Rainy Days
Characters: Carmel and Eric Setting: Library, afternoon
Carmel had had a lot of fun playing a game with Leandro earlier. The gray rainy day was still there afterward, though, and it made her sigh. It was a weird mood she was in, certainly, but a lot of it, she suspected, was entirely the weather. With as much as it was storming in this area, it might not hurt to grab a few candles just in case.
But first, she wanted something to occupy her attention, and so it was the library for her, and then a snack. It was almost lunchtime, so she made a hefty sized sandwich. She wished she had a microwave in her room for some soup, but maybe she’d go back for a bowl of something after she got a book to read. Instead she grabbed a small bag of chips for now, though she’d pay with having to go to the gym later.
She wandered into the library, wondering what she’d like to read today.
Eric was in a bit of a mood with the weather being so messed up, and he hoped that the storm ended soon so they could get back to warm, summer weather. He was allowed outside, and he wanted to be able to spend as much time out there as he could. He’d hoped to grab a guitar and find a tree to sit under and just play for a little while. Maybe he would see if Mazie wanted to start learning the fiddle today, though he kind of figured he should probably come up with some kind of plan ahead of time. He was more the ‘winging it’ type, but he supposed he’d be able to come up with something if he put his mind to it.
With the weather being what it was, he was slow to leave his room. Eventually he figured he should, though, and he wandered over to the other block to get something to eat from the kitchen. Pop Tarts in hand, he left the kitchen and then kind of just stood there for a minute, looking around and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with himself now. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head and just starting in a direction, the second story balcony shielding him from the rain. Not long after he found himself in the library, shrugging slightly and deciding: why not? He could pick out a few books to take back to his room. Reading was a good way to pass the time when he could actually settle him mind to focus on a book.
Wandering further into the room, it wasn’t long before he came across Carmel. “Oh hi there,” he said by way of greeting. “Looks like I’m not the only one who thinks a book on a rainy day is a good idea,” he joked lightly.
Carmel finished chewing her bite and smiled at the guy. "Hi," she said. "Yeah, I figured I'd try to find something to hold my attention. There's only so much to do on a day like today. It's too wet and dreary to do some of what I'd planned for the day, and it's not quite time to start dinner yet, so I figured I'd grab something to read." She set down her plate and sandwich, wiping her fingers on the napkin she'd grabbed and offering her hand to the guy. "I'm Carmel, by the way. I don't think I've met you yet."
Shifting his Pop Tarts to one hand, Eric shook the offered hand. “Nope, don’t think we have. I’m Eric,” he introduced himself, pulling his hand away to get back to eating. “Just got here a few days ago. So you’re Carmel? Master Chef and all that?” he teased lightly, grinning a bit crookedly at her. “But I hear you about the weather. Kinda hard to be enthusiastic about doing anything in it, huh?”
"I wouldn't say master chef, but I don't think I do too badly," she said, modestly but with a grin as well. She couldn't deny she liked being known for her cooking, and compliments were nice, but she also didn't let her head swell much. "It really is. I figured something to read... maybe. What sorts of stuff are you into?" she asked, gesturing at the shelves. There was a more than usually decent selection for a prison library.
Eric grinned at the modesty, not dwelling on the topic because he thought she might be the type to get embarrassed by continued compliments. When she gestured toward the shelves, he glanced over, eyes skimming titles without really reading them. “Oh, I don’t know. Read a lot in prison, it’s a good way to pass the time, and you can’t really be too picky about what you read there when the selections not even half as good as here,” he pointed out with a small grin, though he wondered if maybe women’s prisons were different in that respect.
"I did a fair amount too, but you're right, the selection always sucked. A lot of old stuff and some stuff I wasn't that interested in. There's a fair supply of mystery and other things here, though, from what I found the other day. So much better than what there was at Albion," she said with a definitive nod. "I won't have to resort to law books which, I'm sorry, still manage to put me to sleep."
Shifting to lean against the shelf behind him, Eric nodded slightly in understanding. Though when she mentioned law books, he groaned and laughed at the same time. “Oh honey, you’re braver than me. Didn’t really try to read the law books. Maybe if I’d hoped for an appeal I would have, but I didn’t really see the point,” he admitted, shrugging slightly. Yeah, he knew he’d opened the door for her to ask about it, but he could hope she wouldn’t take it. “Mysteries could be cool, but I don’t know, there already seems to be plenty of mystery surrounding us.”
