ON SOME NIGHTS, when she didn’t want to go home, shelly stayed at work to ‘ ensure everything was in working order. ‘ code word for being antsy and fucking about. it wasn’t completely unheard of, she had the keys to the gate and she did clean up if she thought of it ( which wasn’t often ) so she thought she was justified as long as this didn’t end in a crime scene. and did she sometimes let her friends hang out, too ? yeah. sue her. she’s actually cleaning tonight, running the net through the pool when she hears a familiar voice. her head tilts up, squinting to see through the darkness. ‘ hey, loser, ‘ she replies, affectionately, her face stretching into a smile. ‘ are you bribing me, maxfield ? ‘ she asks, faux offended, eyeing him then the bag. as if on cue, her stomach rumbles and she drops the shtick, reaching out and making a grabbing gesture for the bag through the fence, then goes to unlock it. ‘ ugh, i’m so fucking hungry, i haven’t gotten dinner yet, gimme, ‘ she muses, as she lets him in. ‘ don’t skinny dip. don’t run. and if you crack your head open, i am not cleaning that up. ‘
“no, no. i’m just telling you what the chicken said.” calvin says, features feigning innocence with doe eyes that flickered despite their darkness. he lets the bag turnover into her hands with much argument before slipping behind the fence to join her. “did you lose your manners when you got that whistle? you’re welcome.” manners were hardly something he valued, rarely did he ever say please or thank you. but rather did he want her to say it out of his own selfishness. “what if i’m packing on a beer gut? it’s not skinny dipping technically. it’s like.. mid-sized dunking.” the man makes his way over to the pool’s ledge and begins to kick off his nonslip shoes. aching feet dip themselves into the water that is surprisingly warm. “either this water is freshly pissed in or it’s heated, either way i don’t mind a bit.”