the (not) date (carla)

[SAMUEL ROY HAWTHORNE]

Cleaning himself up wasn’t easy, but he’d promised to meet Carla at the Afterlife Café, and that’s what he planned to do no matter what. It wasn’t that he particularly knew the girl well, but she was the only friend he had for the moment who knew he was homeless and didn’t hate him for it. Most people assumed by his cleanliness that he was well off, but he was actually quite homeless. Only having the moment to not sleep in the park or on a street corner if he gained enough tips during the afternoons. It was a sad life, but until something better came along for him, it was all he had to live on. So, at the bathroom of a small general store outside of town, he was found washing his hair in the sink, clothes drying on a string he’d tied up, and body completely cleaned already. It wouldn’t be long before someone came to see what was taking him so long, so he planned to be done within the hour. It took him less than half an hour to finish up, conveniently returning the key when the store clerk’s back was turned. It was how he worked.

Making his way back into town wasn’t fun, but the walk was, as he always told himself, good for him. Not that he was fat, but during his work days he didn’t do much besides sit around playing or sleeping. So, walking the distance from one of his many outpost shops to bath in to town was about the only exercise he got regularly. So, finally, when he came upon the café, he wasn’t surprised by the odd looks he got by the people. His hair was still wet, clothes damp, and he probably looked very tired. It was around three miles to walk, but of course, he was almost used to it. Ordering a water to start with, he sat there patiently waiting, as Carla wasn’t supposed to meet him there for another hour. He’d come much too quickly, but that was how he liked it. Early people usually got to see what the late could only wish for.

Once he’d drank a glass of water, the waitress looked at him funny until he gave in and told her he was waiting for a friend. She left him be after that, but he really didn’t mind her presence. It was nice to know he wasn’t invisible all the time, and he half wanted her to stop for a moment to talk to him. Sam often found himself wanting to scream at people who just passed him by like he wasn’t there about how he was there, not a ghost, but then he may be seen as crazy after that. With a sigh, Sam just sat there patiently staring off into space as he waited for Carla, his friend of four months, to make her grand appearance.

[CARLA KATIE CROSS]

Grabbing her sweater, Carla looked around the small empty back room of her work. Boxes and metal, pieces of clothing all over the place in some messed up organized way. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and slipped into her sweater. She hated it back her, but she was happy to finally be getting off. Today had been a very busy day for once and in truth she did just want to go home and watch a movie with Znader or something like that. Only for once in her life she had plans to meet someone. Sam, a guy she met about four months ago when picking up coffee. He had been outside that café playing his guitar and in truth he was pretty good, so she tipped him. Somehow it ended with them talking for a little and making plans to meet again.

Carla was nerves at first with hanging out with a guy, but as time went on she learned that he was as evil and bad as she thought. To Carla this wasn’t a date, she didn’t think that it was that to Sam. . . she hoped it wasn’t since she was gay and all. That could case a problem. Shaking off that though she pushed open the back door of the shop and looked out into the bright sunny afternoon. Bring her hand up to protect her eyes from the sun, she pushed the other hand into her pocket to feel for her keys but touched her cell phone. This mad her think of Znader her older brother who really just thought she was working late today. In truth she had yet to tell Znader about her homeless friend.

Walking out, the door closing soundlessly behind her, Carla began making her way towards her rusty looking car. It was nothing great, but the great car Znader always had and would never let her drive. He had been meaning to do something about the car, but had never got around to it. Sighing she shook her head pulling out her keys as she came up to the car. Pushing the key into the lock she unlocked the car and slipped in. Getting herself comfortable she turned on the car and started to pull out and make her way towards the café.

As she drove she wondered. . . why hadn’t she told her brother? Was it because he was so protective and would want to meet the boy? Or was it because for once in her life, she was taking care of herself on her own. She was nineteen after all and yet she was still a child in her brother’s eyes. Sighing, as she came up to a stop light a few blocks away from the café she drummed her fingers on the wheel as she looked around and up into the sky. White clouds dance around in the sky-painter’s clouds.

~~~

She finally got there, and was parked. Locking the car she walked quickly towards the café no liking being out in the open. It made her feel uneasy. . . but then again a lot of things did that to her. Slipping into the café with a small ring of the door bell she looked around with her deep brown eyes, well pushing her matching deep brown hair out of her eyes. She couldn’t help but smile to herself a little. It was just a little tug of the corners, but she was smiling at the sight of her new friend.