"I was very, very, VERY bored," she said dryly. "I didn't actually hope for an appeal either, it wasn't going to happen and I knew that," she'd admitted to what she'd done, after all, "but like I said, I was bored, and my cellmate at the time didn't mind having a second set of eyes. Though I can't say I'd ever do it again. I'm not sure I'd be that bored again." At least here there were people to talk to that most of the time she didn't have to worry they were going to stab her in the back the first time she turned around. "Hmm, yes, that's true. There's fantasies or even romances, if that's your fancy."
Eric nodded, glad that she didn’t ask why he hadn’t hoped for an appeal. He just didn’t like lying to people, even just by omission, and he felt bad enough not telling Violet the whole story. It was all about survival, though, and he knew that people didn’t take kindly to hearing someone was in for rape, going so far as to not listen to the story at all. “Uh oh, am I that transparent? Let’s not let it get around that I love me some fantasy and romance,” he replied cheekily, winking at her.
She grinned cheekily. "Utterly transparent," she agreed with a laugh. "Really, though, if you haven't looked at the choices, you should. There's a bunch of stuff, and most of it isn't ancient like most prison libraries seem to be. So there's a lot there. I don't know what else to do today, since I've already played a game and there's only so much time to spend in the kitchen, though I'll go work on something for dinner in a bit. Gonna eat my sandwich and such first, and read a bit unless something better comes along."
“I’ve looked around in here before, but not too closely,” Eric admitted. “The music room’s been keeping me occupied, but I figured I should throw in some more variety. My fingers are already getting calloused again,” he said with a laugh, rubbing the fingers of his left hand together. It would take some time to recondition his hands to get used to it. “So what game did you play and with who?” he asked curiously.
"Ahh, so you play something, then?" she asked curiously. "What, if you don't mind me asking?" She sort of figured it was a string instrument, given the talk of callouses. Piano and such didn't really do that, so far as she knew, though she wasn't into music in that fashion--she didn't think she had any talent for anything of that bent. "I played The Game of Life with Leandro," she said, her voice fond.
“Don’t mind at all,” he replied first. “Guitar, violin, bass, among others, though those are my best. Haven’t brushed up on the bass again yet, and I’m still a little rusty with the violin, but the guitar? That was like riding a bike.” And if he sounded both surprised and proud of that, he rather thought that would be understandable. “Life? No shit. I haven’t played that in years,” he said with a laugh.
"Ahhh, cool. String instruments, they're all a little alike with the fingerings, right? Or so I think someone told me once. But I admit, I don't know a lot about that sort of thing," she said, shrugging slightly. She did grin at his pleased surprise, however. "Isn't it great when you do that? It's amazing that people can go back to doing things they haven't done for years. Muscle memory and our amazing brains," she said, smiling. She laughed warmly. "I know, right? I haven't played it since I was, like, twelve. It was a lot of fun, even if I did have to get him to remind me of all the rules and everything."
“Yeah, the fingering is pretty similar,” Eric confirmed with a reassuring smile, not minding the question at all. “And it’s okay that you don’t know a lot about music. I’m betting you know a hell of a lot more about cooking than I do,” he pointed out with a crooked grin. “Oh yeah, definitely amazing.” Though he did need to practice the violin more so that he wouldn’t look like an idiot whenever he did start to teach Mazie. “I’d have to be reminded of the rules and stuff too, I think. I can’t even remember when I played it last. Games are a good way to pass time, though. Wonder if we could get a few people together for an epic game of Monopoly,” he wondered with a laugh. Though now he was wondering what kinds of games Violet might like to play, and that was a train of thought he didn’t need to go down. As much as he liked Violet, he knew he needed to branch out a little more. Maybe it would help with the ever-increasing attraction to her.
"I've never been musical much beyond singing along with the radio," she admitted with a shrug. It just hadn't been a part of her life, though she always did like listening to stuff. There had never been any opportunity to learn. She grinned. "An epic game of monopoly sounds like a blast," she said. "That's one game I do remember how to play. Reece promised awhile back that he'd teach me how to play poker properly at some point as well." Though considering clothes might be the only currency they all had, Carmel wasn't sure how far that would go or how comfortable she'd be. But hell, she was lonely, so a game with a group of people would be fun, and she didn't think she was so awful at poker that she'd be the only one losing clothes like there was no tomorrow. And she wasn't as self conscious as some people, she supposed, even if casual nudity was not her thing at all.
