Realistic or Modern wrong side of the tracks (raina & jo)

[jay.rain]

[✦] sure it's a calming notion, perpetual in motion​

"You're never gonna fucking believe this," Kaja announced and dropped into an empty spot beside his favorite delinquent Cash at the uncomfortable university food court table. He tossed an arm over his friend's shoulders reflexively, as casual as any other step in his 'getting comfy in a new spot' routine. However, as a consequence, when he leaned forward excitedly into the center of the table, Cash was dragged with him. Kaja bared his teeth at his friends in something that was presumably a smile, but contained too much malice for anyone to be certain. "The Prince almost hit me with his Lexus. No, shut up--" he shot a silencing glare at Roxanne, who was sitting directly across from him and still had her mouth open from where she'd definitely been about to tell him that he was full of shit. "I'm so pissed none of you were there. You should've seen me. Seriously, here he is, just ripping into the parking lot and drives straight into the spot I'm already parked in. He was two goddamn inches from the back wheel of my bike. I was like--" He jumped to his feet, finally relinquishing Cash from his death grip.

Shoulders thrown back and chin raised, he almost made for a regal sight, if not for the dusty leather jacket and heavy cowboy-style motorcycle boots. "Here, pretend this is the hood of his brand new fuckin' LC convertible." He slammed one mud-flecked boot down onto an unoccupied section of the table's surface, finally beginning to earn wary stares from the rest of the crowded university food court. "I was like 'you and your toy poodle almost hit my fucking bike!' because obviously his girl was in the passenger and she kinda has poodle energy, right? Anyway, I'm like 'you almost fucking hit me, too! But no, honestly, it's whatever, man. I wouldn't have minded! Honest! It's just that, if you'da hit me, you'd have to wash my dirty kai'mukw blood off this beautiful car." 'Kai'mukw' was a word Kaja used fairly often, the antonym being 'muma'tla'. As far as definitions go, he told people 'kai'mukw' literally meant 'person' in his mother tongue and 'mumatla' meant 'outsider'. But, in practice, the definitions were more like 'Indigenous person' and 'White person'. "I mean, fuck, dude, which member of the help would you even get to do that for you? You clearly wouldn't be the one picking up the pressure washer. Maybe the maid? By the way, can you say hi to my mom for me?"

Kaja grinned at his adoring public, most of his friends having devolved into laughter at that point. He let his head tip back, eyes darting over to the nearby table he knew the Prince and his friends were sitting at. As if he would've put this kind of show on if they hadn't been watching. His drawl, already too loud, got even louder. "Yeah, I know you've already heard this story, guys. My bad. Hey, Prince, did I get about all the details right?" Kaja came up with this rather predictable pet name for the man after one day the previous year in which the campus had been crawling with privately-hired bodyguards because the Prince's family had received a series of alarming kidnapping threats. At least the snob had had the decency to look embarrassed that entire day.

Now, Kaja met that steely blue glare with all the bravado offered by his friend's raucous, emboldening hysterics. Once it was clear the Prince wasn't going to oppose the way this embellished story had him portrayed, Kaja dropped back into his seat, floating on the afterglow of so much attention. Ever the reliable one, Roxanne didn't seem quite ready to let the cathartic scene end just yet. She leaned forward, eyes dancing with deviousness in an impressive imitation of Kaja. "Speaking of Prince, I heard his girl's a beard."

Kaja took the bait gleefully, preening. "Bullshit. If that guy was gay, he would've gone for me by now."

Roxanne's cheeks puffed with her scoff, hand coming off the table surface to flap at Kaja dismissively. "You? Kaj, please. The closest someone like you will ever get to Achilles Carnegie is maybe mowing his lawn."

Kaja relented with a sorrowful shrug, but that evil gleam in his eye seemed far from dying. He leaned back and tossed his hands up in theatrical surrender. "If anyone at this table could tap that, it'd be me. But listen, I'll gladly be proven wrong here. If any dude at this table can get between the Prince's legs, I'll give him my bike. The whole bike."

demonology

but i don't need the comfort of any lies
​

 

[demonology]

[✦] you're so groovy [✦]​

The weight of Kaja's arm was like a weighted blanket, holding him to the earth even while Kaja attempted to defy logic with his storytelling. Cash listened, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, trying not to let his best friend see. While Cash adored his antics, he didn't want to fuel the engines more than they already were. Still, even he couldn't resist a laugh at the poodle joke. He covered his mouth, looking over to Roxanne, who shot him a gleaming look right back. As always, everyone at the table was beginning to be sucked into Kaja's vortex, swirling around in his image and comedic timing. Truthfully, Cash adored this aspect about him, in spite of everyone's sneer-eyed gazes. Fuck 'em, is what he thought, though his conviction was far less than Kaja's.

