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Weekends usually meant one thing and one thing only to the dark-haired girl. Sewing! If there was one activity that calmed the girl's high-strung nerves, it was making new outfits with nothing more than cloth, needles, and thread. It was probably a bit nerdy on her part to not want to go hang out at the mall or something, but Yvette had to keep in mind that she did not have the money to spend frivolously at the mall. In her excitement, she did not seem to notice that her steps were a bit faster than usual.

She had walked past a redheaded boy, not even having a chance to take a good look at his face. The first step to her getting to her weekend required her to make the daily journey to the public bus stop. Being a Friday afternoon, she thought nothing of a person calling out "Oh hey!" Fridays were hectic days, and people were calling out all the time in every direction. It was only when she had arrived at the bus stop that she practically squeaked at finding the redheaded boy she passed earlier standing right there at her side.

Her eyes grew quite large at the sudden (and unexpected) introduction, practically looking like a startled animal. The girl had a surprisingly quiet voice, though this new boy would probably blame it on her being shy. "I d-don't th-think we have c-class together..." She did not recognize his face, now that she had a good look. She also did not recall having any Damians in her classes. Subconsciously, she hugged her coat closer to her body so she could keep a bit warmer in this lovely winter weather.

Yvette did not do well with compliments.

This was an established fact. If you were just meeting the shy girl for the first time, you would rather quickly learn how bad the dark-haired girl was with compliments.

The mere utterance of "pretty face" directed at her caused an onslaught of reactions in the girl. Her cheeks instantly looked about the same color as an apple, notably nice and red to any observers. Her eyes went from looking into his grey ones into darting down to the floor in an uncertain manner. She was a rather submissive person when she was uncertain of something. And compliments made her very uncertain. Her fingers fumbled with the edges of her coat, as if trying to find something to distract her mind from the rush of words streaming through her consciousness.

The final development was her voice. It began to tremble like a leaf in a windstorm, and the words on occasion blurred together to make one rather long rushed word. "M-m-my n-name's Yvette W-W-Weaver... a-and it'sokay... I-I s-scare easily..."

Deep purple eyes slowly crawled back up, eventually relocating the grey eyes of the boy. Her eyes were almost the same sort of color as the Last Unicorn from the movie. Yvette had never seen that movie. She was extremely movie deprived.

Surprisingly, the name compliment didn't create the same reaction. In fact, her trembly voice laughed slightly before offering "M-mommy was the one who picked it. Sh-she likes unique names." It wasn't 100% unique, but it wasn't exactly a very common place name from her experience. The girl had never been in class and shared names with the other students, where there were several names that were frequently popping up in every corner. Andrews and Ashleys were much more common place.

Her cheeks were still bright red, and her hands were still fumbling with her coat, but at least she managed to get her eyes back to a normal level. For a moment, a couple of teeth bit onto her tiny bottom lip, but then she eventually answered "I'm headed home. I live f-far f-from the school. I w-want t-to get home s-so I can see Daddy off to work." It was a daily ritual. Head home, work on homework, see Daddy off as he heads off to work, then wait for Mommy to get home so they can do dinner.

The girl grew quiet again, but she at least attempted a smile.

Even if she was quiet and had issues with her confidence level, the girl seemed to welcome the company. She remained smiling and nodded her head. "You can stay if you want to. The bus usually isn't late, since it is a city transit." It was slightly odd that the boy didn't have any place to be (or at least she assumed this was the case), but maybe he was just waiting for his ride to show up?

It was possible, right?

In hopes to strike up a conversation, she offered a very general question. "Do you have any plans for this weekend?" It was a simple question, but there were so many possible answers, that it was always a good start. The girl finally ceased fumbling with the edges of her coat, but in place of that, she began to shuffle her feet slightly together.

If Yvette's father had anything to say about it, he'd probably accuse Damian of being a "riff-raff," and then something much worse. Daddy was always mean like that when it came to boys. Rather than comment about the joke, Yvette just nodded her head gently, letting a wispy laugh escape from her lips. She obviously hadn't found it very funny, however, only someone who knew the girl would really know that. The girl had an awful habit of sounding like a rodent when she giggled.

The redhead seemed to be getting comfortable, but the dark-haired girl remained standing. It wouldn't do her any good to sit down, since she'd have to stand right back up the moment she finally got comfortable. So she politely remained listening as the boy explained his weekend plans. Jeans and a party? That sounded much more exciting than her own plans. Speaking of her plans, he asked about them.

"Oh... um!" she started, "I'm going to be home most of the weekend. I'm going to be visiting a friend on Sunday though."

Valentine's Day was on Sunday, but it seemed as if this was not a big deal. In all honesty, Yvette hadn't quite made the connection yet.

Yvette was 18 years old. Yet the comment that she was about to say would easily make her seem so much younger.

"Daddy won't let me have a boyfriend."

If Mr. Weaver truly had a say in the matter, she would not have a boyfriend ever. Yvette would remain his adorable baby girl for all time if he had a say.

The connection of the fact that Topher was a boy, and that he had invited her over for Valentine's Day still was not quite clicking for her. He was a friend, and he had invited her over to hang out and catch up. As she turned this thought in her mind, she stretched her neck out and glanced towards the street, as if looking for the bus itself. Not finding anything satisfactory, she then returned to the conversation at hand.

"That party you mentioned sounds like fun! If I were you, I'd go!" Yvette was not a party goer. She never really got invited to anything outside of her family, and based off the fact he mentioned it was "high class," she was probably automatically unable to go. Sure, Yvette could always imagine going to something as nice as a high class function, but even if she were invited, she probably would have needed some sort of miracle like in Cinderella to pull it off.

Yvette was no Cinderella, and would never be a Cinderella.

Her tiny lips curled up for a gentle smile as she turned to the boy. It must have been nice to be able to go to parties. Certainly, the 18 year old Yvette knew that parties could get wild and crazy, but it still sounded like fun. Maybe sometime during community college, she could have her own experience in regards to a party. Hopefully an experience that didn't make her regret living. That was always a possibility.

"I hope you have fun, Damian." Her voice, though tiny, was completely kind and sincere. She might not have been able to go, but it didn't mean that her schoolmate couldn't have fun. That would be mean of her to not wish someone to have fun.

After her well wishes, the rumble of her bus rolled in. It was hushed when it was down the street, but as it pulled up to the sidewalk, it grew loud enough to obscure any words that the short dark-haired girl might have tried to say.

Regardless of this fact, she turned to face Damian and said "It was nice talking to you!" If he couldn't hear her, at least he could see that she had said something to him. Maybe he could read lips? She didn't know. She offered a small wave and turned to shuffle onto the bus.