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The only exercise that Parker elected to do in his free time was finger-tapping on his keyboard. The only surfing he did was on the internet. The only lunges he did were for the TV remote. You get the idea. In fact, if it weren't for the needlessly rigorous physical demands of attending Hillworth (especially when you were a student frequently in trouble like Parker), he would probably be chunky. As it were, he was simply lean -- squishy, but no rolls, a slight definition in the arms. No where near the physical fitness of Dani -- or most active ten year olds.

He let out a sigh, wiping the mayonnaise off as best he could. Spills were a frequent occurrence for Parker, but it irked him every time. "The world is a dreary place. I can't help but see it as it truly is. Just look around Destiny City. The crime rates are higher than they have ever been, and a whole league of school girl samurai and militant mavericks are sending people to the hospital on a daily basis. Comas are on the rise. Comas. Something is wrong in Destiny City -- and it is a dreary thing." He folded the napkin in half and began to work another corner, hoping to sop up as much of the grease as possible before it set into the cotton. Parker flickered his cool blue eyes up to Dani's face for a moment. "Otherwise... your logic makes sense. Might as well keep the skin you're in as strong as possible, even if it won't stop your fast-approaching death. I'm 18. A third of my life is gone, assuming I live into old age. Don't you find that dreary?" He searched her face, as if he genuinely wanted an answer. How could no one be depressed by that fact? How could they not see how their lives were just a blip on a map, a mere flash in the pan of this existence? Immortality through writing -- that is what Parker sought. He wanted to write a book like the great thinkers he so admired so that the most important part of him, his mind, would live forever.

For a moment, Parker tried to imagine Dani in a stained skirt. And then in no skirt. And then he shook the thought from his head. Didn't need to distracted. He sighed once more, dabbing at his shirt with less fervor. "At least the sandwich is delicious," he said -- and it was the single most positive thing he had said in the entire conversation, probably in the entire week.

A light breeze picked up through the park, tossing Parker's long black hair into his eyes. His father had always hated his hair, how long it was. His mother told him she liked it; it showed that he was not afraid of breaking gender stereotypes. Even after she died, he chose to keep it long -- if only to piss off his father. What right did Marcus Damhnait have to make demands on Parker? None. None at all. Parker noted the touch of a frown on Dani's lips, how it hung there unnaturally. Her face was one meant to reflect happiness, her lips intended to smile. When Parker looked in the mirror, he felt equipped to embrace the world as it was: dark, dreary, devoid.

It was simply how things were.

Dani moved closer, and Parker was aware of it, though he made no move to reflect that. He lifted his sandwich to his mouth and took a tentative bite. Hm, all good. No dripping this time. Chewing thoughtfully, he listened to Dani carefully, but simply did not agree. "Thinking about it all the time is realistic. I do not wish to live a life of delusions about the true nature of people." He shrugged. "Most girls who try to use pepper spray end up spraying themselves, or walking into the cloud that they have created. You should be careful when using it. If you run fast, that is probably a more reliable option." It was Parker's version of advice, mopey as it was. He hoped Dani wouldn't have to use it, but if she did, oh well. It was the circle of life, the fate of all things. Noble people died just as much, if not more, than those who embraced their selfishness.

"Men die much sooner than women. Seventy-five years is the average lifespan. I tend to be on the losing end of most things so I think sixty is a fair estimate for me. Maybe sooner, who knows. I could die the moment I leave this restaurant. So could you." Parker took two more bites, awkwardly tucking an errant piece of lettuce into his mouth. It was always a bit awkward to eat in front of people, but he was hungry. Folding the napkin again, he wiped his mouth, swallowing down another sip of coffee.

A home-cooked meal. Jesus. She must have a rough life. The last home-cooked meal Parker had was seven years ago, and it was terrible. His mother had never been a good cook, but she tried. He'd eat it and smile like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted, even though it was mostly burnt or oversalted. She tried, but his mother was forgetful. And now... forgotten by the world. Dead. Reduced to ashes. The empty pit in his stomach expanded for a moment, remembering the loss he never really forgot. It must be nice to have parents. Bitterness leaked into his mouth and made him grit his teeth. If he wasn't so sensitive about people feeling sorry for him, he might have made some scathing comment to Dani. Instead, he worked his jaw for a moment and then took another bite of his sandwich, saying nothing.

Parker fussed with the components of his sandwich, fingers coming up coated in the herd-riddled sauce that helped make the sandwich so tasty. He probably had a smattering tiny green and black specks in his teeth, but he was totally oblivious, taking another bite and making sure to keep his mouth closed. It had been a pet peeve of his mother's, and even after her death, Parker continued to hold up his end of the bargain to never be a disgusting eater. Like my father. He'd once seen his father down a bag of Cheetos, wipe it on his shirt, and then sneeze, spraying a shower of cheesy snot all over the table. And what did his father do? He ran his finger through the sludge and popped it in his mouth. A few moments later, he passed out in the chair, forehead resting in a pile of cheesy snot. Parker watched all of this happen from his bed on the living room pull-out sofa. It was another charming Damhnait family memory.