Snapping his head over toward The Prince's table, he listened in awe as Kaja's voice boomed through the university cafeteria. If there were two divided kingdoms, and often it felt like there was, his best friend was the king and he was his loyal knight. He looked Mikhail Numeroff, one of the gaggle of priceless little doves that followed Carnegie everywhere, dead in the eye. He squinted, then turned his lips upwards into a smirk. For added effect, he stuck a toothpick in his mouth, biting down on it hard, all the while keeping contact with the young man. Eventually, Mike looked away, rolling his eyes and seemingly unaffected. He turned and looked towards his own ruler, and Cash watched his lips move, likely in gossip about him. It appeared that his comment was rolled off, ignored by The Prince. His ambivalence got both Kaja to sit down and Cash to study his lunch tray. Every interaction with them, however brief, always seemed to remind him that until coming to university, he didn't have three meals-a-day. He didn't buy snacks from 7-11 because he needed to; he now bought them because he wanted a Slurpee, and oh! wouldn't you know, there's Slim Jims. Guess I'll buy some of those!

One of the things he hated most about this dynamic, this everlasting war for dominance between the two groups, was that he forgot he was Valedictorian. Yes, a Valedictorian with an attitude problem. A Valedictorian who wore liberty spikes instead of his cap. Still, a Valedictorian just like The Prince had been. Or he assumed. Perhaps none of them had to be smart to get the magical keys to the kingdom. They just had to line the pockets of the Board instead.

Blinking rapidly, he brought himself back to reality. Kaja's words stuck out to him, bringing up a mischievous grin. 'Oh shut up, you could never lay him!" Settling into his joke, he continued, sitting up a little higher and jutting his chin out. "I, on the other hand, have princely looks," Cash stuck the tops of his hands under his chin, posing like Shirley Temple. He batted his eyelashes for further affect. "Laying Achilles Carnegie would be easier than riding a fuckin' bike," he finished, accentuating the swear by taking the toothpick out of his mouth. "And, he'd probably ask me to do it again. It's not like any of his folk are the type to actually loosen up. It'd be the first time he ever met someone with actual fuckin' passion."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw The Prince. It was a brief look, but it reminded him that he wasn't a gremlin or a terrifying orc. By conventional means, he was pretty. Gorgeous, even, if you were a girl who liked that sort of chauvinistic, egotistical look. He snapped back to his friends, smiling devilishly. Theoretically, it wouldn't be impossible, and that made the joke all the more funny, devious even.

i want you to know!
​

 

[jay.rain]

[✦] sure it's a calming notion, perpetual in motion​

Kaja was pleasantly surprised to watch Cash be the one to throw his hat into the ring. Sure, it made some sort of sense in terms of sheer beauty; he was high on the attractiveness ladder within their friend group. A rung below Kaja himself, of course, but certainly up there. But Kaja had always thought Cash lacked the energy to sabotage a family like the Carnegies in such spectacular fashion. Which was fair; it took a lot of energy to be this hateful. On the other hand, maybe he was just intervening to deescalate, trying to avoid a scenario where Kaja was going around sleeping with rich people for the money of their poor friends. Cash was sweet like that.

Kaja laughed as his friend made his case and shook his head in disbelief . "I actually can't wait to watch you try."

"But there's gotta be a time limit," Roxanne chimed in helpfully.

"Right, yes! I think we give him until the end of the year."

"And there's gotta be proof."

"Yeah, proof--" Kaja recoiled. "Wait. Like a trophy? Nah, that's sick--"

"Well how will we know if he's telling the truth! Um, it can be photos or something..."

"Christ, how the fuck does he get those? 'Hey Achilles, smile, this is going in my fuckin' scrapbook'?"

"Moron. It's gotta be something-- Oh, wait, shut up."

Achilles and his curly-haired girlfriend, as pale a blond as he, passed their table on their way out of the building, chatting quietly. So unaware of the plot and his own impending demise. Kaja couldn't have felt sympathy for the Prince if he tried. The couple had barely stepped foot out the door before Kaja was slapping Cash hard on the thigh. "You should go talk to him now. You could apologize for my bad behavior! Go be a pick-me for once in your goddamn life."

