Re: Rink: Max & Dylan
[Max's dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully when Dylan asked if her mom didn't like flowers. She didn't think much, not like this, so the expression was a foreign one. She was dating this guy, but he didn't know about her mom? How could he not know about her mom? Alright, so she wasn't exactly little miss forthcoming, but her parents were kind of hot as far as topics went, and she wondered if she'd forgiven them by the time she was old. It was a nice thought, but she didn't buy it for a second. Forgiving was sucked out of her young, with a row of dead baby chicks in the backyard and a lesson from the General about sentimental attachment.
She took a few steps in quiet, and then she gave him a matching sidelong glance.] We bang, but we don't talk? [Obviously.] Listen, my mom hates me. She loves Ella. She talks to Ella. She shows Ella how to plant stupid hateful things that grow. She's scared of me. Mom. When I was five, the General took me to base with him, and Ella stayed home. I only saw mom on awkward holidays where she ignored me. I remind her too much of dad. She hates dad, too. [A pause.] I hate flowers.
[She wasn't too surprised when he didn't know their anniversary. Lovesick couples were gross. She appreciated his bad memory. It still gave her a good idea of how long this thing had been going on, which was what she'd been after anyway.] That's a long time. Do you love me? [Brow quirk.] Luke said Jack loves me.
[But, man, oh, man, did she like his smile.] I refuse to twirl. [Still refusing to smile as she came to a halt alongside him. She laughed, though, loud and nothing pretty in the early sunlight.] I'll bowl you over if I run at you. [She would too. Deliberately. Her smile said as much, and it was a challenge.]