there is a pause in time where selene stares straight at a point above jade’s head, like maybe if she stares long enough one of them will disappear. she isn’t sure she cares which one of them it is. there is, for a moment, though, a snippet in her mind of a cartoon jade falling into a comically placed blackhole on the pavement where she stands. she has to bite down on her lips to stifle a laugh. “you’re… strange,” she says, finally, with a certain resolve. she doesn’t want to think about jade’s bruised ass. instead, she shrugs at the suggestion, shakes her head curtly. “no, it’s fine. i can just make some more in my room.” despite her irritability, she’s grateful for the offer. people don’t usually apologize to selene. so, for good measure, she adds, “thanks, though.” whatever part of her demeanor softens at the apology quickly dissipates at the mention of the trap room. or, more specifically, at the mention of a certain person. will’s name kind of makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand upright, and she’s glad that this isn’t noticeable. if it was, she would almost be embarrassed. “yeah. i’m fine. will, uh, took care of me. after the party, i mean. i had a concussion.” her eyes still focus above jade’s head, and not right at her, and the tension she hadn’t realized was built up in her shoulders lessens as she watches a cloud in the sky float above them. “hows your, ah, bruised ass?”
“Thanks,” Jade nods. “I get that a lot.” She’s tongue in cheek, because for some reason, her usual animated self has become replaced with something withered and forlorn, like a favorite stuffed animal stuck in the attic next to dead flowers. She resorts back to age twelve when this happens. In between the chaos comes the valley of guilt, of not wanting to be a bother. Her eyebrows raise at the mention of Will and care in the same sentence that Jade almost scoffs, though she doesn’t because she doesn’t feel like thinking about him for too long. Didn’t know he had it in him, she wants to say. Instead, her brows furrow. “Jesus. Did you go to the clinic at all? Concussions are real serious. That’s why the NFL is a scam, all their football players get their heads knocked and then their brain damage fucks them up. Or maybe they’re like that because they’re men,” she muses, going slightly off topic. “Ha. This bruised ass is... fine. I’m kind of used to hurting myself with skateboarding and fucking around all that. I’m basically indestructible.”