome, striped Cashmere sweater he wore beneath. He lifted his hand against his jawline to warm up his face. The light layer or blonde scruff on his jawline did well to keep his face warm, but it wasn't what one would usually see on the prim and proper appearance of Miles Strickland. He usually kept his face clean-shaven and presentable, but he hadn't had a chance to shave for two days. He needed that morning time to properly style his hair and was too tired from the days before to wake up early to shave. Thanks to genetics, as seen by his father Noam's thick beard; scruff tended to develop rather quickly for him.

Thank god it was Friday. Tomorrow he could clean his face up and today he could finally get himself a cup of latte at the nearby coffee house. He could already taste the warm brew, on this gloomy old day. There was no practice today, due to the weather so maybe things were going to pick up for the better after the long, stressful week.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be quite over for him. As soon as he had gotten in range to his brand new Porsche, Miles saw a small girl throwing some sort of light-brown colored liquid onto his windshield. For a second or two, Miles could only stare in disbelief at the girl's actions, before she turned around and saw him with a look of panic in her eyes as she realized she was caught red handed.

Miles stepped forward, hands behind his back, while ignoring the small girl and looking at the sticky liquid trailing down his formerly clean windshield. This car was brand new, a gift from his parents over the summer vacation and now, now it had iced tea on it. Tea! Miles sighed and looked at the girl with a less than sincere smile.

"Oh hey... you." It occurred to Miles that he didn't know the girl's name or at least forgot it.

He knew her, by appearance at least. She was that really quiet girl in his grade, the one who liked to draw. What he knew about her was that she was very shy, so maybe she hadn't meant to do that on purpose after all. Nevertheless, she was still going to clean up her mess.

"Mary, was it? Ha-ha, wow. Looks like you got iced tea all over this new car's windows. I have the feeling the owner would be quite upset if you didn't clean it up."

Miles backed away from the girl with his salty grin and put his key into the driver's side door. He reached in and then walked over to the girl with a towel in hand. She was about more than a foot shorter than him, so he couldn't exactly shove the towel into her chest. His earlier smile disappeared, giving way to a piercing glare from his normally jovial green eyes as he dropped the towel onto her head.

"So clean it up. Now."
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CondorTalon
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Miriam froze as a taller boy walked up, looking straight at her. Had he seen what she had done? Of course he did, he was right there, he couldn't not have. He stepped over to car, taking a close look at the car. Miriam's stomach sank as the events unfolded.

"Oh hey... you."

"U-uhh..." Miriam stammered out. She found herself unable to say anything coherent as he looked at her.

"Mary, was it? Ha-ha, wow. Looks like you got iced tea all over this new car's windows. I have the feeling the owner would be quite upset if you didn't clean it up."

She couldn't even correct him on her name. She just stood, looking at the boy, matching his stiff smile with a shrinking guilt. She watched as the boy walked over to the car door, and took out a towel.

The boy's smile disappeared as he dropped the towel on her head. She let out a short squeak as the towel hit her face. Miriam reluctantly took the towel in her hand.

"So clean it up. Now."

"Y-Y-Yes! S... uhh... I'll c-clean it up right away!" She stammered out, as she bowed in apology.

Unfortunately, Miriam had realized (too late) that in the commotion, she had forgotten to cap the bottle of iced tea. Indeed, she had bowed with such speed that the liquid inside had flung itself out of the bottle and found its way onto the boy's jacket and pants. Miriam could only watch in horror.

She hastily re-capped bottle, shaking her head furiously and squeezing her eyes shut.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!"
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No way. That did not just happen.

As if the Porsche wasn't enough, Mary continued her beverage based assault, by splashing some more of the drink directly onto Miles' trousers and Harrington jacket. He felt at the sticky wet liquid all over the front of his pants, which appeared as if he had just urinated on himself. Great. Now he couldn't go straight to the coffee house or else he'd look like a fool. He'd have to drive home and completely change out thanks to that pleb. Miles stared at her with furrowed eyebrows as she began to apologize repetitively. In response, Miles decided to put on another fake smile and laugh a little, as if it was nothing, before suddenly reacting in a different way.

Instinctively, Miles' arm reached out and smacked the bottle of iced tea from the girl's grasp. The bottle hit the ground and rolled into Miles' shoe.

"Sorry. Let me get that for you."

Miles picked up the bottle and unscrewed the cap as he stood back up. Little by little, Miles splashed the beverage onto the girl, apologizing with a sorry after each splash of iced tea; basically mimicking Mary's own apologies.

After nearly emptying the bottle, Miles twisted the cap back on and handed it back to the girl.

