Post Date
(Closed RP with Rosemilk)
The movie had proved decent with the bonus of being fast paced enough that the ever-restless Ignacio had remained relatively still, blindly reaching for and downing popcorn on a semi-regular basis. Of course, this had lead to some accidental finger brushes with Wisp but he had merely grinned sideways at her and re-focused on the movie. Clearly, touching the rainbow girl presented no problems for him. Now, as the credits rolled, he swallowed his last handful and reached out to take the empty bucket from her. "I'll take care of this," he offered. Absently, he retrieved a few napkins that had fallen to the floor and pushed them into the bucket. "There should be a garbage can on the way out." With that announcement, he bounced to his feet and looked down at her expectantly.
The pink-streaked blonde girl picked herself up from the chair, blinking her eyes in the way that most people did once a film was done: stretching a little, making the chunky hoop bracelets on her wrist jangle merrily in wake-up. She still had a little bit of the deer-in-the-headlights expression that she'd seemed to have the moment Iggy had joined the others, but less of the staring, awkward silence. There was still something a little hesitant and clumsy about Wisp, though, as she said: "Did you like it? I wasn't bored, sometimes I get -- bored, I hope that doesn't sound like I'm a dumbass. It makes me sound like I'm a dumbass, doesn't it."
She added her Skittles wrapper to the communal trash bucket and followed closely behind him, arms folded, as they trailed out of the theater. Not only was Nacho the type of guy to throw away all his trash, but he picked up un-obvious trash. It was enough to make anyone hyperventilate.
"No, it's cool," he reassured her. He glanced back over his shoulder and grinned whitely. "I wasn't bored either. It was pretty good. I liked the car chases." Reaching the door at the back, he held it open for her. "I don't think you're a dumbass."
That made her smile blossom: she was about to protest the held-open door, but decided not to at the last minute, waiting outside on her tippy-toes for him as she clasped her hands in front of her. There was no sign of either Jace or Antony; they were probably going to have to wait in the lobby -- or her sister and Antony were already there. She wasn't too into thinking about them. "The special effects were pretty cool," she said, "like, the exploding building? When he was running away from the FBI."
Wisp fell in next to him. The bucket of trash went into the can.
"Totally cool." Iggy pointed towards a poster of the movie they had just seen, plastered along the wall opposite them. There was a bit of clear space beneath it and a low bench. "How about we go over there and wait for the other two?" he suggested. "Man, can you believe they couldn't get seats near us? Kinda stinks, huh? I hope they had somewhere they could see okay."
"I guess everyone just wanted to see this movie," she said blithely, which quietened the suspicious demons that thought maybe Jace and Antony had disappeared for a reason; leaving her specifically alone with Nacho, to sink or swim. She plopped herself down on the bench that he'd indicated, fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater before reapplying her lipgloss in a slight fit of teenage nerves. "So um do you see lots of Riley lately."
She regretted the question immediately.
Especially since Iggy could no better hide emotion than she could and his face immediately fell as he looked down at his feet. Then he jammed his hands into his pockets and scooted back until he could lean against the wall next to her bench. "Nah, not much," he said quietly. "I don't know why. I hope she's not mad at me or something. I don't think I've done anything wrong."
Her heart was immediately filled with pity for him. "Well," she said, "I mean, it could be that she's busy? Why don't you write her a letter? Like sometimes when you're friends with someone and you haven't seen them for a while, people get embarrassed and think the other person's pissed off at them. So they don't talk to the person at all because they're worried and maybe Riley's like, 's**t I haven't talked to Iggy, I am the crappiest song played on the saddest guitar.'" Vaguely aware of how she was shooting herself in the foot, the blonde girl tapped at one of her earrings and said; "I'll help if you want. I mean, if that's cool."
Strangely, that made Iggy laugh and he shook his head, tilting his body to smile a bit at Wisp. "You don't really know Riley, do you?" he asked rhetorically. "Nah, I'll just find her and talk to her some time. Things are crazy this time of year. Dad says that, anyway. If she's mad at me, she'll just hit me and we'll get over it. No big deal." He smiled a bit more. "You're sweet, though. Thanks."
Wisp ducked her head, fine strands of the bleached blonde falling over her forehead. She sank back on the bench, arms behind her head, looking up at the ceiling; shifting her hips a little so that the Rainbow of Light stopped digging into her stomach. For some reason, Iggy saying she was sweet made her a little depressed. "I'm not really sweet," she said, dolefully. "I'm totally being two-faced, Nacho."
"Huh? No way." Iggy pulled his hands from his pockets and dropped down to sit beside her. One of his hands touched her shoulder briefly. "Not possible, Wispy," he assured her. "You're good. I think kittens would die of shock or something if you lied. Don't worry about it. Don't feel bad 'cause a letter won't work."
She was still doleful when she looked at him, though a little bit of grievance had entered her eyes. "You don't have to really call me 'Wispy' if you don't want to," she said, faltering over her impatience with it, "I'm not a kid any more, Nacho, I'm." She was a punk revolutionary. She committed acts of civil disobedience. Punks did not get all hand-wringing with the guy they were crushing on. Iggy was so nice. It was why she was blurting. "I kind of don't feel that bad a letter won't work, that's why I'm all 'Wisp you are two-faced and kind of being a jerk.' Because I was all thinking maybe Riley wanted to get with you, you know?"
