did you rat me out? ⠀ @amalgi for dallas winston
dear diary, ⠀i can’t seem to get a read on this guy. i don’t think he trusts me. i don’t particularly blame him. i’m not sure i trust myself either.
they meet eyes for the first time across the small, rundown gas station. veronica looks for a long time. longer than is socially acceptable. she attempts to distract herself by bringing the slushee she’s drinking to her lips, breaking the monotony. the red dye from the artificial cherry flavoring coats the inside of her mouth as she keeps staring. eventually, her straw reaches the bottom of the cup, and brings her back to reality. she goes to refill her drink before checking out, too distracted to speak to the cashier.
as she’s leaving she glances over at him one more time, though he’s no longer looking at her. he’s entirely focused on something else. she lingers near the door, trying to figure out what he’s doing, but before she’s able, he catches her eye again and she not-very-casually makes her way out the door — into the muggy nighttime air.
outside, it smells of wet asphalt and secondhand smoke and veronica sits on the edge of the sidewalk, a cigarette between her fingers and her cherry slushee sat on the concrete beside her. her head turns when she hears the door chime as he’s being thrown out by the gas station attendant. again, she lets curiosity win, looking for a moment too long, trying to decipher what had happened.
“ no. i barely spoke to the guy. he gave me my change and i came out here. ” the truth, her plea of innocence declared as she puts out her cigarette on the asphalt, ash building up beneath it. “ besides, i wasn’t paying attention to you. ” and there’s the lie! even now, she can’t look away from him. she stands up, wiping the gravel off of her skirt. “ well. hope you have a good night. ”