Pushing the thought away, he tried to stay focused on Dani, and on the words coming out of her mouth (instead of how her chest kid of bounced when she made vigorous movement). How old was she? He assumed she was a senior, like him, but if they were standing side by side, he thought most people would assume she was older. It pleased Parker to hear that Dani was aware of the futility of her delusion, even if she didn't word it quite as strongly. Most girls would have walked away from him at this point, but Dani didn't seem at all phased by his words. He imagined she must have a strong foundation, not easily shaken. It was nice.

Taking another bite of the sandwich, Parker was happy to eat while Dani talked. It was almost like... they were out together even. Granted, she was sitting on the table, not eating, and dressed for a jog, which starkly contrasted with everything that Parker was wearing or doing. Still, the flow of conversation, the awkward pausing between bites of his sandwich, the moments of self-disclosure. Wow... had it really been that long since he had shared a semi-friendly conversation with someone? Most of Parker's friend were online; face-to-face interaction was not his strong suit.

He placed the sandwich back down on the checkered blue plate, nudging it toward the center with his thumb. A light smirk cracked in the corner of his mouth when Dani punched the air. Her active personality echoed in her flamboyant gestures, just as Parker's pensive reservation reverberated in his lack of expression. "Do you often have people chasing you?" he ventured, raising a quizzical eyebrow. Parker had only run from a stranger once, and it was because the homeless man was coming after him with a broken bottle demanding money.

Nodding his way through her comments of life and death, Parker just shrugged. They had different viewpoints. They'd both started theirs, and though Parker felt his had more support, he didn't push the issue. Fun for him was trying to make a mark on the world through his blog and hopefully, one day, his writing. Everything else was a disturbance toward that pursuit.

When the older man regarded Dani, Parker's smirk dipped into a frown. A terrible pang hit his stomach. Was she a slut? Was she the kind of girl who slept around with older guys? Great, just great. He felt the tentative respect that had been built for her waning. Part of him wanted to ask her if she knew the guy, but Dani had posed a question to him before the words could leave his lips. He'd missed the window to inquire.

Instead, he talked about Hillworth, or Hellworth as many of the boys called it. "It's fine. The teachers are exceptionally militant. It's a joke that they call it a grammar school. It's more of a military academy. Hillworth is just a means to an end, a way to get some semblance of an education before I can move on to better things." Parker didn't really want to say more on it. He hated people's pity, and he did not want to tell Dani why he had to go to Hillworth in the first place. Talking about his father's addiction, his mother and sister's deaths, or the general poverty he felt riddled with... these were not at the top of his list of things to discuss. Besides, part of him feared that, if he shared his last name or anything about his family, Dani might figure out that he was the son of Marcus Damhnait -- the man who had a very, very public trial in Destiny City just a few years ago on drug charges. It was not an association he wanted her to make. "I'm sure it's nothing like Meadowview," he added with a shrug. 'Do you like it?" Hillworth was a dreary place. Why would he want to talk about it when he had to live in it every day? No, no. He'd much rather hear her ramble on about Meadowview.

Delicious sandwich was delicious. In no time, Parker had eaten the whole thing. He used one hand to brush crumbs of his shirt, the other to wipe his mouth with the napkin. There was a bit of coffee left so he sipped lightly at it, hoping to make it last. He didn't really have space in his budget for another. In fact, he probably should not have even eaten here at all. It had been a treat for himself, the way a child might blow all their allowance on candy. Parker wasn't exactly a kid, but he was as strapped for cash as most eleven years old, probably. He made good money doing work with computers, but the calls were not constant. Typically, he did one repair a week, maybe, two. His rates were cheap (since he was only 18 and not formally trained), but the money he made was enough to keep him in clothes and other necessities. It was paying for his health insurance that drained the bank. Hillworth provided basic health care, but they didn't cover much aside from hospital visits. And even then, there was a cap. Besides, the administrators would just as soon stick a bandaid on a broken leg and then send you to run the mile.

Pushing the plate aside, he linked his fingers through the wire table, flexing and unflexing his hand. "I don't really have to watch out for perverts at night," he said, shrugging. Parker had heard bad stories about girls getting robbed, or worse, but he himself had only ever been accosted by homeless men demanding money. The fact that Dani had fled from creeps on multiple nights seemed odd. Parker said nothing of it, brushing more crumbs out of his lap. He did his best to ignore her comment about being cute. She was cute, but he wasn't sure how to react to her comment in the context of the conversation. Maybe... she was a slut? Hm. The boy didn't think so, but he had a tendency to assume that most confident girls were also kind of slutty. Thankfully, his face didn't reflect these thoughts. He just nodded.

