Diner Dinner → Atticus & Daph
Groceries put away in the fridge and freezer and pantry, grandparents assured that she’d be fine—“When will you back?” “I dunno. I’ll be fine, though, don’t worry!” “Well... Okay, Daphne, but you stay out of trouble, alright?” “Of course!”—Daph didn’t bother to change. All she did was brush her hair out a bit and retie her shoes. Popping a stick of bubblegum and knowing that she had plenty of time to kill, Daph decided that she’d kill it with wandering. Bayside at night was a strange, soft thing. It was quiet, and the life within the town was more of a deep hum than the ripples of sound from the daytime.
Hands in her pocket, Daph didn’t watch where she was going and just let herself haphazardly explore. There was pepper spray in her purse, a remnant habit from her city life, but she hadn’t used it since coming to Bayside. One of the many upsides of living there was how low the violent crime rate was. Swallowing her gum (she’d never understood why that bothered people so much), she dug around in the purse for her carton of Lucky Strikes and the matches she used to light them. There was something satisfying about striking a match. Her lighter was small and silver, an “I’m sorry” gift that her mom had given her when Daph left, but she’d preferred matches before then, too.
Cigarette between fingers and lips, smoke swirling up like Disney animations, Daph sat down on a curb, watching a stop light. It was relaxing. Just... Siting. Watching. Smoking. No substantial thoughts or feelings. Next thing she knew, Daph blinked and felt her stomach twist a bit. Checking her phone, Daph saw that she was bordering on late. Laughing, she hopped up and headed towards the place they would be meeting. She was late, but hoped he wouldn’t mind, or at least wouldn’t mind too much. Loping over towards a figure that she assumed was Atticus, she waved and grinned. “Hey! Sorry!”