Walking over, she passed a few people and a waitress, who gave her an odd look. “Hey Sam.” She started off with a small smile well slipping into her seat. Turning around in her chair she let her bag hand off the back of the chair, it was so long that it almost touched the ground. Only that passed her by quickly as she looked back at Sam and smiled again. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I got out as soon as I could. Wh-“ She heisted a little seeing his damp clothing. “Where you waiting –ah. . . long?” She finally spit out showing the worry in her eyes about what she was seeing.

[SAMUEL ROY HAWTHORNE]

The walk to town didn’t seem near as hard or time consuming as the walk there, but then on the way back he has somewhere to be. Somewhere he wanted to be, and this prospect made the walk towards it much more enjoyable. Thus he easily found himself whistling a small tune as he walked, but as he made his way down the street, he found himself with the desire to play a song that had been forming in his mind all day. Taking a seat not a block away from the entrance to the restaurant, Sam pulled out his guitar, which hung from its strap around his body, and he began to play. First he just checked his guitar over, making sure it was in tune, then he started to play. The turn started off simple, like some of his other ones, but then it changed a bit. It became almost like a person, ever changing, every evolving, and by the end of it, it was like the person had grown into themselves. In his mind, he pictured his new friend Carla.

Carla was a beautiful young woman, one who’d faced something trying once, but still beautiful regardless. It was obvious to Sam that she was not into men as straight women were, and he felt sad for this because he at first had envisioned them becoming close. He let it go, however, Carla was her own person, and he loved her for this. Sam loved Carla for being herself, but also wished to protect her from the entire world as he was at it. He could understand it if she had an overprotective father, mother, and or older sibling. It would only be natural because of how innocent she often seemed. Which explained to him why this song spoke to him. The song that had formed in his mind was like Carla had rubbed off in his music, and he couldn’t help smiling as he put his things away.

Once at his table within the café, Sam had that hardest time dealing with all the looks he was getting. Yes, everyone should realize he knew he was damp, and no, he didn’t need anyone to offer him help. There was something about a homeless person that made everyone want to pity him, but that so far from what he wanted that he could just hit them. It was sad, and all it did was make Sam feel bad about himself. Like he was worth the same cold shoulder everyone gave normal poor people, but he kept this opinion to himself. No point in losing his cool over some silly, coffee-addicted people who were getting on his nerves by simply looking at him.

Looking up with a hopeful look, Sam was very glad to see Carla walk into the café. She indeed looked adorable, and he had the sudden urge to hug her. It was like those moments when he’d walked through the pound, seeing all those adorable puppies, but not having the money for them. He’d wanted to hug them all. Waving to her, half wildly, he grinned from ear to ear at her. It was very easy to see that he was happy to see her, but as to why, that was a mystery.

Her greeting made his smile calm, but he couldn’t help tipping his head at her as he’d done the day they’d met. Remembering how she’d mentioned that it made him look like a puppy, which made him want to laugh. “Hey, Carla,” he returned her greeting, but his playful smile and tip of his head remained for the moment. When she began speaking, he straightened, but he was very curious when she began to stutter. Looking down, finally noting that she’d realized his clothes were damp, he pouted. “I haven’t been here long, just about half an hour.” he said solemnly, but pouted further as he noted her worried look. “I didn’t have the money to dry my clothes, does that bother you?” he asked as his head tipped once more, but he didn’t have the focus to wonder if he looked like a puppy once more.

[CARLA KATIE CROSS]

Half an hour. Was it true or was it a lie? She couldn’t tell, all she knew was that he was sitting in a puddle, so looking to the side she looked at the waitress catching her eye and waving her over before turning back to Sam. The way he was looking at her, it was like he didn’t want her to be bothered by this. Maybe. . . just maybe she would bring him home and maybe get him so extra clothing. He was going to get sick like this. Biting her lower lip she gave him a weak yet worried smile. “I little.” She lied. It bothered her a lot. Yet her eyes or her voice did not betray her and let him know that. Carla had gotten very good at lying, even to her brother who could read her like a book.