"I'm a slow runner. They would catch me," he said, waving dismissively. He nearly made a comment about what Darwin would say about that, but decided not to given his momentary distraction induced by Dani's shampoo. His interest peaked steadily, however, when Dani started to bash Crystal Academy. A smirking grin played across his lips, and his opinion of her soared skyward, all suspicion that she might be a slut dissipating into a fine mist.

He waited for her to finish and then injected his own thoughts. "The girls of Crystal Academy are spoiled princesses who don't understand hard work. The tuition to attend school there is higher than Destiny University. It's a blue blood institution intent on a classist genocide. I am certain that if any girl deigned to date someone from Hillworth they would be thrown in a black bag and shipped across the country." Parker gestured with his hands, punctuating each word by pressing his finger onto the wire of the table. "They represent all that is wrong with society today -- how money and power matter more than hard work and respect. There is no such thing as fair or equal when money is changing hands. The existence of that school is a blight on humanity, designed to elevate a bunch of fifteen-year-old mealy-mouthed girls to some kind of celebrity status. Everything about them is meant to show others how they are superior: their fancy uniforms, their catered lunches, their lavish classrooms." His little diatribe flew past his lips with no restraint, as if it were a memorized speech.

Sinking back in his chair, he propped an elbow up on its arm, covering his mouth with his hand and rubbing his chin. He looked off into the distance, past Dani. After a few moments, he let his hand slip back down, eased his posture. "It sickens me," he said, letting his eyes roam back to Dani's face. "It sickens me to see the undeserving put on a pedastal while the rest of the world is squished beneath their designer heels." Parker exhaled sharply, almost a laugh, and let his chin dip down. The tone was polarized from his earlier demeanor, a clear button had been pressed, and in his comfort with Dani, he had let his mouth fly ahead of his mind. Not sure where to go from there, he let his voice trail off, eyes searching the horizon for something unseen.

After the words left his mouth, he raised his eyes to Dani. How would she react? This was a defining moment in the burgeoning "nice to meet you" relationship that had only just begun. If she blatantly disagreed with him or acted hurt, it would be the end. He could never tolerate someone who didn't see the Crystal Academy for what it was -- a tool of the bourgeoisie. When she spoke, he listened carefully, face drawn slightly more negative that it had been before. His brows inched together, but did not pull down into a scowl, just a tentative grimace of disagreement.

Whatever Dani said, she had also never been terribly disadvantaged, at least that was Parker's assumption. Even if she had a negative encounter with a few of the girls, he doubted Dani had ever been so thoroughly downtrodden by society as he had. And that treatment he equated to the divide between the rich and the poor. Nodding his head at first, he stopped when she launched into her diatribe about judgments. To not judge was inhuman. How could he be faulted for it?

Parker opened his mouth to share these thoughts, but stopped when Dani continued. His tapping finger stilled when she mentioned that she liked his company. The Hillworth senior had very few friends, most of them online, and to have a perfect stranger decide that he was a desirable person to be around was akin to a life-long vegetarian declaring a love of steak without ever having tasted it. Taking a moment to arrange his thoughts, Parker spoke again, this time with more control. "The difference is that the comments made about Crystals do not remove them from their positions at the top of the societal pyramid. So what if people talk negatively about them? They can pay for people to tell them nice things. Attending the Crystal Academy is a bright red positive check mark on a person's record. Attending Hillworth is a blight." Parker made a wide sweeping motion across the table. "Those who choose to attend that school want that title. They seek it out, just as you say you would not choose it. For that reason, the girls who attend Crystal Academy -- scholarship recipients and spoiled princesses alike -- are guilty of perpetuating a classist system where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. They are as responsible as the institution itself." Parker lifted his hands up at either side and then let them slowly ease back down.

He didn't resent Dani for her opinion; she had exactly sworn an allegiance to the Crystals or anything. That didn't mean he thought she was right. Parker firmly believed that Dani was being delusional, but as she had admitted earlier, she preferred to live with delusion from time to time. Straightening up in his chair, he raked a hand through his hair. He thought of saying more, but he fell silent, tapping at the edge of the table. "You are someone who cares about health and exercise. I am someone who cares about usurping a system designed to keep people in poverty there, a system designed to widen the gap between the classes." Whether it was good or not, whether it was noble or not -- Parker did not ruminate on these things. Instead, he glanced over to the quickly setting sun and then back to his closed laptop. This day certainly hadn't gone as planned, and he wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

The breeze grew cooler, and Parker adjusted his jacket, zipping up the gear-lined zipper. It made a series of tink-tink noises that made Parker more pleased with the design. Really, it had taken him a bit of time and planning to start on this jacket. Perhaps he would work on it more tonight? Hm... but somewhere away from the boys of Hillworth. If they caught him sewing, he would find his sexuality under scrutiny, and really, he'd just as soon drawn a swarm of hornets into his bedsheets. Parker would appreciate as little attention as possible from his classmates, especially since it regularly led to some kind of physical violence which Parker was always on the losing end of.