Achilles spent that morning racking his brain, trying to figure out what the hell he did to deserve such hatred from that guy in the parking lot earlier. Even as he listened to the boisterous retelling, his friends' well-meaning outrage was way too distracting for him to ponder anything helpful. He spent those few minutes busy, saying all the right things to prevent a further scene. But it was Mike's comment that pushed him over the edge, 'something something be careful, I heard Kaja was involved in an arson case once, we all know he's dangerous'. He'd just barely been able to make a flat noise of acknowledgement, trying to squash the inexplicable wave of irritation. That was a favour that would never be returned, since Achilles was pretty sure he had a better chance of walking to the sun than being defended by one of Kaja's friends. As soon as the food court had levelled back out to its average volume, Achilles collected Beth and got the hell out of there.

He was just... confused. It had been an honest mistake. That guy's motorcycle had been totally concealed by the cars parked beside it. He'd apologized right after he'd laid into his break. And then suddenly that raven had his boot planted on the center of his hood. Sneering at him like they'd had problems before. Like that wasn't the first time they'd ever really spoken, period. He didn't even know his name. Or he hadn't at the time. After the fact, Beth had shakily informed him that that had been Kaja and that 'Kaja's probably the most dangerous one out of that group, 'Chilles, he's seriously unhinged'.

"They just cause problems. That's like, what they do." Beth's latest gentle comment pulled him from his thoughts, what had to be the umpteenth gentle comment since the incident. Achilles gave her a close-lipped smile and a reassuring nod, entirely unconvinced.

but i don't need the comfort of any lies
​

 

[demonology]

[✦] you're so groovy [✦]​

At Kaja's taunt, Cash laughed, mostly breathing hard through his nose. It was certainly an absurd idea, one to the point of gut-splitting laughter. It appeared that Luci was losing her mind, covering her mouth in order to keep her giggles inside. She eyed Achilles, though her laugh made it hard to determine whether it was to get a better image of him and Cash together or out of fear. As one of the newest recruits to the scholarship kids, she was also the most trapped by her status. A freshman. Even Cash, who tried his best to keep his head down and use the fear around him to manufacture a suit of gossip-free armor, looked at her with equal parts worry and mild, sympathetic disdain. She still dressed in slacks and cardigans, and she mostly belonged with the bunch due to her scholarship status. They didn't discriminate, and of course, they had scooped her up like a lost cat. Slowly, Luci was learning the lay of the land and finding her own place in it, carved in the shape she decided. Cash hoped she'd see the beauty in joining a gaggle of outcasts. A family, so to speak.

With Kaja's seriousness beginning to dawn on him, he seriously doubted she would. He listened to Kaja and Roxanne, eyes darting between the pair. They couldn't be that serious, he feared. His eyebrows were darting towards his hairline. Then, his gaze was on Achilles Carnegie and his perky, albeit not-so-friendly (at least to him), girlfriend as they walked. Finally, they landed, widened, on his best friend's hand, which was getting-him-up like some sort of prized race horse. What in the world has he gotten himself into?

"Oh.. uh.. what?" His face folded into a fuzzy shape, parts confused with other parts. Before he could come up with something quippy to get him out of talking, Alejo was pulling him up from the chair he sat in. He looked over at Luci, and even she appeared to be cheering him on, giving him a thumbs up and a shaky, mischievous smile. "Alright, alright," Cash mumbled, more shocked than grumpy. He shrugged off Alejo's hands, shooting him a look that only inspired more laughter from him. Luci made a shuffling hand-motion, seemingly emboldened by the situation.

Popping the collar of his defaced blazer, he counted the number of black cowboy-boot-claps on the linoleum. One, two, three... He got to fourteen when he finally caught up with The Prince and his Knights of the Gold-Plated Table. Cash walked up just in time to hear the tail end of His Highness's girlfriend's words. That's like, what they do. Eyes narrowed, and his fingers reached out to lightly grab at Achilles's shoulder.

"Actually, what we do is apologize for our friend's outlandish behavior." His Texan accent slipped, on just as he stepped ahead of the lovebirds. When put to the right intentions, Cash could flip the switch faster than the light could turn itself on. It was one of the few natural inclinations that worked towards his favor. To boot, he added a sneer towards Beth, who he knew didn't deserve as much wrath. However, even he couldn't deny the way her comment, though out of context, pricked at and stabbed into a protective membrane he held around his affection for his friends.