At the mention of Reece and poker, Eric smirked slowly. He couldn’t help but wonder how Reece would feel to playing poker with him, especially since there really wasn’t anything to bet here, and that thought was immediately followed with thoughts of playing with Violet, and he shook his head to clear it. “Reece did, did he? Nice. Maybe we’ll have to organize some kind of game night,” he said with a laugh. Game night in prison, how ridiculous did that sound? It was an amusing thought.
She saw the smirk and grinned, knowing what he was probably thinking. After all, it wasn't like they had money in here or anything, so it was skills or other things they'd have to be using to bet. They could always use food, but men preferred other things, in her experience. "We might have to, though I have to say if we do poker I might have to limit the number of people, depending on what we use to bet," she said, shaking her head slightly, her curls bouncing a little.
Eric laughed at that, shaking his head slightly in amusement. “Aw, c’mon. What’s the worst that could happen?” he asked rhetorically with a cheeky wink. Hell, there was even alcohol if they really wanted to make it a good time. Though he figured that with a missing kidney she probably couldn’t drink. He didn’t know for sure but it seemed like a valid guess. Maybe he’d ask her sometime. “We could always bet with Monopoly money,” he joked good naturedly.
"Worst that could happen is that I turn out to be even worse at poker than I think I might be, and the stakes end up being clothing since we have no money," she said dryly, though a laugh burbled a little underneath her tone. Of course, he didn't know her, so he wouldn't know that she wasn't really the sort to be comfortable stripping for just about anyone unless she was in a relationship, but a game still might be fun. "Monopoly money, ha. That'd be interesting. I was thinking cookies and candy, though people tend to eat those during as well as after," she said.
“Well, that would only be so bad if the company wasn’t... favorable,” Eric said suggestively, winking at her. She was an attractive woman, if maybe a little older than he normally might have gone for, not that he had any intention of going for her, but he wasn’t above noticing. “Oh see now, I think your idea is even better than mine. Not that I could promise not to eat them preemptively, but it would be worth it. You should make some cookies,” he suggested, mostly joking. He wouldn’t be disappointed in the least if she did make some.
Carmel laughed softly, not above being flattered, though she knew it for what it was and it wouldn't sway her like it might some people. It was nice to be noticed, even if that was all that people did. "That's the thing--lots of people end up eating them before anything is over, and then they're 'broke,'" she said with a grin. "But I do owe everyone some cookies at some point soon, so I do need to make up some. The last batch are long gone at this point." She had just been focussed on meals lately and not on the extras, but perhaps if she got bored later tonight, or tomorrow, she'd make up a batch.
Eric finished off the last of his Pop Tart, dusting his hands off and nodding. “And that’s where you get into the betting with other things,” he continued her train of thought with a laugh. He’d never had a lot of money to gamble with and had often made bets with other things. At her next words, he froze, eyes going wide. “Wait!” he said, tone and expression serious. “There were cookies? Real, homemade cookies? And I missed them?!” He pouted then, looking at her with his best puppy eyes. “And I was having a good day, too. I think I’m gonna cry.” He couldn’t keep it up for long, though, and soon he was laughing.
"There were real cookies for the first couple of days I was here. Since then I haven't had a real chance to make more yet," or a reason to particularly bribe any one person. She might make a bunch of batches to get her room painted at some point, but for now that didn't seem like it would happen just yet. "I'll make up a batch either this afternoon or tomorrow, depending on what I settle on for dinner and how much prep it takes... and the continuing poor weather," she said, glancing toward the window with a faint moue of displeasure. "What would you prefer? I was thinking chocolate chip and maybe something else." She couldn't help but laugh along as he did.
“Ahhh, how long’ve you been here?” Eric asked, dropping the joking for the moment. He grinned when she said she’d make up a batch soon. “Sweet! And uhh, I don’t know. Chocolate chip are always good, but I’m not picky. And if you want some company while you make them, let me know. Can’t promise I’d be any help, but work always goes faster with someone to chat at, right?” he offered with a little crooked grin.
"I've been here since the first day it was up and running, as far as I can tell," Carmel told him. That had been what... sheesh, the days were running together. "Ummmm. This is Day 9, I think? So nine days, then, though sometimes it feels like a whole lot longer, honestly." She grinned at him and nodded. "Sure, company is always welcome in the kitchen. It's always nice to have an extra set of hands and some conversation to help move things along." Besides, she liked people, in general, and she would like more friends, if possible, even if things here were going to be... temporary.
