LOL WATCH ME GET NONE, MOTHERFUCKERS.
Hmm…confession…confession… I’m actually pretty ticklish. Gotta count for something, since it seems like a dangerous confession, given the current seating arrangement.
*covers her face with her hands and chuckles* Cheater. I ought to punish you for that, but my will is weak. *slithers off to sit beside him, tracing fingertips over his shirt*
*wrinkles his nose and pokes her forehead* I’m bad at giving advice. And most of my experience isn’t really applicable to anyone outside the Born in the Upper Echelons of Society crowd.
Ah, bah, excuses. *firmly* I love you, because you’re you. And that’s that.
“Well that’s interestingly precise!” Reaching behind herself, Summer extracted her keys from the strap of her purse, and beckoned. “Let’s go. You set the gps while I get us out into traffic.” She let him to a little targa-topped burgundy car, popping both doors. “And on the way, you can tell me a little more about yourself.”
“Alright, Miss Summer,” he nodded, climbing into the passenger seat only after Summer had already slid in. “I can’t thank you enough for this, really. You didn’t have to. I mean it was very- Is this a touch screen, or no?” he inquired, suddenly sidetracked by the GPS he was unable to work. “I’m lousy with these things. I don’t even keep a cell phone…”
“Tap with your fingernail,” she instructed. “How in the world do you manage without a cell phone? I don’t even keep a landline anymore!” She paused a moment after starting the car to wind her hair up in a fist-sized bun and stick a couple clips in it. “Time for aggressive driving.”
“I-er-” he mumbled distractedly, navigating his way through the screens to the input. His tongue stuck slightly out of the corner of his mouth as he focused on working the device. “I don’t get along well with tech. Raised without it. And I’ve got no one to call, anyhow. Ah!” he exclaimed, pointing to the screen, pleased. “I’ve got it in! Thank you again, so much. I feel rather stupid, now. It says here it’s only five minutes away.”
Summer glanced at the gps to get the next turn, then stepped on it. Expertly snaking through a gap, she asked, “What’s this all about? Odd time for an appointment, really. School thing?”
Ah…I’m not sure I actually know /how/ to answer.
If you ever come up with one, be sure to let me know. In the meantime, don’t worry your fuzzy little head about it. I’m more interested in why you think you’re so unlovable.