Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was Vinnie’s 18th birthday tomorrow, and she wasn’t looking forward to it.

Sure, she had made friends during her stay in foster care, and yeah, she might miss them, but the real thing nagging her all night was What now?

She didn’t know what happened to children who aged out of foster care. Do they just kick them out into the streets? Vinnie could handle that. She had run that race before, and though the odds weren’t stacked in her favor for round two (most folks in the neighborhood knew her schemes already), Vinnie could do it. She had done it before. For nearly 9 years.

(She would never admit this out loud, but comparing life on the streets to life in foster care was a decision she should be able to make in a heartbeat.)

This is what kept her biting at her nails in her bunk. The spring mattress creaked below her as she shifted her weight to stare at the wall, where she had hung a small crayon drawing one of the younger kids’ made for her. It showed two stick figures with triangles for bodies smiling. Neither of them had hair, but they were labeled with names. Vinnie and Anna. There was a sun in the corner of the paper, and a hill in the distance, and on the hill was a little square with a triangle on top labeled HOUSE and next to the house was a peculiar shape labeled CAR, and suddenly Vinnie was crying. It wasn’t crying crying, but a tear rolled over her nose ridge and onto her pillow as she stared at the drawing.

Vinnie wiped her face, took the drawing off the wall, and rolled over. Reaching under her pillow, she retrieved a smushed granola bar. Vinnie sat up in her bunk, leaning forward so she didn’t hit her head, slid her shitty hand-me-down shoes on, and stood up quietly so she didn’t alert her roommates.

She had a plan.

—————————————————————

All things considered, sneaking out of the building was easy. Staying away from the main roads was basically muscle memory. Vinnie strolled down the sidewalk while chewing her granola bar. Most lights weren’t on in the houses she passed, and if they were, the people inside definitely didn’t care what some random kid was doing at midnight as long as they were being quiet.

The second part of her plan was much more difficult.

Vinnie considered hitch-hiking to her destination, but she wanted a more reliable option. Other people are variables she didn’t want to deal with.

Public transportation was also out of the question, considering that it was public, and that she didn’t have money to cover the fare.

So in Vinnie’s eyes, that left two options: Ask Nicely or Steal A Car. She had the experience to know which option would work best.

However, Vinnie had absolutely no clue how to even steal a car. She thought it had something to do with breaking the windows, but from there she was stumped. The only experience she ever had with cars was a short-lived mechanic internship and working the drive-thru at Burger King.

So instead of a car, she settled for something smaller. Bikes were pretty easy to steal, especially if the owner doesn’t want it anymore. 

This is how Vinnie ends up in front of a bright pink bike with streamers coming out of the handles, a basket in the front, and a matching bright pink helmet with a unicorn horn attached. A piece of cardboard in front of the bike declares it FREE.

She couldn’t help but stare. The color of the bike wouldn’t exactly be easy to hide, but she didn’t really have any other options. At least the basket could prove useful, if she had anything to put in it.

Then she had an idea. Her latest foster family hid keys to the house under a potted plant on the porch. If Vinnie ever needed to stop in, she could get the key and come inside. They always said things like that: ‘You’re always welcome here!’ this, ‘We’ll never say no!’ that, but once she told them she sometimes had crushes on girls that sentiment became strained. 

That was irrelevant though, because Vinnie also knew where they kept the car keys.

It was only until she unlocked the door and set the key back in its place did she realize that she could have just come through a window. Whatever, what’s done is done.

The kitchen was very small. A messy rectangular table with five chairs around it sat in the middle of the conjoined dining room, with many paintings and photos framed on the walls. An old-fashioned teapot sat on the stove, but it wasn’t boiling. Vinnie figured Mary– the head of the household and chronic tea-drinker– probably left it there after she was finished pouring a cup. An opened paint can sat in the corner, although it didn’t match the color of the wall. 

The kitchen island was where Vinnie knew Mary left the keys. She eventually found them on the corner, hissing out a small, “Yesssss.”

“Vinnie, dear? Is that you?” Vinnie jumped at the sound of Mary’s voice. She sounded like she was in the living room, which was out of sight enough that Vinnie could easily make her way back out the front door. She quickly, yet carefully, moved toward it, before she thought otherwise. Wouldn’t Mary hearing Vinnie without reason harbor more suspicion than if she explained herself?