She could hear the waitress moving closer, yet she still had time to really take in Sam. She really had to fight off the frown. He looked a little rough, maybe she could let him sleep at her place tonight. Only that could cause a problem. Znader would throw a fit if he was home. Well that was out of the question, but at least she could get him something good to eat, and something dry to wear. . . and maybe a bed to sleep in tonight. “Ready to order?” Looking away from Sam she gave that fake smile, but threw her narrow happy looking eyes she could see the look the waitress what giving her. It was something along the lines of why the hell are you with a homeless bum?

“Yup, I’ll take a tea, with, ah. . .” She looked over that the menu. “A blueberry muffin, please. Sam your getting something.” She said finally looking back at Sam. The look she gave him was a look a mother would give a child. She was not asking him if he wanted something, she was telling him he was getting something to eat. This was something Carla would have never done for anyone, more less for a male. But for Sam. . . there was something about him that made her feel it was her job to help him out the best she could. After all most of Carla’s money she made went towards extra stuff anyways. Why not put it towards something good?

occ; sorry it's kinda on the smaller side

[SAMUEL ROY HAWTHORNE]

She didn’t seem to sure of his honesty when he said that he’d only been waiting half an hour, but really that was all the time he’d been inside the café. Watching in curiosity, he wasn’t too surprised when she waved over the waitress and at the same time was kind of confused. Did she not feel safe alone with him? Not that they were really alone, but still. That weak smile she offered him was enough to make him feel any better, and she said it didn’t bother her much, though he doubted that. It wasn’t her, but it was the fact that everyone he’d met so far had a problem when he wasn’t completely well taken care of. He was like a street mutt that needed to be cared for, and that was enough to tick of Samuel. So what if he couldn’t take of himself? That wasn’t a free ticket for everyone to decide it was okay to pity him! That was so far from Samuel wanted that he almost felt sick to his stomach.

A frown played across his face, but he just remained silent as he sat looking at everything besides Carla’s eyes. He really should’ve guessed that she wasn’t going to be different. Sure, he’d got a feeling that she would be more accepting of him, but he should’ve taken experience over gut feeling. Next to no one could handle that he was homeless, and he himself sometimes hated it. Though, no matter what, he could not stand it when people decided to take over his life for him. It made him want to scream and run off. Looking up towards the waitress, he wasn’t at all surprised with the look she gave Carla. She, like everyone else, couldn’t understand what a normal girl could see in a homeless boy like him. It was horrible. Not like he had any money to his name or family to help me. People needed to stop assuming this was all his fault, he was trying to live a good life!

Looking at Carla, he watched her, trying to see the lie in her, but he couldn’t see anything besides the innocent acceptance he’d seen that first day. It had to be fake, he told himself, there was no way a girl like her could be real and really accept a guy like him. It just wasn’t possible. Her expression changed a bit from the worried friend to the overprotective mother-ish look, and he just gave her an odd look before pulling out the menu. He wasn’t sure what she expected him to do. Samuel wasn’t going to suddenly begin acting like a child, but then he wasn’t going to be a jerk and buy something expensive. That just wasn’t how he was.

Looking over the menu, he picked out a meal deal he knew he could usually pay for when he was really hungry and had good tips the night before. “I’ll have a breakfast combo with a water, please,” he ordered, but refused to look up as he put the menu back into it’s place. He didn’t say a word as the waitress left them, and he still didn’t look up from his hands on the table. “I’m not a child and I don’t want your pity, so just don’t, Carla,” he explained before he looked up, giving her slightly pleading eyes. “Please, don’t, okay?” he asked her softly, but he was quick to look away as the table near them began to chatter. Just what he needed, people gossiping about him, again.

OOC; don't worry about it

[CARLA KATIE CROSS]

Watching Sam closely, she felt more worry come over her. The two weren’t great friends yet, but they had a small friendship growing. Only for some reason she felt the need to do things for him, she had no idea why but she just felt it in her gut to do something. Maybe it was because she hated life and this was her only way of truly giving back to this god awful place, or maybe it was because a guy this kind, and for himself should do so much better. She just didn’t understand why the good people always ended up in the bad, then again she was somewhat self pitying herself with that thought.

Only the worry that was coming over her for none of those reasons, right now Sam wasn’t looking at her. Had she upset him? She had a hard time reading him and hated it. For some reason he was just like Znader in a way, she was totally unable to read him in any way. Sure sometimes she was able to pull of getting something right but overall it was like the book was closed. “Is that all?” this shook Carla a little and she looked over and nodded to the waitress with a little startled look. She really needed to stop spacing out like that.

