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It's Saturday morning, early, but not too early.  Sammy wakes up, eats one of the still warm pastries her dad brought home from his earlier excursion to the local bakery, then thinks it might be fun to hang out with Alicia, maybe go to the mall or something.  She makes her way over to Alicia's home and knocks on the door.  Mrs. Vega answers.

"Hi, is Alicia home?"
"No, honey, I'm sorry!  She's studying with Laney."
"Studying? Alicia?  On a Saturday?"
"I know!  My little scholar!  I'm so proud of her!  She and Laney have been studying together almost every day this week!"
"Really? Oh.  OK."  Sammy turns to leave, not sure what else to say.
"Should I tell her you came by?  She can call you later.  Or you can call her cell?"
"No, its okay.  Its nothing important."

Feeling sorry for herself, Sammy goes home, puts on her flying outfit, spins a Twister spinner that has been relabeled with compass point directions, turns on the gps and goes.  "South-southeast it is."

With her knees hooked over the edge of the bed and her hair splayed out, a black pillow beneath where she lays on her back on the floor, Laney stares up at her companion’s profile from below.   Alicia looms over the small room, perched on the dresser like a gargoyle with telltale signs of wear as visible to Laney as if the girl were truly carved of stone, sunken and weathered by time.

Laney’s own concentration is suffering, too.  “We should be doing this at Jack’s.   I think his kitchen would be fine.   Then the breaks would be more productive.  And longer.  What do old people do on Saturdays?  I should ask him.”

For someone who obsessively tries to maintain order in her own environment, Laney contributed more than her share to the chaotic collage of paper and books blanketing the stained carpet.   After some searching, squirming, and paper cuts, she rescues her open cell phone from between two books, surprised to see what the random abuse of buttons summoned on the glowing screen.

“Nothing I wear is sexy, is it?  Would she go with us?”

OOC: Reality check. Where are Laney and Alicia? Laney's room?


Alicia replies without taking her eyes off the quiz paper she's reviewing, "Dunno. He probably spends the day helping old ladies cross the street, or something like that."


It takes a second for Alicia to catch what Laney said.

"Huh? Who?"

Affirmative.  If you need a description, I can drag up a link.  Call me lazy.   ::)



Laney holds up her phone upside down, trying to offer it to Alicia.

"A waitress maybe.  She's sexy, don't you think?"

No need. I do read the other threads. ;)


With the reluctance of someone being handed a lit stick of dynamite, Alicia stretches her arm out to snag the offered phone.

She eyes it (does she recognize the number?) then tentatively speaks into it, "Uh, hello?"

((I love you, man.  *sobs*))


Yes, one of them must have struck the Send button by accident in the exchange.  The phone is dialing.  The number is Sammy's.

Alicia looks at the phone in confusion and then at Laney, silently mouthing What the f**k?

Laney responds with her witty, "Huh?"

She rolls over and detangles her limbs to sit upright (It looks a bit like a flipped turtle righting itself).   "To buy something sexy.  Or to Jack's.  Ooooo, do you two spar?  I would love to see that!  May I?  Is she airborne when you do?" 

(OOC: Sammy hasn't been going to Jack's lately, and she has never sparred with Alicia except to stop her from slashing Sylvia.  And the phone is still ringing.)

Alicia is gazing at the phone with a frown and answers distractedly, "Sammy and I? No, we've never sparred. Heck, for that matter, I haven't even seen her over at Jack's that much." Or at all.

"Lane? I think I need to look into something. Can I take a rain check for today?"

"It must be nice.  Having that kind of confidence. Yeah, that's alright, Alicia.  I'm a little distracted today.  I have a little research I've been putting off, anyway.  Perfect and beautiful."

"Uh, right."

Alicia collects her stuff and instinctively heads for the window. "Tell your mo... uh, Jean thanks for the hospitality. See ya on Monday."


She slips open the sash and slithers through the gap.

Sammy looks down at the caller ID.  "I can't deal with that now," she groans.  But if all I can say is that I'm flying around alone not doing much of anything... aack.  She speed dials Donnie and hopes he's awake.

Alicia does try to call Sammy on her own phone as she makes her way back home.

Does she get a busy signal and have to leave a message?

Sammy leaves a message - "Call me?" and answers the beep.  "Hullo?" is her cautious greeting.

"Yo, Sam-a-Wham. It's me, Alicia. What're you up to?"

Her voice has the breathless quality that tells Sammy Alicia's rooftop running.

"About a couple hundred feet," Sammy replies.  "You're running.  I thought you were supposed to be studying.  Is something wrong?"

In a dead serious tone, Alicia asks, "You're flying. Do you have your bag?"

Irritated, Sammy replies "You don't have to be annoying about it.  Gawd!"

Alicia is unrelenting."But you do have it, right?" She makes a point of inserting concern in her voice.

Sammy snips back, "What are you gonna do about it if I don't?  Put me in time out?  Is this important?  I'm waiting for another phone call."

There is silence in the line for exactly ten seconds. Alicia takes a deep breath. "Fine. You're obviously too busy to talk. When you find the time, you know how to get in touch with me."

Click.

Sammy gasps in outrage.  A small tornado appears out of nowhere, crosses a road and cuts a furrow in a field, then dissipates.  "Fine!" she yells to no one in particular.

Alicia sits on the tar roof of a dilapidated rowhouse, her back against the HVAC unit, her head hanging low.

Sometimes it sucks being her.