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Weekends used to bring her joy.

Used to were the key words in that statement.

Lately, Ellie Spectre had been dreading weekends, solely because of the intensity of her studying schedule for her motorcycle license test. She already knew how to ride her bike, since she had been doing it since she got it at the age of 15. She knew a lot of the basic laws about riding. However, that stupid DMV pamphlet had way too many insignificant details in it that she had to also know apparently.

It only took her about 5 hours of straight studying before she decided she needed a break.

Normally, her sort of break would consist of going into the garage and tinkering around for an hour. However, today her brain was especially sore and honestly just needed an hour or so of brainless wandering. With her backpack slung over her shoulders, she jogged out of the house, down the street, and let her feet take control from there. Frequently her feet had a habit of bringing her through the park, since it was very local and usually very scenic in comparison, but today her feet seemed to have something else in mind.

Somehow, her feet found their way to a local convenience store. One of those places that had everyday supplies for around the house. Food was one of the major supplies, but they had things ranging from cleaning house to personal hygiene products. For a moment, Ellie just wandered the parking lot, not really knowing what to do with herself before she came across it.

A plain black motorbike. The mechanic in Ellie almost squealed at the sight of it, but she managed to keep the excitement to a minimal. She walked around the vehicle, casually inspecting with a critical eye over the various qualities to the bike. It wasn't a racing vehicle. There wasn't enough wear-and-tear for it be a racing vehicle.

At least she had managed to locate a decent brainless activity to keep her occupied for the moment.

Oh, whoever owned this bike had returned and was probably going to be wondering why a kid was staring at his...

Wait, that voice sounded familiar! Her eyes could make out the hand on the handlebar, and soon enough they trailed along, up the arm, across the shoulder until it reached the edge of his face.

"Well sh*t! If it isn't Damon Amary! Last time I heard of ya, you were beatin' the snot outta some damned idiot." She had the biggest grin spread across her face. Obviously, she had no tact.

Rather than offer her usual handshake, she instead extended a fist towards him, the common gesture for a fist bump. "Name's Ellie Spectre, if ya don't remember it. It's good t'see ya, man! You causin' hell at Hillworth these days, or ya doin' somethin' else now?"

For a moment, her eyes drifted back to the bike, her eyes still having that glint of familiarity for such a vehicle. "Did ya name yer bike yet?" She certainly had a lot of questions, that much was for certain.

"Yer stuydyin' at Shlip?" Would wonders never cease?!

She could have dragged the conversation out longer about school, if she actually cared about stuff of the sort. Instead, she seemed to focus in on the motorcycle in front of her. "Well... guys usually name their bikes after chicks... but there's been a trend lately t'name them gender neutral 'bad a**' names too." She shrugged before then assessing his idea about the paint job.

"If ya wanna be like every other wannabe, then go ahead and get blue flames. Flames are overdone and forgettable." Please note, this was strictly Ellie opinion coming out of her mouth. "Ya gotta think outside of th'box, so that when people see yer bike, they know it's yer bike... couldn't be anybody else's... ya can definitely hold off on th'namin' thing until ya get the paintin' taken care of."

There was a thoughtful pause, and for a moment, her eyes almost seemed to blankly stare ahead of her, looking at the wheels of his bike without fully having the intent to do such. "Ya know, I don't think ya ever got t'see my bike... I got it my freshman year when ya still were at Meadowview... but I didn't finish it up until after ya got sent off t'Hillworth..." With the expression of "Hmmm" on her face, she then tugged her backpack off of her shoulders and began to dig around inside.

As if Damon should have known, the girl's voice snapped out "Of course I got a picture! It's my baby, and a sample of my handiwork! I did have ta fix it up quite a bit!" Eventually she pulled out a folded up photograph, which she unfolded and handed off to the boy.

"I call it The Spectrum... it's just a basic yellow paint job, but I painted the back a rainbow color... yeah, I know, kinda girly I guess, but I figured it'd be neat, since I'd be drivin' by so fast, all you'll see is a rainbow blur." She grinned, almost beaming like a proud parent.

"There's no mistake that it's mine." Since she was done rummaging through her backpack, she slung it back onto her shoulders before asking the infamous question "So... what'cha think?"

"Have ya ever tried doin' somethin' like that?" Once Damon seemed to be done looking at the photograph, the girl snatched it back, folded it back along the creases, then stuffed it in her pants pocket for the moment.

"And thanks Amary. Seriously, thanks!" She grinned before then offering another 2 cents worth of advice.

"Anyways, flames and skulls are very common place paint jobs on yer bikes. In all honesty, I'd basically steer away from any paint job that makes ya think of yer stereotypical biker's tattoos. Anythin' they put on their arm is usually a thing t'avoid if yer tryin' fer individuality."

There was a pause.

"Unless yer tryin' t'go stereotypical biker on everyone's asses." She grinned something pretty fierce, and if that wasn't enough, the blonde started to snicker.

She smirked at his mild change in expression. "Eh, it's yer bike an' all... do whatever ya want with it..." Her shoulders rolled into a shrug, but then they stopped at the mention of a dog.

"Please, PLEASE tell me you didn't get a purse dog! I will have to hit ya if ya got a purse dog!" Damon had never come across as the purse dog type, since as he said before, sports were his thing. He better be telling her next thing that the dog was some good breed, like a Retriever or a Shepherd. Those were usually pretty good sized dogs, regardless of the specific species.

If he said he had a purse dog, she would leave so quickly and never look back. Respect would be completely out the window. That would be such a shame, since she was rather impressed he had gone through Hillworth and survived to tell the tale.

"Oh god, Chihuahuas are the WORST!!!! Though, there are plenty of purse dogs that are just as bad. Why is it that the smaller the dog, the more annoyin' they get?!" She laughed, glad that Damon had not disappointed her. However, the mention of the dog being mixed with a poodle did catch her attention.

"...Goldendoodle? I think I've heard 'bout those before. Never seen one before.... at least none that I know of."

For a moment, Ellie's eyes rolled up towards the sky, as if she was thinking, but then they soon enough returned to her companion's face. "Are ya allergic t'dogs or somethin'?" Apparently she knew about the whole poodle-mixing thing making hypoallergenic dogs.

"Good temperament? Probably gets that from the Golden Retriever, since last I checked, all breeds of Poodle have really obnoxious personalities. Even standard Poodles if I recall." Even though Standard Poodles were not classified as "purse dogs," they were probably one of the few exceptions to Ellie's "I love big dogs" rule.

Yet one detail in the boy's statement did manage to get an almost jealous longing look from Ellie. He knew that she wasn't the sort to make a habit of it. In fact, she rarely acted jealous of people, or if she was, she hid it very well on a common basis.

"F*ck! Your mom picked out a dog for you?!" Her eyes seemed to grow a bit wider. "God, I would love for my mom t'get me a dog! Or my dad... but they won't allow it, since everybody's too busy t'take care of one!" Mom and Dad had work, and Ellie had school, her car, AND the whole Sailor Scout ordeal to deal with.

Not that anybody needed to know that last detail in Ellie's life.

Before that jealous expression could make anybody feel uncomfortable, the highschooler wiped the look from her face and instead replaced it with an eager grin. "Amary! Ya gotta let me see yer dog sometime! Seriously!" She gave no rhyme or reason as to why, but it was apparent she wanted to see the Goldendoodle.