Time passed. He still hadn’t looked at her. Carla felt her heart in her throat, it was beating so quickly. It felt as if she was waiting for him to break up with her or something. That would never happen for a few different reason, but the way he looked it made her afraid. To her all male’s even her brother were so unpredictable, and it scared her so much. What he did say when he finally spoke where light razors. Was he made at her? She felt herself trying to calm her breath. She didn’t know what to say, was this whole trying to befriend someone pointless? Or was she just being stupid again. In truth she didn’t know.

“I-“ She cut herself off feeling the need to reach over to grab his hand, but before it really moved off the table she let it drop. Looking down she sighed. “I-I-I’m sorry.” She paused and took a breath, unable to look up. Her fingers started to lace in one another before starting to trace patterns on her hands. “I-I, just want to help. In truth. . . . well I would have never looked twice at you. . . . My point is. . . Hell I don’t really know, but.” She paused as if looking for the right words she was struggling so hard to find. “I just feel the need to help you when I can. I-I’ll try to stop. Just, just remind me if I start doing it again.” Taking in a deep breath, Carla finally look a peek up through her long brown bangs that just hung low enough to cover her eyes.

With a small wateriness to them, she blinked back the unwanted tears, before taking in a deep breath. Why was she so bad with people? Letting it out she bit her lower lip before lacing her fingers together again.”I’m sorry.” She whispered softly not really sure what else to say. She just didn’t want this to fall apart. She was taking a big chance with all of this, but for some reason she felt it was worth it.

[SAMUEL ROY HAWTHORNE]

Looking around the shop, unlike he’d done since he’d arrived, Sam wondered why it was he had such bad luck. If it weren’t for the fact he was homeless, all alone in the world, then maybe people would stop looking down on him. Was it really so awful to be down on one’s luck and have no real home to go to? That thought brought pain to his insides, and he used this pain to say what needed to be said. Carla needed to know that he couldn’t handle being looked down upon from her, but when it was said, he felt bad. So, this brought on the pleading, and he was quick to regret pleading as he looked down at his lap, hearing people around them begin to talk about them.

Looking up, he was curious why her hand almost seemed to move towards his, but then suddenly she moved them to her lap as if they shouldn’t be there. Had she wanted to grab his hand or was he imagining things? Looking at her, he couldn’t quite grasp why she was apologizing if she was doing nothing wrong, and he continued to look at her in slight confusion when she explained, or attempted to, that she just felt the need to help him. Carla seemed to be trying to say that she wasn’t pitying him, but without saying that in so many words. Swallowing, he tapped his fingers on the table when she finished speaking, thinking through what to say to her now.

Stopping his oh so annoying rhythm, Sam looked up at her for a moment, and he smiled slightly. It was hope that kept him in place, but he tried to believe, no trust in Carla to be true to her own character. If she felt the need to be helpful to him, no pity in the subject, then he wanted to trust that that was all there was to it. “It’s not that I don’t want your help, Carla. It’s that I’m tired, beyond tired of people feeling the need to help me just because I have no home. I’m in my present circumstances without any choice of my own, and I’m doing the best I can to get out of it,” he explained as best he could. “Understand?” he asked softly.

There was something in him that clicked, and a smile spread across his face. Now that he had that cleared up with her, and he didn’t feel weird about her not knowing his social standings, he felt better. Oh so much better. “Well, now that that’s out of the way,” he said with that huge grin on his face, he half laughed at himself before he continued. “My plan of action is to hopefully get time in the recording studio at that one talent studio place. Playing and singing is about the only real talent I have, so why not? Sound like a plan?” he asked curious of her opinion of his present plan of action.

[CARLA KATIE CROSS]

Look at her, she was falling apart! What kind of sick joke was she putting on herself. Why was she trying so hard for someone else! Why was she caring if she made this guy man. He was a fucking guy after all, their all the same. After all. . . . it was quiet. After that struggle, this is what she got! Feeling her hands tighten into fist against her legs, she bit her lip. All of this trouble was for nothing, all this time was for nothing. Then. . . a taping sound. It was coming from the table, she knew it well. The sound of fingers taping on the table. She did it all the time at work when she got bored.

Carla’s heart was fluttering in its speeding beats. She had no idea what was going to happen next. Why was she in so an uncontrolled place? Taking in a deep sharp breath, she felt her eyes finally dry again. She took a change and took a peek at Sam. He was looking at her, she bit her lip even harder. What was she going to say? What was he thinking? God why couldn’t she read him! This was so frustration and making her so uncomfortable. How could she get along with him so well before, and have it all crash now?

