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Jaime Elizabeth Davies (finder) wrote in silverage,

Jaime grinned when he looked, and wondered if he was the sort to look too if she were to start focusing on the ceiling like she was tracking a fly. It was her favorite thing to do, for reasons known only to her, but everyone at the mansion already knew better than to look when she started doing that.

“Yeah? Want to talk about it? I could give you a massage,” she offered, waggling her brows some. “I’ve had training.” Well, sort of. Between books and classes -- such as they were -- she at least had the basic idea of it.

She shook her head to his question. “I probably should. Thank you, by the way, for not asking if I’m still in high school.” She looked it, and she knew she did, but she didn’t like people thinking she was that young. “But no. I’m kind of bouncing around life at the moment. I work a couple of part time jobs, saving up money though … for what, I don’t know yet.

“I’ve been thinking about moving into the city, because it’s where all the action is, but … going from paying no rent to paying any rent is not high on my list of wants right now. So I’d have to find a job here. Like an actual job, not … what I’m doing now, screwing around and whatnot. Then I’d have to find people to live with, and it just seems like a hassle to avoid a few hours on a train every weekend.”

She sipped her drink and shrugged. “Besides, I don’t actually know for sure what I want to do yet. Career-wise, I mean. The options for girls are so … limited.”