Why didn't underprivileged boys ever want to have a fiery debate?

His clear eyes traced the thoughtfulness in his expression, dragging across a smooth cheek, the slant of a jaw, the roundness of lips, before making their way back to her eyes. It was a quick move, a kind of appraisal, and Parker did it unconsciously. When she responded with her own comment, Parker only interrupted her once to correct a statement, saying, "There is no right and wrong. Just different viewpoints on a common topic." It was a knee jerk reflex, the desire to turn her views toward the logic of his own. She saw in him more chivalry than was truly there. Parker largely enjoyed highlighting and complaining about the problems with society; he didn't quite put his money where his mouth was.

As she tread onto further territory of his interest in these changes, Parker decided to play it on the safe side. We was quite paranoid about his blogger alter-ego. No one knew. Literally. No one else knew. He had no plans to change that now. "Hillworth monitors the extracurricular activities of students quite closely. We have to sign in and out to leave the school. Trying to create a progressive social reform group in that context would be a waste of breath. Very few of my classmates would be interested." It wasn't like he had asked them, but Parker felt comfortable assuming. Given the disdain they showed for his philosophy texts and lectures, he highly doubted they would want to join a club.

"Politics is a corrupt field, in and out. Even those who are thought of as the 'good' politicians had skeletons in their closet. I have no intention of aiding in that further defrauding of the public." He shrugged, twirling his cup on its saucer. The ceramics made a dragging noise as they slid past each other. "I want to write philosophy books," he said at last, leaning forward in his chair.

Parker found shrugging to be an incredibly useful motion, certainly more useful than smiling. When he no longer cared to comment on an issue, he shrugged. When the Hillworth psychologist (a total joke) asked how he was feeling, he shrugged. When his father's lawyer asked him to take the stand in the trial, he shrugged. When he had nothing to say, he shrugged. It was a beautiful, noncommital response that Parker flocked to like a bee to sweet, sweet honey. So when Dani commented on Hillworth and trouble and being a boy, Parker merely shrugged and then fidgeted with his coffee cup. Trouble was more familiar to Parker than the back of his hand, especially at Hillworth. He had no desire to recount to Dani all the ways in which his life sucked on a daily basis, or how frequently the suck-age was caused by administrators at Hillworth.

When she switched gears to politics, Parker nodded his head thoughtfully -- another useful gesture. In general, he never really interrupted anyone, allowing them to state their full point. He was not afraid of their logic and so he felt no need to cut them off to inject his view. Instead, he would wait until they expressed the full of their argument... before tearing it to ribbons. Dani, especially, he did not mind listening to speak. She had a nice voice, and a nice face, a nice body. Far too nice for him. Sigh.

"I am glad you are realistic about politics," he said, coming as close to a compliment as Parker generally did. Dani was still a delusional person, but at least she was realistic about her delusions. Parker could kind of respect her for that, even if it was a foolish way to go through life. "I wouldn't like me either if I chose to subscribe to a life of hypocrisy, preaching a desire for the betterment of society all the while lining my own pockets and serving my own purposes." His assertion of the politician was far more direct and derisive than Dani's, but he felt as though they were saying the same thing.

Sitting up, he prickled a tad at her tone toward philosophy, one brow drawing down toward the other. "Philosophy is a dedication to reality, and to exposing the mechanics of our world no matter what repercussions it might draw forth. There is no pursuit so dedicated to the human mind as it is." His words piqued with intensity, but a very different kind than the tone that had imbibed his rant against Crystal Academy. In his eyes, there was nothing greater than to study philosophy, to analyze how thinkers think, why the world spins in the way that it does. "In a world of the blind, the philosopher sees," he said, a bit softer but still edged with confidence. "I would write books. If they were studied in a class, then I suppose you could call it a textbook." He beamed (as much as he was capable of) at the thought of future college students picking up his texts to examine. Next year, he hoped to be attending college. In ten years, he hoped that other students would be reading his words.

Well, at least if he managed to live that long.

Straightening the arm of his jacket, he didn't say anything about whether or not it was rude. Her intention didn't really matter anyway. Parker merely cared about the question. Sensing an oncoming lull in conversation, he ventured, "And what do you want to be? Professional rock-climber? Or just a professional at talking to strangers?" It was curious to Parker that Dani had chosen to sit down with him of all people -- and even more curious that he liked it so much. For a brief, glimmering moment, he felt a little -- dare he say it? -- lucky to have her there. Out of habit, he glanced over his shoulder, as if to look for the approaching hand of fate to crush that mere sparkle of joy in his day, but quickly glanced back to Dani, eyes holding to her face.