He started speaking, her word seemed to drag on like hours. Carla was surely over reacting, but with her social skills it wasn’t really her fault. Shifting slightly in her seat, she finally looked at him straight on. She was struggling so much with just keeping eye contact. But she pushed herself to look at him and to her it sounded like he was speaking to a child. Carla felt like a child in a way. It was like she was being lectured by her mother or something. Is this what their relationship came to? Fuck no, she wasn’t going to let that happen. Yet, as he finished speaking she could only nodded her head slightly. Where did her voice go?

Carla was going to find her voice, she went to open it, to say something. . . but nothing came out. Closing it awkwardly she frowned deeply. She was so frustrated with herself. Hopefully that wouldn’t make Sam think she was mad at him or something. After all she had just rumbled on like a fool to say sorry. She went to go for it again, but Sam started to speak before she could find any words. It somewhat surprised her, but she listened and looked at him without being afraid. She felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. “That sounds great. . . “ She paused biting her lip. “ Do you know how to get time in their though? Cause I thought it coasted some money to do something like that?” She said, and remembered she was bring people around her down. She had to stop doing that. Carla had a think of thinking of the worst thing that could happen and she had to try and stop doing that.

“Oh! I have an idea, if you do get time in, maybe I’ll come and cheer you on? Well if that’s what you want anyways.” Carla tried making things a little more happy-go-lucky. Hopefully it worked, she even flashed him a big bright smile. It was something she was very good at, but the smile was a full on lie, yet not even her brother could see through it. That’s went she spotted something in the corner of her eye. Her whole body tensed and it was clear on her face.

“Here’s your orders!” Carla let out a breath, it was just the waitress.

“Thanks.” Carla said giving the waitress a small smile before glancing over in the corner of her eye to see if Sam noticed her little fright attack. Carla may have been jumpy, it was just who she was, but it was embarrassing at the same time. So she tried to brush it off, and look down at her meal, rubbing her hands together. “Looks good, don’t ya think?” She said smiling, brightly well tilting her head slightly to the side.

[SAMUEL ROY HAWTHORNE]

From where he sat, Sam could tell that the girl across from him was becoming increasingly up, and he was having a hard time coming to terms with he was probably the problem. No, he’d never been an extreme social butterfly, but he’d also never made someone, let alone a girl, look like she wanted to cry. Well, when he was very young, he’d fought with another playschool girl over a toy, and push came to shove. The little girl had fallen down because of his haste to get his toy back, but he’d quickly made up for it. Little brat, she was, got to keep his toy. Sam knew, without a doubt, that at times he could be much too nice for his own good.

As he explained himself, her expression seemed to grow worse for a moment. It was like what he was saying was upsetting her for some reason. It wasn’t that he was demanding too much of her, was it? Just to simply respect his pride, request to assist him instead of force it down his throat, and basically to be his friend, not his owner. Sam may be a bit crazy about his pride, but there was something in him that fought against the idea of being treated like a helpless child or pet that drove him up the wall.

Her response to his idea was relatively good, and he smiled, looking at her expectantly as she bit her lip like she did at times. It was his sign from her to shut up, it meant that she had something more to say. When she finally asked her question, he was a bit hurt at first, but he took it to heart as he knew she meant well. Sure, he didn’t have a lot of money to spare, and he certainly couldn’t afford to be greedy as his life did depend on his tips. “Well, yes, it does cost a lot, but I’m working on that,” he stated vaguely, but then he didn’t personally want anyone to know what he was doing to raise the money for his time in the studio.

Laughing at her overly sugary attempt at peppy attitude, he smiled at her happily. It meant something to him to know that she’d put forth the effort to seem happy and cheerful for him. Though his idea did have holes, she honestly appeared to believe he could do it. Somehow. Tipping his head at her, he was confused when she suddenly went stiff and seemed afraid almost.

Jumping, he was surprised to see the waitress, but he smiled, shrugging both their reactions off. He, himself, had been deep in thought and talking to her, so he held no grudge for either of them being overly cautious or frightened. Smiling brightly, he took a huge bite of his food, but stopped mid-bite to look up at Carla. Chewing and swallowing, he grinned at her sheepishly. “Look and taste are both great!” he practically exclaimed. Taking heaping bites, he didn’t even try to hide that he was hungry, but he did eat as a normal, hungry person would. Unlike when he bought a hotel and ordered a pizza, then he would practically inhale it all. This was different. He wasn’t alone.

