Pancakes, huh? [Judging by the suddenly distant look on her face, Dahlia remembered it, too. Or maybe she was just trying to pointedly not think about how badly the thought of food made her stomach cramp, but still. She was remembering less about how those pancakes tasted--they always turned out kind of burnt, as she remembered them--and more about what preceded kid Connie making them breakfast. Usually it came after a night of crashing at her place, after pranking her kid brother and watching gory R-rated movies unsupervised mostly because they could. Even if her dad hadn't been around much, Connie's house had been a haven away from her own ugly home life. A place to just do dumb kid shit with a friend. Back then, it had made Dahlia believe everything would be all right. Not perfect, not amazing, but okay. Until one summer, and that hadn't been enough anymore. But despite everything, here they were again. Like some sort of bad sequel where the life-weary heroes reunite after a decade of retirement. Dumb Kid Shit II: The Reckoning.
Smiling faintly at her own joke, Dahlia blinked a few times and glanced down at her feet. With the wind knocked out of her sails she, very briefly, looked like the lost youth Connie would remember.] Yeah, al'ight. I, uh-- [Shit. Don't wreck this, Dahlia. Keep it together.] --throw in some bacon, an' you got a deal.
[When that flask came back, she was all too eager to drink again. She had a reputation to keep up, after all. Had to be fun. And getting weird and sad via nostalgia was not that. Following Connie across the street, Dahlia tucked the flask away and her hand back into that stupid glove.] You're fuckin' kiddin' me. Never? [Disbelief in her voice. Unable to tell if Connie and her weird naivety was pulling her leg or not.] I mean. I was jokin'. An' I knew this shit town was a fuckin' thirst killer, but I didn't figure it t'be that bad.