"ᴷⁱˢˢ ᵐᵉ, ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏʸ ᵗʷⁱˡⁱᵍʰᵗ,
ˢᵗʳⁱᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᶠˡⁱᵉˢ ᵈᵃⁿᶜᵉ
ˢⁱˡᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵒᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵖᵃʳᵏˡⁱⁿᵍ
ˢᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵐᵉ
ᵂᵉ'ˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡ ᵐᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵐᵃᵖ"
James the sun boy who has had everything in his life come to him, has a helpless...
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Doe tapped on the glass door of the cafe as James ran around putting away and collecting himself for their fist rec on their domestic treasure map.
James was practically skipping through the cafe, giving his mom a kiss on the cheek, looking at himself in the mirror of a kettle.
Searching (quite loudly) in a miscellaneous drawer for something, all while trying to keep conversation with the waiting Doe. "So how do you find the mysterious fountain?"
On Monday and Tuesday Jane had sifted through the filing cabinet of a library dust so thick she had plagued herself with allergies for the entire week, only to come up short.
Wednesday came. I'll-endowed her and Evan, well mostly Jane studied for an upcoming exams.
On Thursday. Ellie and her walked home. Her princess bike had been put in the Rosier's garage and to have the rusted chain that had given out on her the day before causing a scrapes to her delicate knees, changed.
On that walk, through desolate streams and rotting wood bridges Ellie had told her about a skating place him and his friend had found.
An old town square. Covered by vines and willows, Off burnt church rd, Just a cement block with a big fountain in the center.
After that, she had contemplated just riding her bike up to the Alwick herself new chain and all, secretly cursing James all day Friday for his location on that hill.
"Ellie knew where it was." Doe responded looking down playing with the tapered edge of her sun dress as James came forward with a piece of paper he pulled out from the drawer.
"What is that?" She asked, her arm weighted down by her bag pointed to the paper.
"A map." James responded unfolding it and displaying a image of the town in front of her.
"We don't need a- I know where I'm going- Is is that my house circled?"Doe asked, leaning forward to see a Sharpie on circle that looked scarily close to her address.
James quickly pulled back, crumbling up the paper and sliding it behind the bar. "No, we don't need it."
Don't glared at him. Choosing not to take an annoyance in the map but over the out of place curl on his forehead, her hand flexed wanting to reach up and fix it.
"Fine, weirdo," Doe crumbled, kicking off the wall and letting James open the door for her.
James stood in front of Stevie, fishing his keys out of a tight pocket, looking down. "So what roads it off of?"
Doe didn't answer staring at the red car, classic and pretty not made for daily commute but for some background of a high budget film.
She thought about getting in the passenger seat with only James and her, the leather and the mood music he'd surely pick.
A shiver passed through her, and beds of goosebumps decorated her skin despite the midday heat. This felt too much like an event if she let James drive her somewhere.
"We're taking the bikes." Doe said, taking a step back from the car.
James turned quickly. He'd queued up the CD's he'd play on the ride there. On Friday, after practice, he cleaned the car. With a stolen mop, rag and bucket from the supply shed over the right wing of the school, all in preparation for today, which he was mentally considering a date.
He straightened his shoulders, trying to look like the best chauffeur in short time. "I'm a peachy driver."
That did Doe little convincing. With one last glance at the car, she turned around and walked to the style of the building to fetch her ride.
James unlocked his bike, covered in a layer of pollen from the lack of use. He used the inside of his shirt to dust it off. Trying to emulate the sheen of his recently shined Stevie.
The two rode through the town, passing by the movie theater, ducking under the multiple branches grown down to scratch and damage the roof of any car. The town had little maintenance. Often potholes kept them in focused silence. Which Doe liked.
James hated it. He rode behind her. He couldn't see her face. At turns he'd get a glance of her ennuided expression blocked by her ribbon hair.
He tried humming a song to fill the silence. But he heard a breathy sigh infront of him and stoped. He contemplated ways of asking her to the dance and what seems like the most stable one for her temperament.
After two right turns and one left one, Doe spotted a barely spot-able wooden post knocked over. Judging by the green paint peeling off of it, It must have been a marker for grass path to the small cement park. A step over the rose bush you could see the makings or past of a trail.
James finally got a look at her after she turned around, having passed through the rose bush unetched, not a paper cut of a notch on her, Even her dress hadn't caught. Like even nature didn't want to braise the bird.
Doe smirked."Told you we didn't need your perv map."
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