[CARLA KATIE CROSS]

He was working on that. Carla knew right away what that meant. He didn’t have the money, she would drop that matter then. Even Carla couldn’t help him with that, as much as she was willing to help this guy she wasn’t going to give him money for pointless ideas. Ideas, dreams people carry, they are totally out of this world and never going to happen. Becoming a star, becoming the best and all of that never comes to those who want it, those who are self taught. It was just a lie to make them happy. Only it wasn’t Carla’s place to crush dreams of others.

“Well that’s good. How-how long do you think till you have the money?” She asked trying not to be mean, but she was trying her best to keep that up beat energy she was laying down so thickly. Only the food came and Carla was totally spooked. Why did people do that, how did people do that? It’s not like she was zoned out or anything, yet the smallest shadow in a crowed place made her almost die in place. Shaking it all away she smiled and thanked the girl before looking back at same. She laughed softly, not a real laugh but one that surely sounded like it was. “It does smell good.”

Pulling her tea closer, she felt the heat burn her finger tips. What a bad waitress didn’t even tell her that it was hot. So once the cup was closer her moved her hands slowly into her lap and put some presser on them. Hopefully the small pain or discomfort didn’t show too much on her face. “So what have you been up to lately anyways? “ She said as she rubbed her fingers trying to get another conversation going. It was slightly forced but Carla didn’t get out much so she really didn’t have much to talk about.

Finally her fingers where slightly numb but better, so she reached over for the sugar and the milk that were left on the table. She could see her finger tips where a little red, but she’s just going to brush that off. She started to fix up her tea in quiet, her mind wondering off. Only as she made sure not to touch the tea cup she looked up and smiled. “Sorry I’m quiet, don’t know what to talk about. “ She said the awkwardness of her personality showing.


OCC:Sorry it's small ><

[SAMUEL ROY HAWTHORNE]

Something about what he'd said seemed to rub Carla in an odd manner, but he chose to ignore that. Samuel needed to know that someone was on his side. Even if said person was only on his side in his mind, and he was all right with that fact. As long as in his mind Carla was behind him one hundred percent, nothing else mattered. That's what Samuel told himself, but deep down something else did matter. It was a something he'd never bring to the light of his mind, and it was also something he often wished he had.

With a smile, he returned to the present, and he noted her question. Carla was a curious creature when she wanted to be, but then everyone could be mysterious when they really tried. Even a homeless boy with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back and a guitar could be mysterious. Not to say that Samuel was that bad off now, but he had been that bad off at one point. Looking at the ceiling for a moment, he debated on how to answer her oh so simple question. "Well, it'll probably take me around a week or so, depending on my income," he explained as simply as he could, but stopped to think on how he'd just answered that. Yes, it did depend on his income, and he was sure he'd have an income for the next month or so. Did Carla really need to know all the details however? No, she didn't need to know his exact income, that he was sure, but what else could he tell her? Nothing, that was good enough for the time being, until she asked for more.

Laughing with her, he continued to eat, and he wondered if she really was laughing or if that laugh was somehow fake. It made him curious when the person with him could fake him out, but he decided then that it wasn't quite his business. Carla didn't know everything about him, therefore didn't trust him, and so the two didn't have any reason to call one another out for being completely honest. Afterall, Samuel wasn't being completely honest with Carla either. With her question, he'd already finished eating and so had the freedom to speak as soon as she asked. "Working mostly, raising money and all that," he explained with a smile, but winked at her to show that he was playing with her. "Though really, I do work a lot, but for the most part, lately, I've just been looking" he explained as best he could before shrugging once again, to show he didn't know how else to explain.

A smile spread across his face as she seemed to zone out almost, and he just took a big gulp of his drink as he looked outside. The sun was shinning, but still the rain began to sprinkle lightly down all around. Looking back to Carla, he was kind of curious when she brought up the fact she was kind of quiet or shy in his opinion. "It's all good, Carla, we're just hanging out. That's all. We don't really have to talk, we could just enjoy the company?" he offered with a smile.