It was hopelessly teenage.
Iggy blinked at her, confusion clear in his golden eyes. "Get with me?" he repeated slowly. Then his mouth twisted suddenly and he made an impatient noise. Something had annoyed him but far be it from him to explain it. Instead, he reached out to ruffle her bangs and then, more gently, push them out of her face. He was careful to tuck the longer bits behind her ears. "Nah, we're not like that," he finally answered. He met her gaze without hesitation. "Don't worry about it. Really... And I think Wispy's a cute nickname. I mean, if you don't like it, I won't use it. It's not like Antony had to tell me not to use Tony more than once." He tried for a reassuring smile.
Wisp sucked in a breath the moment he started fiddling with her hair; she knew intellectually that the dark-skinned wolfboy touched everyone, especially the little kids at the Liberty Daycare, liked ruffling heads and fixing hairdos and even redoing ponytails for little girls whose hair had fallen out of them. He was good at that kind of thing. She was still holding her breath, and almost forgot to let it out. "I wouldn't tell you," she said, slightly incoherently, and amended -- "I mean no if you think that's cute, that's fine, just, if you think that's cute." (It was all said with the lack of punctuation that came with letting one's breath out like an inflated balloon.) The reassuring smile had not gone a long way; she had propped herself up on her elbows and was looking dazed. "It's cool with me, yo."
"Oh, cool. 'Cause I like it." Her reward for giving permission was a huge, toothy smile. Then he turned to settle back against the wall, sitting close beside her. "And this is cool, y'know? It was fun coming out with you."
"Do you want to do it again sometime?" (This was also said a little quickly.)
"Yeah, sure. Just..." Iggy laughed. "Okay, one rule. No chick flicks."
"Okay." She didn't mind chick flicks, but she wasn't picky either -- looked like she was going to have to see Twilight with Irelia anyway. It probably wouldn't have been fun without Irelia. She wanted to relax so that they could enjoy the film. And Wisp didn't mind action movies, or thrillers; she only got bored during long, boring stuff where nobody was kissing, blowing things up, or kissing and blowing things up. "Are we going as friends or, like. Because that's cool but you have to say, Wisp we're going as friends because, um -- God this sounded so much better inside my head, do you get what I'm trying to say? I don't think I get what I'm trying to say, derr."
"Oh." Iggy frowned a bit at that and stared ahead at the passing people. Finally, he shrugged a bit, uncomfortable and unsure. "I dunno, Wisp," he murmured. "We'll always be friends, though, no matter what." He paused. "I don't think about that kind of stuff a lot," he admitted sheepishly. If Jace or Antony had heard that, they would have done a combination of dying-of-laughter or pointing and saying NO KIDDING.
"It's okay if you don't like me that way," the slight blonde girl assured him, propping herself up further on her arms, looking down at him. She pattered along, blue eyes crinkling up a little with emphasis: "Like that's totally cool. I mean I like like you that way but it's not a huge deal, I mean I won't get all cryabetes like Jace says. Like you're rad to have as a friend, man, I totally get it if you don't think about me that way and don't think you will, it's like, that's cool, we tight."
He considered her words for an entire five seconds. Then, very unwisely considering what the poor girl had just admitted to him, Iggy straightened more and pulled Wisp into a tight hug. "Thanks, Wisp. Thanks so much."
If she had been just that little bit more featherheaded, she would have taken it as hope that in fact Iggy did in fact harbour secret feelings for her: but deep inside Wisp's romantic little heart, she practically felt the death knell of the We Are Good Friends! hug, the type of hug that would never lead to anything more than birthday cards and going out as buds to see films together. The hug hurt much worse than Iggy openly stating he didn't really see her that way: the hug was Emphatically Platonic. Forlornly, Wisp reached around to sort of awkwardly pat his back, looking horrified when she saw the familiar sparkle of drear grey around her head: she had to immediately clutch them down, and when she pulled away from Nacho beamed as though qualifying for the Smile Olympics.
"I bet they're outside, Jace has her nicotine problem," she said. "We could go check."
"Sure." Iggy released her but instead took her hand. He grinned brightly, adding a wink. "I think we should both tell her how stupid she looks smoking, don't you?" Spotting the sadness in Wisp's eyes, though, he misinterpreted it. "And, if she picks on you, tell me. I'll tell her off. Okay?" He tilted his head and squeezed her hand. He really was a Very Nice Guy. "You're cool, Wisp. You're just different than her and that's okay 'cause the world full of Jaces would... Be kinda scary."
She squeezed his hand back before untangling their fingers: Holding Hands might have given people the wrong impression, and she patted the back of his. "It would also be kind of choked with smog," she said meditatively, "and they'd only show what Jace liked on TV, so it'd be just the sports channel with some horror films, so that would suck, right?"
And they both walked into the thin winter sunshine in order to find her chain-smoking sister and Antony, the business concluded.