Eric nodded slightly in acknowledgement of Carmel’s answer. Nine days really wasn’t very long at all, but he knew very well how being locked up could skew one’s perception of time. “Yeah, I’ve only been here a few days, and it’s already getting hard to keep track,” he admitted. He still didn’t think he’d be much help in the kitchen, but if he got some cookies out of the deal, it would be worth it. And he wasn’t thinking of sneaking a few extra to take down to Violet. Nope, not at all. “Awesome. So yeah, just let me know when you’re gonna make them, and I’ll swing by at least to keep you company,” he reiterated. “What are you thinking about for dinner?”
She smiled faintly. It really was hard to keep track of the days sometimes. It wasn't like they had anything to really mark it off on, though she supposed she could make herself out a calendar. "It really is," she said. "I'll try to do it tomorrow or the next day. I'll message you on the computers, if that works for you?" she offered. "Just company is always welcome, honestly. I'm used to having a bustling kitchen, so it's unusual when I'm alone, really." She hmmed and pondered. "Something simple tonight, really. There's a couple of casseroles I could throw together really quickly and stick in the oven for everyone."
“That works, yeah,” he confirmed with a grin and a nod. He could try to be patient and not point out that there was no time like the present. With nothing but time here, there was no reason not to be patient, and he was ignoring the voice that said there was no reason to wait, either. That voice always got him into trouble. “Well, I’m happy to provide company. And simple’s good sometimes. Pretty sure no one would fault you for going for something quick and easy once in awhile,” he pointed out with a crooked grin. Though she might be the overachieving type that would feel bad about it.
She grinned faintly. "I suppose they wouldn't mind, but a regular, good meal is what I usually aim for. I figure I'll either do leftovers or something really simple one day here soon. Gives me a little bit of a break if I need it," she said, moving to perch on the edge of the table as they chatted, crossing her legs. She was glad to meet another nice seeming fellow. This one was at least less awkward than one or two of the others, so she didn't feel she had to tread quite as carefully.
Eric rather thought it wasn’t something she should feel obligated to make a big meal for everyone every night, but if she wanted to do it, more power to her. “Leftovers and simple are always good. Then again, before I got locked up, I was more of a fast food or whatever I could nuke kind of guy,” he admitted with a half-smirk, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his feet a bit.
She wrinkled her nose at him almost playfully. "Ewwwww," she drawled, and laughed softly. "Fast food and microwave food. You poor boy," she said, shaking her head and tsking quietly. "My mother was that way, but my grandmother taught me how to cook, and so I sort of took over at home from a young age. Why ingest all those preservatives and stuff if you don't have to? Plus it tastes better homemade." Except maybe when her mother attempted to cook.
Her disapproval, however joking it might have seemed, didn’t really surprise Eric considering she’d made her living cooking real food, so he just chuckled along with her laugh. “Ahh, well yeah, I was meaning in college. Back home, my mom cooked a lot. Had to. We couldn’t afford to eat out and shit, so there was a lot of stuff she could make homemade and stretch it out to feed us all on a budget and stuff,” he elaborated, not allowing himself to feel awkward about the admission. Lots of families lives on tight budgets, and it wasn’t at all uncommon to find those types in prison; it wasn’t anything to feel awkward about.
"Trust me, I know how that goes," Carmel said, not finding the admission odd in the least. "My dad worked two jobs to support us, and I worked from a young age. Mom couldn't budget for anything, so Dad taught me how to do that and I did a lot of the shopping. Mom never saw a dollar she couldn't be parted from," she said dryly, rolling her eyes. She loved her mother, she did; but she didn't respect her a whole lot most of the time. Her mother was a free spirit, and Carmel had had to be grown up from a relatively young age in a lot of ways.
Eric nodded slightly when Carmel explained her own situation growing up, thinking it sounded familiar enough. "That's a shame. My mom was always an expert at saving, budgeting, and all that. They didn't let me work when I was a kid, though. Had to focus on school so I could get a scholarship for college. Ended up getting it, too, so that worked out as planned at least," he said with a faint smirk and a shrug.
"Oh, I had to work at school too. But I had to earn the money for it all. I did culinary and then enough for a business degree of sorts so I could run my business without killing it, and I put myself through with scholarships and working." And she'd worked really hard, too. Things hadn't been easy until the last couple of years before everything went to hell. The work had still been hard, but not like it had been to get everything started. "That's good, though, that you managed a scholarship. Where did you go?"