[CARLA KATIE CROSS]

A week, that sounded off. Unless he had already saved up a lot, but why try so hard for something that was just going to fail in the end. Why not get some place to live, food to eat and things like that? Shower and a real job and he’d be so much better off. He just needed to be clean and then he would surely get a job, but Carla would never say any of this. Her mind was something dark and never happy. She always thought of the worst and because of that saw no hope like other people. Life was only here to torture your soul until death.

“That’s great. You still have my number right?” She asked trying to look on the bright side of things for Sam. Even though she knew the truth in what he wanted to pull off, she wasn’t a dream crusher, so she would go with him and help him believe in himself as much as she could. As much as she didn’t know about the male in front of her, it was the only way she really got out of the house and away from work. Trying to be normal every now and again was okay and because of this she was willing to hang out as much as she could with Sam without Znader finding out.

Carla tried not to watch Sam eat, so she looked away slightly and blew on her tea before picking pieces of her muffin before popping it in her mouth. Only Sam was done when her muffin was half done and her tea still untouched because of the heat. “Your just like my brother, place the food down and it’s gone in a minute.” She said before smiling and looking out the window to see it slowly becoming darker. Maybe it was going to rain. “Not that’s a bad thing, just means you enjoy your food.” She finished with a shrug before looking back at Sam a small smile on her lips, nothing really on her mind.

Popping another big of muffin that she broke off into her mouth she only chewed a little before breaking off another well she listened to what Sam had been up to lately. At first she was confused not really sure what he meant before said that he was just joking around with her. So she smiled bigger for him and gave a small giggle to hide her confusion on his joke before wonder. . . What job could he have? She wasn’t sure anyone who would hire a homeless guy, a young homeless guy at that. For all they know he could be some run away druggy.

“What kinds of jobs are you looking for?” These types of questions were best, it was something she picked up for her job. Being a store clerk small talk was needed after all being quiet and just ringing the stuff in didn’t usually make people. Plus people were chatty in this town, so asking small questions was what she did best. Taking a small sip she felt the tea just right, so taking a breath she drank a little more. Once someone was cool enough, she really took it down. It was something she got from her brother. If it didn’t disappear fast enough, it was his.

Holding her drink in her hands she got quiet before Sam spoke. Shaking her head quickly a small panic took over her. She didn’t want to be that awkward quietness that was so much worst then not having an amazing conversation. “Oh, no. I mean, sure it’s nice to be with you, but.” She paused trying to find the right way to put this. “I think the quiet scares me.” She said after a moment a little quieter. It was true, quiet was never good for her, she always thought too much and her mind would go to that darker place.

[SAMUEL ROY HAWTHORNE]

| Carla | 513 | complete | sorry it took so long |

A light shrug came from Samuel at Carla’s question. He suddenly felt kind of awkward with the girl in front him, like nothing made sense anymore. The easy going affection he’d felt for not a few moments ago was dimmed. No longer did he feel strong or able to fulfill his dreams. Contrary, he felt weak and just plain tired. Maybe it was just that he was finally full after being hungry for so very long. Or maybe it was something entirely different all together. Samuel wasn’t sure what it was exactly that was driving him to feel like the world was fading away around him. Regardless of how he felt, he didn’t let it show. With a bright smile on his face, he gave her a nod to her question once he was finished eating all his food.

Blinking at her owlishly, he had a moment of silence to try to follow what exactly she was talking about when she spoke of his eating habits and her brother. It took him a few moments to gather that she was trying to say that he ate in a similar manner with her brother, which was an odd thought. A smile automatically spread across his mouth at her smile, but he looked out the window as she’d done with a blink at the darkening clouds. No thoughts came to his mind. Looking back to her when she opened her mouth again, he tipped his head in a curious manner. Looking more like a puppy than anything, he blinked at her for a moment as he tried to focus on what she was saying.

Looking up at the ceiling, Samuel debated on what to say to her exactly. Sure all his jobs were innocent, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea of sharing any of it with her. Sure, she was his friend now. Carla just wasn’t someone he completely trusted with everything about himself. “I play at open mic nights with a tip cup for myself in the front, play at the park during fairs, and stuff like that,” he explained with a tip of his head back and forth. He felt kind of tired just doing that, but he knew that if he randomly said he had to go, she’d wonder why. She already knew what he had to go home to, a tree in main park.