"Here you go."
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MurderWeasel
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It was already a pretty crummy day. It had been rainy and gloomy earlier. It was at the start of the school year. These two things combined to sour Adam's mood even without the efforts of assholes. He just wanted to go home, to sit around and listen to some good music, maybe check out some new wrestling moves on YouTube or something. He was cutting across the parking lot because it was quicker than going around, even though some of the puddles were a bit deep. This was why his socks were damp.

On a normal day, Adam probably would have had his earbuds blasting Led Zeppelin or something, and he might have missed what was going on. He'd managed to get his earbuds caught in his locker over lunch, though, and one of the tiny speakers had been crushed. Trying to listen to tracks recorded in stereo with one side out of commission had proved that half a good song wasn't half as good as a good song's first half. This was also contributing to the awfulness of the day. Without his music, Adam was feeling a little bit on edge. This feeling was greatly exacerbated by the conflict taking place off to the side. He'd thought nothing of the two kids standing by the fancy car at first glance, but something in the way they were talking, the words which he couldn't quite pick out, tipped Adam off that something was going wrong.

He turned just in time to catch Miles dousing the girl with her drink.

Well, shit. That wouldn't do, now would it? Adam wasn't really tight with Miles or anything. He'd never had much of an issue with the boy, though. Looked like that was about to change.

While Adam wasn't really at all in the mood to deal with this sort of thing, he felt even less like walking away and letting one of the school's popular kids get away with blatant harassment. Adam brooked no bullshit from bullies. He fished in his pocket, looking for a cigarette. This would work a lot better with a cigarette. He'd light it, take a few deep breaths, walk over to Miles, loom over him, and blow smoke in his face before telling him to fuck off to finishing school since he'd obviously missed his standard-issue rich kid manners. It would be very badass, a Clint Eastwoord scene.

Unfortunately, Adam did not have a cigarette today. He had left his pack in his locker, carefully hidden in a paper bag because it was still a few months until he turned eighteen and he didn't really feel like getting suspended, no matter how much of a pain school was most of the time. He was shorter than Miles anyways, so the looming would've been a bit tricky, too. Now that he thought of it, wasn't Miles on the football team? He didn't look like some of the other footballers. Adam hoped he was the wimpiest footballer. Gymnastics was rocking for core strength, but not so much for pounding people, as Adam had learned repeatedly in his little backyard adventures. There was a chance this could get really ugly if things went wrong.

No matter. It wasn't cigarettes and height and sports prowess that made a badass. It was all about attitude. Adam was good at attitude. He could hold a stony face just about any day of the week. He put it on now, as he walked towards the two. He was coming up from behind Miles. He took a breath. He told himself to act like Clint Eastwood. He told himself he was Clint Eastwood.

He got there right as Miles handed the bottle back to the now-slightly-soggy-looking girl. He stopped a few paces behind the boy. That would keep the height difference to a minimum.

"That was a dick move, man," he said.

Not quite Eastwood snappy, but close enough for government work.
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Miriam jerked back a bit as the boy reached out and struck the bottle from her hand. It rolled over to his shoe, and he quickly picked it up. Miriam opened her mouth to say something...

But whatever something she was about to say was replaced by a short scream, as Miriam felt the cold liquid soak her clothes. The boy continued to splash the iced tea onto her, mockingly apologizing with every throw.

"N-No, stop..." she mumbled, unable to bring her voice any louder, "p-please..."

She could feel tears wetting the corner of her eyes, as quiet sobs began to escape her lips.

As the soaking ended, he pushed the bottle back into her hands. She held the bottle for a moment, before her shaking hand lost its grip on it.

Miriam wanted to go home. She didn't want this...

"That was a dick move, man."

She wiped her eyes as she looked in the direction of the new voice. Another boy had walked up, standing behind the first boy.

She let out a sob.
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Tears? Oh great, turns out she was crier. Maybe he should have controlled his cranky coffee-less mood a little better, but it was too late now.

There was no enjoyment at all when they just took it and cried. All it did was make him look like a mean-spirited prick to anyone who saw and he really didn't want that. Miles cared quite a bit about his good reputation especially considering his parents held an idealistic view of him and he couldn't afford to get it tarnished, not when he aimed to please. His father in particular expected only good things from him and would not condone behavior like that of any kind. That's why he preferred it when kids would lash back at him as it made him seem like and feel like less of a bully. He had to get the girl to relax and shut up somehow.

"Hey now, take it easy. Don't cry. It was just a drink."