Vinnie slowly turned around and walked to face Mary, who was sitting on the loveseat, cradling a cup of tea. Her hair was tied into a haphazard bun, strands falling onto her tired face. Once she saw Vinnie, she smiled, wrinkles forming around her eyes.

“Well then, it is you. Who would’ve guessed?” Mary’s voice wasn’t accusatory. Welcoming, even. For a moment, Vinnie rethought her plan to run. She could have a cup of tea with Mary, sitting on the loveseat and listening to the radio, and have a moment of peace, if only she wasn’t holding the car keys in her hand behind her back.

“Hey, Mary. Sorry if I w-woke ya.” Vinnie said, keeping her voice level.

“You didn’t, dearie. Want to sit down for a spell?”

“Nah, but thanks. I gotta get going.”

“Why did you stop in, might I ask? Is everything okay?” Her face turned more neutral, and the smallest movement was visible in her eyebrows. She set her teacup down on the side table.

Vinnie spoke quickly, to quell her worries, and to stop her own from forming. “Yeah, everythin’s alright. I just wanted a snack. Gonna walk around town with some friends.”

Mary clapped her hands together with a grin. “You’ve made friends? That’s wonderful, dearie!” Vinnie’s face flushed.

“Of course I got friends!” She pouted, slowly backing up toward the door. “Anyway, anyway, anyway, Mary, it’s been real nice to see you, but I can hear the gang outside waitin’ for me, so I gotta go. Thank you, love you!” Vinnie waved quickly. She was eager to leave.

“Alright, dear. If you ever need anything, you know where the keys are. If not, Trisha will always let you in.” Trisha was Mary’s daughter. She was home all the time.

“Okay, bye!” Vinnie shouted, then shut the door. She leaned against the closed door, slowly sliding down it, and sighed. Mary was probably the best of the family after Vinnie told them she was queer, but conversations always felt a little suffocating. Mary was nice, sure, but she just couldn’t stay with her longer than five minutes.

Vinnie looked at the car keys. She looked at them probably for longer than she should have.

Eventually, she stood up. 

She sniffled, not because she was crying, no, definitely not, it was just cold outside, you know? Yeah.

Vinnie walked toward the van parked in the driveway. It was a 2010 Toyota Sienna. Vinnie didn’t really care what kind of van it was as long as it could get her out of dodge. She pressed a button on the key to unlock it, opened the driver door, sat down, and immediately thought that she should’ve grabbed food before she left. Whatever. She can hit up a McDonalds or something. 

Oh, wait, did she have any money?

Vinnie leaned forward slowly until her head hit the steering wheel. God fucking damnit, she didn’t have any money.

—————————————————————

The good news was that the van had a radio and was nearly full on gas, which was nice.

The bad news was that Vinnie had never driven a car before. She figured out the gas and brake pedal through a bit of nonlethal trial and error in the driveway. She underestimated how much you would have to turn the steering wheel to substantially turn the wheels, and didn’t know what activated the blinker though. Also, this was definitely illegal. In hindsight, there was a lot more bad news than there was good.

Vinnie had gotten out of the driveway just fine, and was slowly inching her way down the street when she wondered if any other kid in the foster house would want to come with her. She didn’t want anyone else on the journey with her, but another pair of hands couldn’t hurt. They could distract folks while Vinnie robbed their purses clean, take over driving when she was tired, order food when Vinnie couldn’t show her face in public. The thought of another person was sounding better by the second.

She couldn’t go back to the foster house though. Vinnie couldn’t walk through those doors again, because she knew if she did, she wouldn’t have the heart to leave again. 

She kept driving, out of town, down a dark concrete road, past a gas station, then finally arriving at her destination: A small suburb just outside of the Big City. Vinnie parked the car in the parking lot of some strip mall that definitely wasn’t open at 2 in the morning.

She needed a place to sleep that wasn’t as obvious as a single van in an otherwise empty parking lot, so she circled around the strip mall and found a comfortable nook between a dumpster and a wall. Vinnie vacantly wondered if there was a public shower nearby as she drifted into sleep.

Chapter Text

Vinnie woke to a rat nibbling on her hair. She quickly shooed it away, sighed, and sat up.

