“Why—whyare you out here?!” Peter demanded, spotting Dash. Finally! When he asked around if anyone’s seen ‘Daniel Parr’ he waspointed to look at, maybe, the track field. Or the rec center (which ishuge-as), and Peter almost flipped. This is Walter Elias, it’s pretty much atown of its own (it’s actually cool, but). “You don’t even look like you’ve runor something.” He pointed out, dumping his equipment bag (he just concludedhockey practice) on the ground and sitting next to Dash. “Not that it matters,but they added tons of vending machines, did you notice?” He babbled, openinghis bag and producing a bottle of Gatorade. “How’s your sched for thissemester? Lightened up the workload or the usual?” He followed, after taking apull. “Drink?” Holding out the bottle to the side, offering it to Dash.
Since he’d first stepped onto the Walter Elias campus for the tour he’d gone on in highschool, there was only one area Dash had deemed worthy of his attention - the track. In fact, it was basically all he was judging the place by - for all he cared, every other building could have been crumbling to pieces, plaster made of literal asbestos, whatever, but so long as the field was good, he would be happy to put the rest behind him. Now he was actually there and able to use it rather than just watching the group that had been racing on the day when they past, he was suddenly furious at himself for being so happy to actually put the whole place behind him the year before - but having finished his fourth lap, sat by the fence with his phone out to finish taking down his times, he was making it his goal to make up for the wasted opportunity. The park was fine, so was the track at the sport centre - but there was something about school tracks that he’d missed. Before he had the chance to pull himself up and get back to it, though, he heard a familiar voice calling out, but it took lifting his head to see Peter walking over to him to realise he himself was the target of the question. “Just testing the ground,” he shrugged simply, putting his phone down next to his bag and shifting over slightly to make room for him. As he started asking about the school, he had to do everything possible to stop his expression shifting, a giveaway that he’d have nothing to compare to. “Oh, did they?” I wouldn’t know, “I’ll keep an eye out - and fine, I guess?” I haven’t looked, “Yeah, it’s… manageable, I think - how’s yours?” When he was offered the Gatorade, his first instinct had been to turn it down, predominantly because he hated it - but then again, he had forgotten to bring along a water bottle, and though he wasn’t anywhere near close to needing a drink then, it was better safe than sorry. “Thanks - I promise I’ll pay you back, remind me.”
