deadfricnd·:
The way Cecelia continued to show interest in her despite Juliette’s constant negativity towards the other girl would annoy her and most people under different circumstances. Sometimes, when she wasn’t busy dwelling on how her life was ruined, a conversation with Cecelia felt almost comforting. It was something consistent, she supposed. “I bet you say that to every girl.” Juliette smiles briefly. “Funny. That was actually pretty funny.” She had enough self awareness to know she had a critical demeanor. It was the result of years of getting whatever she wanted for most of her life. “Skater girl, horse girl, what next? Since my standards are dropping so rapidly.” Admittedly the idea of any of any of her old upper East sider friends coming across this scene would be less than ideal for her. “Is that all it takes? My gratitude? I’ll keep that in mind next time you’re especially getting on my nerves.”
Juliette nearly stops in her tracks, wide eyed for a moment at the idea of being taken to a literal dumpster, but is quick to recover after Cecelia’s laugh. “Let’s just say I’m a curious person. Also, I don’t like surprises.” Not untrue, it frustrated her endlessly to not know the outcome of something. There was perhaps some more judgement on her part as well as she doubted they had similar definitions of what a was anyway. “Trust me.” She scoffs. “If I had a nickel.” Juliette mutters before her full attention is back on her date. She wouldn’t admit it out lout but she didn’t mind the attention. “I know.” Giving Cecelia a once over, she keeps walking, eventually ending up a few paces ahead of her. “You don’t clean up too bad yourself.”
“I noticed.” Her eyes light up in amusement instead of being charmed. Manhattan girls always projected that they were just so above it all, but Cecelia knows the truth. Juliette’s type ended up in Crown Heights by way of mediocre dick or boredom with their designer drugs. They needed surprises and excitement, and that’s where Cecelia usually came in. She gave them the full Crown Heights treatment, including dipping without a break-up text. Cecelia might’ve been pestered by unfamiliar feelings but she could recite this movie from beginning to end. “Liar. You like some surprises. Like me,” Sliding forward on her board, Cecelia gives the pavement a little kick to scoot closer. “Like our date — that’s two strikes, Blondie.” She knows that she’s pushing it, but she can’t help herself. “Yeah, you heard me. I’d give you a nickel if I had one on me. It’ll be so good you won’t know what to do with yourself.”
“I know,” she parrots in a mocking tone, although she really means it. Cecelia’s effort paid off and she looked like a snack. “Part of me hoped you’d hate it so I’d have an excuse to take it off. Too bad.” Cecelia shrugs. She reachs into her back pocket and dug out a bag of Skittles. Wrinkled from motion but, hey, they say it’s what’s on the inside that counts. She rips the bag open with her teeth, blows away the stray plastic, and pours a few Skittles directly into her mouth. Kicking herself forward, she catches up with Juliette, admiring the sunlight caught in her hair before speaking again. “Have some,” she says around a mouthful, waving the bag at Juliette to put in her palm. Drinks and a snack — Cecelia was a catch. The two made it to the end of the block and Cecelia maneuvers her board to the left, veering towards the park a few blocks away.