It smelled like shit, which was expected, but after so long of having an actual bed to sleep on had done wonders for Vinnie’s back. Now that she was sleeping behind dumpsters again, her back hurt more than ever. She would probably get used to it again, but she strongly debated sleeping in the van next time. 

Oh shit! Right, the van! She quickly checked to see if she still had the keys and wasn’t pickpocketed in the middle of the night. 

Her face visibly relaxed when she held up the keys. Next step was to determine whether the van itself was still there.

Vinnie circled around the strip mall, noting the position of the sun (pretty high) and the number of cars in the parking lot now (a lot), she figured it was a couple hours before noon. She definitely didn’t mean to sleep in so late. It was a wonder she wasn’t caught. The van was still in the parking lot, which was nearly full to the brim with cars now. She was very careful to not pass by anyone while making her way to the vehicle.

Vinnie remotely unlocked the van, got in the driver’s seat, and nearly gagged as she was immediately bombarded by the smell of lavender and cinnamon. She plugged her nose and looked toward the mirror. Sure enough, a small pine-tree shaped car freshener hung there, attacking her nostrils with its very existence. Vinnie rolled down the window and threw it out.

She got the car going and soon enough, she was out of the strip mall parking lot and leisurely driving down an off-road, making a point to avoid more busy streets. This suburb didn’t look all that interesting, although the walls were stricken with colorful graffiti and the downtown was lively and full of coffee shops. Vinnie found herself slowly driving down the Main Street, looking at the small shops painted bright colors, people milling around inside, walking down the sidewalk. 

It was cozy, and Vinnie was hungry, so she pulled the car into an empty spot. She had to adjust it multiple times, but the van fit nicely. Yesterday, she had eaten lunch and a granola bar later that night. Today, she hadn’t had anything, and it was already noon. She locked the van, pocketed the keys, and looked around, trying not to seem like a street rat who didn’t belong anywhere near here. Vinnie started walking down the sidewalk, passing benches and cafés. The sun beat down on her as she rounded a corner off Main Street. At one point, a kid and his parents walked by her. They were holding towels that smelled like chlorine. Vinnie tried not to stare.

She didn’t like thinking about her birth parents, mostly because they probably didn’t think about her either, so she put those feelings aside for later. They could wait. She kept walking.

Truthfully, Vinnie had no idea where she was going, but she definitely wasn’t going to act like it. So when a worried-looking man came up to her asking, “Hey kid, are you lost or something?”, she was going to lie through her teeth. 

She was going to tell this guy that she knew exactly where she was going, no need to worry, she’s fine. She opened her mouth, and something stopped her. 

No wonder this guy came right up to her when she looked like a tired hobo wandering aimlessly downtown. Vinnie needed a shower, but like hell she was going to admit that to a stranger. So instead, with some quick thinking, she replied,

“Where’s the. Uh. Public pool? I kinda got lost, sorry.” Vinnie put on her best innocent-child act, the one that always got her a dollar or five when she panhandled. 

The man’s face brightened up. Vinnie had guessed there was a public pool nearby, and she was right. He gave her directions to the pool: go straight this way three blocks, turn onto main street, go until you see the Dairy Queen and turn left. She smiled without teeth, thanked him, and briskly followed his directions. Vinnie passed through the same main street she had minutes earlier, and promptly arrived at the public pool. Nestled between a park and a less-than-lively playground, it was a small building with a medium parking lot that wasn’t too full. She went inside, finding a lounge where parents could sit if they didn’t want to watch their kids learn to float on their backs. The actual pool was through a glass door to the right. Vinnie figured that she wasn’t the intended audience for a place like this. The lady at the register knew it too, but tried really hard to act like she wasn’t judging Vinnie’s ratty appearance, even though she definitely was.

“Hello, what can I do for you today?” The lady asked, putting on her best customer service smile.

“Are the showers free to use?” Vinnie tried to seem like she was asking for a friend, even though she obviously wasn’t.

“One use of a public shower costs $8.” She replied.

“Oh, okay.” Vinnie said before quickly getting the fuck out of there.

She still didn’t have any money, and was quickly relearning the hopelessness that comes with the lack. Vinnie felt like curling up into a tight little ball and staying there for a while, but she knew better than to rest. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get back up.