"Kaja's not normally... well, no, he is normally like that." Cash smiled sheepishly, making eye-contact with the young man. "You can't blame him too much, though. You did almost hit his bike. Even you would lose a gasket if someone almost hit, I dunno, your mom? Still," he swallowed, though not too hard as to be noticeable, "his reaction was a bit... out of proportion."

The blatant way he threw his own best friend under the bus hurt more than the fact that he spoke so diplomatically. He preferred silence as a way of intimidation, not wit the way Kaja did. Tackling a conversation with someone he normally glared at was unique, to say the least. Worst of all, he betrayed, to some degree, his true feelings. Political diplomacy or not, he opted towards honeyed honesty. Cash smirked, trying turn himself in a likeable golden boy. It was a surprisingly easy mask to pull from the archives of his mind. "Plus, he's too damn stubborn to say it himself. So," He straightened, attempting to look self-assured. "I'm here!"

He put out a hand with a set of rings on each finger. "I'm Cash, and I'm sorry if my best bud embarrassed you." His tongue felt foreign, peppered with a sweetness he didn't normally fake or put on with intention to impress. It was like a job interview, only ten times worse because he had subjected himself to it.

i want you to know!
​

 

[jay.rain]

[✦] forgiving who you are for what you stand to gain​

Beth startled like she had been the one who got grabbed. Her fingers dug into Achilles' arm where they had been peacefully resting moments before and she hissed out a quick curse. Once she realized what had happened and what this punk-looking guy had heard, a fresh flush of embarrassment blanketed her cheeks. Achilles, on the other end of the spectrum, barely seemed to respond to the touch at all. He didn't even look over his shoulder when it happened, only slowing to a measured stop when the newcomer entered his direct line of vision.

When Kaja's friend began to speak, Achilles quickly realized his assumptions about the coming conversation were entirely wrong. He wasn't able to temper his reaction fast enough and it was clear he was surprised, his eyebrows creeping upwards and his lips parting in question. He recovered his balance in the next few seconds, but re-schooling his expression wasn't so easy. Beth's nervousness was nearly a tangible weight at his side and, by extension, it was making it hard to focus on the rather generous gesture at hand. What was also distracting was the sheer amount of activity going on throughout the guy's outfit, now that he was close enough to really see. Achilles found his eyes wandering, absently reading all the visible lettering. He'd certainly seen this guy around before, but had always associated him exclusively with Kaja's group as a collective. This was the first time he was able to really look at him. Cash. Huh.

He could feel the interested stares of passersby, especially those that were also coming out from the cafeteria. He supposed they thought a fight was about to go down. Achilles wasn't exactly opposed to the idea; hell, it might even serve to relieve some of the pressure between the two groups if Achilles got the opportunity to knock one of them on their ass. But no, this one, Cash, was apologizing, quite sincerely at that. As Achilles' eyes dropped to survey the extended hand, he leaned closer to Beth. "Go on without me."

Her shaky nod was clearly reluctant. She gave Achilles' arm a final squeeze, shot Cash an apologetic grimace of a smile, and continued down the path. Achilles was relieved that she didn't ask him if he wanted her to get their friends. Freshly unencumbered, he settled his gaze back onto Cash. For some reason, he found himself suddenly annoyed that there wasn't as much of a height difference as he had expected. In fact, he might have even been slightly shorter than Cash. They would've had to stand closer together to know for sure. But then again, Cash was also wearing boots and Achilles wasn't.

Before he could begin to wonder why it mattered to him in the first place, Achilles finally reached out and clasped his hand. "Well, I don't really see why you're apologizing. If anyone should apologize, then it should be your friend." He paused, the residual tension visibly draining from his shoulders. He shoved both hands into his pants pockets. "Or me." His eyes fixated on some apparently very interesting piece of brick wall over Cash's shoulder as an ashamed flare of colour began climbing his neck. "I did almost hit him with my car. I obviously didn't mean to. And then he acted like I really did like kill his mom or something."