"Ahh, yeah, I got you. Worked my ass off for the scholarships I did get. My parents just didn't want us splitting our focus. They both worked, and I don't know, maybe it was a point of pride that they not let us work before we were out of high school?" Eric posed with a shrug. He hadn't been on good terms with his parents in a very long time. "Yeah, was pretty proud of it at the time. 'Course, after I went, things got pretty screwed up with the 'job' I did decide to do. But uh, yeah, I went to the University of Vermont," he answered.
"Nothing wrong with that. My dad would have done the same if we could have afforded it at the time, but as I said, mom never met a dollar she couldn't spend. I don't really think she could help it some of the time." She shrugged. It wasn't that unusual, really; there were plenty of people like that in this world. It had just made things a bit hard at home, that was all. "Can I ask what the job was?" she inquired, cautious since some people did overreact to too many questions about life on the outside.
Compulsive spending wasn't really all that uncommon, Eric thought, so he just nodded in agreement, choosing not to comment on it again. The question she asked wasn't altogether unexpected, but his expression still turned a little awkward, and he lifted a hand to run through his hair. "Uhh, yeah. I got into selling drugs. Not the best of choices, but I made good money," he answered without sounding proud of it or like he was defending it. "Landed me in prison, so yeah, definitely not the smartest plan."
Carmel wrinkled her nose and sighed, leaning back on her hands. "Yeah, that's sort of a ticket to prison," she said dryly. "My brother landed in prison for drugs a few times, I think. I never could keep track of everything he was in for and when." She rolled her eyes slightly. "We didn't live in the best neighborhood after awhile." It had started out middle class and sort of devolved over time. "Some people said it was inevitable. But yeah. Tangent. College would definitely have been ... better than drugs." She wasn't judging so much as she was agreeing with that assessment. He wasn't stupid, but what he'd done was, a bit.
Eric rocked back on his heels, shrugging slightly. “Yeah, never really said it was the smartest idea I ever had, and I still went to school, just never got to finish cause of it. Oh well, though. Shit happens. Sucks about your brother though.” He couldn’t help the thought that it apparently ran in the family, as she’d obviously ended up in prison as well, but he knew that a lot of the time, there was a hell of a lot more to the story. “Mind if I ask what you’re in for?” he asked even though he hadn’t intended to ask her at all.
"Think you'll go back someday? To school, I mean. Study something else interesting, maybe?" And not drugs, she thought wryly. She shrugged slightly. "It did, and does, but he knew what he was doing when he made those decisions. We fought about it a lot for a few years." It wasn't until later that they'd started getting along better. "Sure," she said agreeably. "I'm in for assault in the first."
Snorting a short laugh at those questions, Eric shook his head, lifting a hand to run through his hair. “Dunno, didn’t really think I’d ever have a chance. I was staring at over twenty years in a cell, so...” He trailed off, shrugging. He quirked a brow at her explanation and then answer, trying to connect the dots to a sister who fought with her brother over his landing in prison repeatedly to ending up there herself for assault. “Yeah, my parents pretty much wrote me off when I was arrested. My sibs stuck by me for the most part, but over the years we’ve kinda drifted. To be expected, I guess, but it still sucks.” Especially since they’d accepted him even once learning about his bisexuality. “Assault though... Guessing that if you gave your brother such a hard time, whoever you assaulted must’ve deserved it?” he questioned curiously.
"Well, you know if you get out of this place, you'll have the chance to. Even if not, well, there's always correspondence programs. Always good to keep the mind active, at least in my book." Though not everyone thought that way, she knew. She sighed and wrinkled her nose. "That sucks, though I'm not terribly surprised. I was lucky that my dad visited as much as he did." Which hadn't been a ton. Her mother had only turned up once or twice. Her smile turned a little sharp at the question, though she didn't realize it. "You could say that. Guy was the one who raped me. He got off for it."
“Yeah, I know. Not like you have to go to school to learn shit, though. Been reading and stuff, keeping it active that way,” he replied easily, not getting defensive in the least. Maybe someday he would think about going back to school, but right now he was more than happy to just live in the moment. “Eh, it is what it is. Had more to do with my sexuality than that I was dealing,” he admitted. Not that they’d approved of the drugs, but still. He didn’t think it made any sense to essentially disown your son just cause he has sex with men. Eric frowned at Carmel’s answer, pushing back the instinct to ask her if it had actually happened or if she’d cried wolf. God knew he didn’t need to cast suspicion on himself, and he did know that rape happened and would never want to minimize the experience of a true victim. “The system fucks up a lot,” he said, leaving it at that.