Before either of them could say anything else, a voice not too far in behind him spoke up. Miles already knew who it was. The voice belonged to his greasy haired classmate, Adam Morgan. Adam was definitely a polar opposite to Miles in terms of lifestyles and behavior, what with the unkempt appearance and style, along with his tough guy demeanor. Miles also heard from somewhere, that Adam was one of the ruffians involved in some sort of idiotic back yard wrestling thing, or something like that. That meant he wasn't very sophisticated enough for Miles to really want to interact with on a personal level. Other than that, they had never really had any issues in the past, so Miles could only raise an eyebrow in half surprise and half annoyance about Adam getting himself involved, as if this girl was any of his business.

"Oh hello, Adam." Miles didn't turn around 90 degrees sideways until after he finished greeting the other boy.

"You're absolutely right. That was a... 'dick' move," Miles said as he turned back to the crying girl and looked at the empty bottle. "Sorry about that!"

Miles stuck a hand into his pocket, while leaving Mary and approaching Adam, with a small smile, despite the uncomfortable wetness at the front of his pants. He slowly brought out his wallet and dug for some spare change; a difficult task considering the fact that he primarily used a card rather than direct cash. Fortunately he had a five dollar bill which he had found several days ago, which he put into his wallet and then subsequently forgot about.

"Go buy her a new drink. On me." Miles winked without stopping a step and tossed the five dollar bill at Adam's chest.

"Or better yet: go get yourself a haircut."

Miles didn't turn back again as he continued his casual stroll over to his Porsche.

"Later, love-birds."
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MurderWeasel
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The girl was crying. Adam could see that now, now that he was up close. She sobbed as she looked up at him. Miles greeted him, not even bothering to turn until he was done. He probably thought that made him look real cool. Maybe it would've, if he hadn't reduced a girl to tears. Bullies could never look cool, though. Tough? Yeah, bullies could look tough. Bullies could even be tough, though probably not while wearing a wardrobe as expensive as Miles'. Cool involved more than the ability to take someone apart. You could look cool as you bled out in the gutter, as long as you were doing it for the right reasons and with the right attitude.

Miles apologized. It was really fake. That did not make Adam any happier. In fact, it irritated him a whole lot more. Miles was pretty two-faced. That was becoming very clear. Adam wondered how much of the boy's school persona was entirely faked.

Miles tried to smile as he moved closer, but Adam wasn't buying it. He locked eyes with the boy, keeping his own face neutral. No need to look like a frothing monster. It was control that unnerved jerks. People like Miles, they didn't like it when things didn't go their way.

Miles winked, told Adam to buy the girl a new drink, and tossed a bill at him. It wasn't very aerodynamic, floating only a few feet before fluttering down to land on the wet asphalt. Adam didn't touch it. He didn't even look at it after the first, reflexive glance. He just stared after Miles. The boy's parting shot was weak. Adam tried to come up with a cool retort, but he couldn't think of anything good on the spot.

"Yeah, run off," he said. "Real brave."

That didn't sound very cool. It sounded like he was trying to pick a fight, which wasn't really where he felt like taking this. He'd had enough issues with the school about that kind of thing.
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Miriam continued to wipe her eyes as the first guy turned to face the other. There was a bit of talking between the two before the splashing boy turned and apologized to her. Of course, the apology didn't sound sincere, and Miriam didn't say anything back. She simply stood as the splasher left them behind.

Soon it was just her and the second boy.

"U-Um..." she said. She shrunk back a bit as she said it.

"Th-Thank... you..."
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Miles stopped mid-step next to the front side door of his Porsche after hearing Adam's little comment. He pondered the words for a few seconds, before looking down at the wet asphalt with a chuckle. He decided to pay no credence to that with a verbal response of his own as he opened the car door and settled inside.

From within, Miles became well aware of the wet, stickiness on his clothing once more, feeling himself getting mildly annoyed all over again as he shrugged off his wet Harrington Jacket. However, Miles wasn't about to remove his pants until he arrived home. For a minute or so, he looked at himself in the rear-view mirror and shuddered at his unrecognizable and disheveled appearance. Miles took the time to gussy up and fix his hair, before smiling back at his reflection and turning on his ignition.



The Porsche slowly; almost methodically, pulled out from the parking space. Miles gazed out through his tinted windows and watched as the two other teens, who happened to still be standing where he'd left them were now having a conversation. Adam no doubt thought he was a tough guy by getting him to leave and having the last word.

As soon as the car was in line with the drivable space; Miles floored the gas pedal, sending his car charging through a particularly large puddle of water located nearby. The wheels of the car, in combination with the momentum of the drive sent a large spray of murky rainwater in Adam's direction.