A flicker of a smile quirked at the corner of his mouth as he forced himself to look at Cash again, laughing a bit despite his very clear confusion about the whole thing. "But anyway, thanks for talking to me about it." He trailed off into a stilted silence. Tone still awkward when he finally couldn't resist asking: "Do your friends know you're talking to me?"

just know that if you hide, it doesnt go away
​

 

[demonology]

[✦] you're so groovy [✦]​

Achilles's gaze razed over his clothing, and Cash used his free hand to shift his blazer. He brought the text and hand-made drawings into closer view. He couldn't help but show off, especially since he and his friends had crafted the outfit together. Cash enjoyed using his clothing as a mode of translating his personality, his self, into a visual medium that, like said personality, was very in-your-face. At least, the personality people close to him knew. The veneer he wore in public was also supported by his outlandish taste in clothing, but in a different sense. It was more like he was wearing a costume, less like he was wearing a second-skin. It appeared he wouldn't have to work hard to get The Prince on the hook, he thought playfully, though facetiously. The thought brought a small smirk to his lips, though it faded quickly when he heard Achilles speak.

With Achilles's lap dog finally walking away, Cash almost regretted calling her anything but her name in his head. It was apparent that she didn't want anyone to hear her chatter about his friends, and in a way, he felt hypocritical for shaming her for something they did, too. Except, their judgement of The Prince and his cronies felt justified, righteous even. Still, Cash had to acknowledge that they probably felt the same way. He returned her smile with just a hint of his own. At least he could appreciate a healthy amount of humbleness when presented to him.

Once the two were alone, Cash took a moment to finally study Achilles in return. He seemed preppy, richie-rich enough. Truthfully, he met all of Cash's expectations, considering he spent the past semester or two staring at him from across the courtyard, the cafeteria, a lecture hall. There were few places, besides his dorm room or his friends' secret smoke spot, where Achilles Carnegie wasn't a constant. A planet that everyone, even his friends, appeared to revolve around. Maybe that was giving the young man too much credit, but Cash was always one for hyperbole. Not to mention, it made him feel better.

When he finally shook Cash's hand, Cash couldn't help but grin like he had just shaken the hand of the Devil. In a way, given Kaja's dare, he had. Rotate the page, and now he was shaking the Devil's hand because Cash was a scholarship kid who enjoys pissing people like him off. Flip the page, and Achilles wasn't shaking the Devil's hand at all. In fact, he might have just made a new friend. It depended on who you asked.

What made Cash smile wider was the second slice of humble pie he managed to see served amongst people who he felt shoved the shit down his throat. Achilles Carnegie was apologizing? If it had been a different moment in another dimension, he would've made fun of the fellow student for this fact. They weren't friends, though, so he refrained. It was his final comment that soured the pastry he was serving.

"In his defense, it costs more to fix broken bones than to fix his bike, and both are pretty pricey," Cash interrupted, though gracefully and without malice. He couldn't help but still defend his family, even when it might cause more trouble.

Achilles's laugh tickled his skin, and he laughed awkwardly back. It was rare that Cash attempted an actual conversation with anyone besides his chosen loved-ones, and it was obvious that the dynamic at hand was a bit unsettling to both of them. At least, he thought, we are bonded through mutual distaste for each other. The silence dragged on, but Cash enjoyed stumbled pauses. For a moment, he felt equals with Achilles, primarily because quiet could be his greatest asset. For example, he was boring into Achilles with his gaze right now, drilling a hole into his left cheekbone.

Then, he asked about Cash's friends, and his averted look started to give way to the truth. "Uhm. I mean, yeah? They weren't happy about it, but it's time they put up with some of my bullshit." The lie slipped, easier than the first. Rather, it wasn't as much of a lie, more so an embellishment. He didn't intend on transforming this conversation into some sort of fiery rendezvous like how Kaja, Roxanne, Luci, and Alejo had envisioned. Cash scratched at the curly-q at the back of his neck before putting his hands on his hips, standing with his chest open. "Are your friends gonna come beat my ass for talking to me?" he joked, not thinking that things could really come to that. Sure, it'd been close before, there'd been a few tussles, but no one had tried to fuck with Cash. He preferred to keep it that way. For that reason, his laughter was short-lived.

i want you to know!
​

 

[jay.rain]

/* ------ right side ------ */

/* ------ image 1 ------ */

mood | fucking embarassed.

location | the quad.

/* ------ image 2 ------ */

outfit | see last image.

/* ------ image 3 ------ */

tag | demonology

/* ------ left side ------ */

achilles carnegie

/* ------ main textbox ------ */

From an early age, Achilles had always been hyper-aware of judgement. He was familiar with it and considered it nothing less than an absolute and a constant. He was always judging people and they were always judging him in return. On one hand, that point of view had made for a particularly turbulent and angry childhood. On the other hand, it had made his high school years a breeze. He became skilled with people and image; good at being judged exactly how he wanted to be judged. And, now two years in, Achilles was finding university to be shockingly like high school. So, when Cash returned to look at him after Beth had made her awkward leave, Achilles instantly recognized the expression that came over the other’s face.