"Yeah, I know. But you do if you want to use it later on, which is a possibility." Even if he had been looking at twenty years, really. She wrinkled her nose again. She might not always be comfortable with homosexuality, but she tried not to judge anyone. "That sucks. I'm sorry," she said simply and honestly. She nodded sharply. "It does, and buying your way out is even worse," she said, making an effort not to seem ruffled. Or too ruffled, at least. "He got what was coming to him for it." Probably wished now he'd chosen to go to jail.
Eric just really wasn't thinking that far ahead yet. The thought of starting over, getting a degree and becoming a productive member of society in that way? It just hadn't seemed like a possibility, and now that it seemed like it might be - well, he just hadn't wrapped his head around all the possibilities yet. "Yeah, guess so. Guess I should probably start considering it, then, huh?" he quipped lightly with a little crooked grin. He shrugged at the apology. "Is what it is. My father couldn't stand the possibility that I might not end up with a woman, and my mother followed his lead. Twenty-first century and homophobia is still at large. It's pretty sad." Though she didn't seem entirely comfortable with the idea either - but at least she wasn't shunning him and calling him a faggot. "Well fuck. That's too bad. But at least you found some justice anyway?" he suggested questioningly, not really sure if she saw it that way since she'd landed in prison for it.
"It is. One should always try to keep an open mind. I try, though I know I have my failures," she said easily enough, shrugging slightly. Though she hoped she succeeded more often than she failed. "I think it comes easier when one has been discriminated against, honestly, though I have also known minority bigots, of course." Sometimes it went rampantly in the other direction, just like anything could. "Still, it sucks for you, I'm sorry." It was a repetition, but one she felt she should make but she wasn't going to belabor it either. "I dated a white guy once. Yeah. He couldn't take the fallout, I felt horrible for him." She shrugged. It was what it was, and she'd found Franklin some time after that. "So long as people aren't hurting other people, I don't care what happens, really." Her smile was sharp and slightly cool again, something she couldn't seem to help with this topic most of the time. "I did. He won't ever be doing it again, to anyone." At least not naturally, anyway.
“That’s only human,” he said, brushing it off with a faint grin and a shrug. It was different, though, when it was your own parents, but he tried not to dwell on it. “Eh, don’t sweat it. You just have to move on, right? Supposed to be getting a clean slate with this whole thing, anyway. That’s what the mission statement says,” he said with a small chuckle. He really wasn’t sure what he believed about this whole program, but if he could get out much earlier than his twenty years still left on his sentence? Then he’d be willing to do just about anything to get it. He could understand her comparison; interracial relationships were still pretty taboo in some places and families. “That’s not a bad attitude to have. Life should be about having fun, enjoying things and people, right? And just cause something isn’t one person’s flavor doesn’t mean it’s wrong for everyone, as long as everyone’s consenting,” he elaborated on her own statement. When she responded with that sharp, cool smile and the words that took him a moment to understand the hidden meaning in them, Eric’s brows rose in surprise. “Well shit,” he uttered, resisting the urge to cover his own crotch protectively.
"Yeah. It's thinking about the future that's for us now, like you said, according to everything the admins have said so far." Even if she sometimes had her doubts about said administration's efficacy and common sense. Her lips pursed slightly at those thoughts. "Take everyone as they come, try not to judge anyone, and try not to hurt anyone either," she said with an affirming nod. "It's all good so long as no one gets hurt." Unless they wanted to be hurt, and she totally wasn't touching that topic with a forty-foot-pole. She nodded again as she saw him wince, making an effort to banish the cool smile from her face. It disturbed her, that she could feel no true remorse over it, even if she wasn't entirely sure she'd do it over again. But knowing herself? She probably would. She held grudges like that sometimes.
It seemed like they were of similar minds with things, which made Eric think that hanging out with her would be good times. He was all about having a good time, even when it was just innocent. “Right, exactly,” he agreed. And it was too bad when people regretted having a good time and screwed their partner over afterward. But he wasn’t thinking about that just then. “Well,” he began, lifting a hand to run it through his hair. “I think I’m gonna go ahead and look for a book now, but I’ll see you around. And yeah, definitely let me know when you want company in the kitchen for those cookies.”
"All righty," Carmel said with another smile. "It was good to have met you, Eric. Do come around the kitchen often, and I'll be sure to holler at you about the cookies sometime soon," she told him. "I'll see you around." She should get to looking for something to read as well. It really was a good day for it.