He had done it purely out of spite to the other boy's cockiness, but soon found himself radiating with satisfied laughter as he U-turned and drifted left to the other side of a row of parking spaces across from where he had parked earlier. Miles slowed the speed of his drive down a notch to observe the results of his shenanigans and ever so slowly, rolled down his tinted window. Miles took in the sight of his drenched classmate, with a large grin and wide open eyes. He finished up with a jeering salute.

With a push of a button, the window shut close. The Porsche pulled out of the school parking lot and onto the road, just as the first signs of drizzle began to descend.

[[Miles Strickland Continued Elsewhere...]]
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MurderWeasel
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The girl thanked Adam. She sounded pretty traumatized. He hoped this wouldn't mess her up for life. This was the sort of thing he could imagine coming up at high school reunions, making everyone feel awkward and guilty. He wondered if experiences like this could be quantified in therapy bills.

Now that he was paying a little more attention, he realized he knew the girl's name. He thought maybe he'd been in class with Miriam at some point or other, but he couldn't remember anything about her. Presumably, that was because she was pretty quiet and meek. Adam didn't have anything against quiet kids, but he rarely had much in common with them either. Well, whatever. Right now, it looked like they had in common some serious distaste for a certain jerk.

"Hey, no problem," Adam said. "I mean, you can't just walk by if someone's being a total asshole, right?"

Well, actually, lots of people probably could. That was why people like Miles existed. It was a lot easier to be horrible to people when safe in the knowledge that nobody would step up to stop things. Adam felt that apathy to how others were treated was one of the worst things about high school. No, maybe it was more than just high school. Maybe it was one of society's largest problems.

Adam's musing was interrupted as someone gunned their car's engine and zoomed past, kicking up one monster of a splash. It caught Adam full on, spattering him with slightly muddy water. He didn't even need to look to know who was responsible.

As the car slowed down and Miles rolled down his window, Adam raised his right hand and flipped the boy off. He kept his face nice and blank. No need for anything more. He wished there was some way to get to Miles, some way to give the boy a harder time, but since there wasn't he wasn't about to give the jackass any more satisfaction.

Miles gave a sarcastic salute, rolled up his window, and zipped away. Adam took two deep breaths. No need to go off over this. No need to make Miriam's day worse by shouting out profanities or something. Clint Eastwood wouldn't lose his cool. Instead, Adam forced himself to chuckle. Laughing often brought genuine mirth in its wake.

"Ah well," he said. "I needed a shower anyways."
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((Sorry for the wait.))

"Hey, no problem, I mean, you can't just walk by if someone's being a total asshole, right?"

"Y-Yeah..." she replied.

Now that the whole thing had blown over, Miriam could afford to calm down again. She was still soaked with iced tea, of course, but maybe the day wouldn't end as bad as she thought it would.

There was a bit of a silence. She was about to say something, like a goodbye, but she was interrupted by a car engine noise.

She shrieked as a car drove past, kicking up a puddle of water, onto Adam and her. It looked like Adam had gotten most of it, however. She could only watch, shoulders shrunk in, as the driver rolled down the window. It was him.

She brought her left hand to her mouth. Her nails tasted of iced tea.

As soon as the car left, Adam took a few deep breaths.

"Ah well, I needed a shower anyways."

Of course, whether or not Adam had tried to ease the tension, Miriam was already bowing in apology.

"I'm suh... I'm sorry!"

It was her fault.
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The whole thing seemed like it'd traumatized Miriam. She'd gotten splashed a bit too, and now she was apologizing to Adam, acting like she had something to feel guilty about. That didn't sit so well with him. After all, she'd been apologizing to Miles, too, and Adam didn't want to feel like Miles, not for any reason. It was a struggle to stay cool here. It was probably for the best that Miles had left. Adam really didn't need to get busted for being involved in any fights.

"Hey," he said, trying to make his voice kind and encouraging. He was a little out of practice. His sisters didn't need much comforting these days. Still, it was pretty easy to slip back into the mode of interaction he'd used with them when they were all younger, "don't worry about it. It's not your fault. I mean, you're not the asshole who decided we needed to get soaked."

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, adjusting it a little bit, moving it back into place. Good thing his jacket was waterproofed. Really, this wasn't anything to worry about. He lived in Seattle. Getting a bit wet wouldn't make him melt. He fantasized for the briefest moment about splashing Miles and getting a nice Wizard of Oz reaction out of him, but didn't let himself get carried away. He was, after all, still talking with Miriam.

"You can't take responsibility for anyone else, you know? I mean, I know I make enough mistakes for myself. I'd never stop apologizing if I worried about all the stuff everyone else does."
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