Beth’s absence had put Cash somewhat at ease. At least to the extent that he now felt comfortable with letting his eyes roam over Achilles’ smart, conservative outfit; a pair of slacks and a tucked-in, button-down shirt that was looser at the waist and tighter at the arms. By the openly bored expression scrawled across Cash’s face, Achilles was safely meeting every pre-conceived expectation, a notion that both satisfied Achilles and deeply bothered him.

The words ‘I obviously would have paid his medical bills’ leapt to the front of his mind, and almost reached his tongue. Luckily, a streak of strange social fear warded them off, though he wasn’t quite sure why that sentiment suddenly seemed like such a bad idea to say. But, in any case, his gut was usually correct, so he kept quiet. Speaking of his gut, aside from protecting him from saying dumb things, it was simultaneously giving him a particularly bright green light about Cash. And again, the reasons why were mostly a mystery to Achilles. But again, he listened.

He let the relaxed smile rest on his features like it wanted to. Shoulders gently slumped back and head on a tilt. He was the picture of ease, taking Cash’s less-than-smooth reaction to his question as only natural, given the rivalry between their groups, the possibility of guilt the last thing from Achilles’ mind.

His smile grew at the joke, responsive. “No, I think you’ll be okay.” He didn’t mention that was because he probably wouldn’t be telling any of them. “I totally get what you’re saying though. I do a lot of watching and listening with my friends, too. I feel pretty entitled to inconveniencing them at this point. Not that us talking would be like, an actual inconvenience to anyone… Anyway, correct me if I’m wrong, I feel like I’m the one who should worry about getting jumped.”

He meant it as a playful jab back, a smooth recovery from the uncharacteristic weirdness, but instead dread filled his stomach when he realized how that must have sounded; how that could have been taken as an insanely on-the-nose shot at where Kaja was from, the proverbial elephant that was the real source of tension between their groups. And he knew wearing the regret on his face would make it so much worse, but that fact in and of itself made it impossible to control his expression. “Because your friend didn’t do anything,” he explained, “I’m the one who--… Like, almost hit him with my car?” As the correction dragged on, he marveled at how the interaction could have taken such a 180, marvelling further at how it was entirely his own fault.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[demonology]

mood :

curious; mischevious

location :

the quad

outfit :

mentions :

jay.rain

interactions :

Achilles Carnegie

MacAmbrais

-- cash

Cash stood with his hands stuffed into his pockets, rummaging around in the lint. He picked at one piece, rolling it between this forefinger and thumb, forming a ball. His eye brow ascended as Achilles struggled through his words. I'm the one who should worry about getting jumped.

The Prince couldn't commit to his bias. Admittedly, Cash found it bemusing. At least Kaja had bite to his bark.
"You know," he spoke with a surprising amount of level. His tone was steady, only lilting slightly to indicate a sense of humor. "You would seem less like you're callin' us a pack of rabid, trigger-happy dogs in the form of scholarship kids if you didn't try so hard to cover it up."

He leaned forward, invading Achilles's space ever so slightly, with the end of his sentence, adding a flourish. "But at least you understand why we would 'jump you'," he added air quotes. "If we so chose," Cash added with a smirk.

Standing up straight, he removed his hands from his pockets, rimrod backing once more. As straight as a book spine. He eyed the boy across from. A flare of confidence shook through him. "Though, if you wanted to make it up to us, you could buy a pack of beer and stop by my dorm tonight. We're playing high-stakes Go-Fish."

Which simply meant that Roxy would bring her bong, Kaja would bring the Goldfish, Cash would set up the small foldable table he'd stolen from his Grandpa's garage back home, and they'd annoy the fuck out of his roommate who spent so much time in the library or his boyfriend's dorm to complain that much. Usually they played. Scooby Doo in the background as they played. And, if Achilles agreed to come, there would be an extra chair set up just for him.

Kaja would probably put a whoopee cushion on it or Roxy would kick him under the table. But Cash would be one step closer to the end goal. Plus, free beer.

"Whaddya say?" he peaked through his curls to the pseudo-noble's eyes. "Might keep us from fighting as much," he offered, considering an olive branch.

coded by reveriee.