Looking up in confusion, he tipped his head at her response to his statement of not needing to talk to hang out with a friend. She seemed to oddly be afraid of the silence, which was silly to him. When alone, yeah silence could be scary, but when one was with someone that they trusted enough not to do them harm directly, it just wasn’t scary. Shrugging his shoulders, he nodded to her statement. “All right, Carla, we’ll just have fill up the silences with our rambles and chatter then, won’t we?” he asked with a grin. It was just that simple for him, and he liked to make everything about life that simple.

[CARLA KATIE CROSS]

Looking down at her own half eaten muffin, she noticed that she was very slow. He was already done and well they could easily try and chat for some time like normal people, but it was already so awkward in a way. Grabbing her tea she started to drink it slowly. It was normal for Carla once having the tea cool enough to drip but hot to warm her cold body she would down it pretty fast. It was just eating that she seemed to be slow at. Taking her time. . . just like with everything else. So she looked at him as he spoke and took in all his details. Smiling slightly at how he made money she was once again feeling bad for him. It must be so hard, but she knew she had to remember not to pity him.

Only she was noticing that he wasn’t looking all that put together anymore. His skin was paler then it was before and the small glimpse in his eyes almost looked tired. “Are you feeling alright? Your kind of pale.” She said softly before placing her mug down and reaching over to place her hand on his forehead. He didn’t feel warm so she leaned back in her chair. “Maybe it was from eating too fast. Zander my brother sometimes gets sick.” She said with a small shrug before thinking she may have something in her bag for that.


Twisting in her seat she started to dig through her bad. She laughed at his comment without looking at him she was still digging. “I guess so, but that isn’t as easy as you’d think. Even more so if a conversation dies. “She said giving up looking through her bag with a sigh. She must only put it in when she knew Zander was going to be there. Glancing out the window she saw three cop cars fly by with flashing lights and she shook her head. “The crime in this town. It’s getting way out of hand.” She said looking back him before popping some muffin in her mouth and swallowing it before carrying on. “In the paper the other day at work the front page was covered in a huge bust down at the warehouses, apparently there were legal weapons being sold there. Can you believe that?” She said trying to bring up something more interesting. Carla never really talked about this stuff but with the rate it was increasing lately it was something big to talk about.

[SAMUEL ROY HAWTHORNE]

| Carla | 497 | complete | sorry if it isn't going as you thought it would, but it should get better soon |

He knew before he even said it that she probably wouldn’t go for it, but it was something to say he was trying to be her friend. Though she didn’t show it, she didn’t have to. When Samuel was with other people, normal people, he could just tell that didn’t want to be around him. He’d never been good enough for people. Something about Carla spoke to him, though, and he’d thought she’d been different. Maybe she would be able to make him feel whole, make him feel like he could fulfill his dreams. Instead, however, she seemed to slowly start to make him feel like his entire life was a pointless endeavor. When he explained what he did for a living, he felt the feeling ten fold and just looked away slightly trying to hide the feeling of pointlessness.

Of course when he tried to hide it, she noticed it more so, and he was once again uncomfortable. Yes, he liked women, but he didn’t like it when people who made it clear enough that they didn’t believe in him tried to touch him. With a blink, he just shrugged at her when she pulled back, and he just watched her in curiosity as she mentioned her brother once again. “I don’t know, Carla.” he explained with a slight smile, but didn’t do much more than sip at his drink in silent thought. What was he supposed to say to her now that he felt kind of ill?

Watching her in silent and almost morbid fascination, she was looking for something, but he wasn’t sure what she was looking for. It was something in her purse. He tipped his head at her when she raised herself back up and said that it would be difficult to just ramble like he’d suggested with his smile in perfect place. Turning with her, he watched the cop cars roar passed their window like bullets down the road. For a few moments he couldn’t look away, he just stared in silent thought at the road. Though when she spoke up, he turned towards her and listened silently to what she was saying. Shaking his head, he wasn’t too surprised that she brought up violence in their conversation. “Yeah, I hear it all night, but it really would be nice if this city was as safe as the police try to make it sound. It’s amazing how crooked most of our cops are, isn’t it?” he asked with a roll of his eyes. When he’d came to the city, a cop that had found him for the first time had told him that their city was in a rut and would be getting cleaned up soon enough. What was his name? All he remembered was that his name started with an L and that he was nice. With a look towards the door, he wished that cop hadn’t quitted the force, but it had obviously became too much for him.