“The latter.” She puts the telescope in the back, trying not to set it on top of anything that looks fragile, and stretches until her back crackles. Deliberately, she walks around to the front of the Jeep and peers at the headlights, poking at them with a fingertip. “Why, what do you know? These /are/ actually headlights! That’s /amazing/. I never would have believed,” and she starts giggling, catching a glimpse of his face and swinging herself into the passenger seat. “Find a place in the Preserve that’s up high and not overhanging with trees. Was that English? I’m not sure that was English.”
Stiles is remarkably still as Summer climbs into the passenger seat, blinking at her with a blank expression as she does. After a moment, he gives a little nod and leans forward to turn the Jeep over and throw it into gear. “You should probably leave the sarcasm to professionals.”
That being said, he pulls away from the curb the moment that Summer has strapped herself in. He gives her a little of a slantwise look, eyebrows lifting. “Seemed like English to me. Not sure how doable it is, there’s trees everywhere, but — we can probably manage. Do you lose control of English often?”
“I just think so fast the words come out sideways, I want to get them all out before I lose them or someone talks over me. Plus,” she gestures with one hand, “I kind of think in concepts, so getting the words around what I’m seeing is hard. I kind of wish I was a telepath, it would be so much easier.” She settles back in the seat, watching the world slide by outside the window. The last time she’d been occupied with Helios, but this time she could pay attention to Stiles, to his driving and car and all. It smelled … like Stiles, actually; a little like the outdoors and mostly faintly like his aftershave.