Vinnie walked back the way she came, into downtown, onto Main Street, past the bakeries and college homes, kicking stones as she puzzled how she could get her hands on eight dollars. She could probably panhandle, but that would take a while, and for something like eight dollars? Might as well push that shower to tomorrow night, when the pool is probably closed. And besides, she didn't even know this area that well. Would panhandling or some kind of performance work better? And forget about busking. The only instrument Vinnie could play well enough to get eight dollars before sundown was the drums. When she says drums, she obviously means various buckets, cans, and boxes piled on top of each other, which she hits with her hands or branches

Vinnie tripped over her own feet, and promptly landed squarely on the concrete sidewalk. 

She took a shaky breath, trying not to cry, and got onto her knees, wiping pebbles off her legs and aching hands She wasn't going to fall down again., thinking she should just give up, crawling forward until she got to a bench and, tired, laid down horizontally on it, not caring about her appearance, but she would not cry. She would not cry, because that would mean she’s lost, and coming out of her own thoughts, she finally notices something. A faint melody, not too harsh on the ears, originating from down the street. Surprisingly fast for such a peaceful day. Vinnie found herself standing up and walking toward the noise.

There, on the sidewalk, stood a short blonde boy playing what Vinnie thought was a violin, with a green hat placed in front of him to collect money. There wasn’t a crowd around him or anything, but passer-byers seemed to enjoy the lively song he was strumming, and some gave him their spare change. The boy himself seemed delighted, bearing a smile so wide his eyes were barely visible, and his fingers strummed his violin with a mirthful speed. For a moment, Vinnie couldn't help but listen to the song he was playing, and a moment turned into until the end of the song, and the song after that, until the sky dimmed and washed into vibrant pinks and oranges.

The violinist put his instrument in its case. Then he grabbed the woolen hat, coins clinking as he emptied the contents into his pocket, and put the hat on. He began to walk past Vinnie, but folks didn't usually stick around for more than one song, so he paused, smiled, and offered her a hand.

“Did you like the music?” He asked. Vinnie was almost hesitant to answer him, to interact in any memorable way, but she put her hand up as well and shook his firmly. He winced slightly. Vinnie subconsciously loosened her grip.

“Yeah. Better than- than most buskers I've seen,” She answered truthfully. Vinnie cursed her stutter. The boy smiled.

“Aw, well thanks!” He nearly shouted, with a strange drawl. “I've been practicing that last song for a while now, but not as long as my usual stuff, so I was kinda unsure about it, but it's nice to hear somebody liked it!! Anyway, where are you heading?” He kept his eyes wide, staring up at Vinnie (he was pretty short) like she was his key to success. Shit, did this kid want her to help him off the streets? She looked down at her raggedy clothing. Did this boy seriously think she could help him? Finally looking back up at him, she narrowed her eyes.

“Why, why do you wanna know?” She asked.

“Oh, really, I'm just curious, but I'd like to come with you, you seem nice enough and I think we're of the same feather, y'know?” Christ, does this kid ever stop grinning?

“I don't-don’t know you at all, dude.” Vinnie frowned. “What makes you think you can just come along with me for no reason? That's silly.” The boys eyes widened. Vinnie sighed. “I don't mean to be, like, super mean. Okay, maybe a little mean, but a healthy amount of mean! Christ, Christ, why is this so hard?” She put her hand over her eyes. “Listen, dude, you seem awesome-awesome, but I'm not looking for company. Cool?”

The performance was enjoyable enough, but jeez. The kid was desperate. Vinnies heart ached. She sort of understood that. Even worse, she had wasted the day away listening to fucking music instead of showering like she had planned. All in all, this had proven to be a nuisance and a waste of her time.

“I… Cool.” He avoided Vinnies eyes, instead looking at her right ear. Vinnie gave him a little nod as he shoved his hands in his pockets, clinking the coins as he did so, and Vinnie paused.

Bringing this kid along just for his talent would be an asshole thing to do, but morality did take a backseat when you needed to survive. It did, however, feel like she was breaking some kind of oath she had made with herself: you started this alone, and you will stay alone.

Whatever. Past her could shove it. Vinnie took a deep breath, holding it until her lungs hurt, and turned around towards the boy.

“Hey kid.” He flipped to look at Vinnie so quickly, his beanie nearly fell off. “What's your name?”

“Oh, well my name is Skipp!” Vinnie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, seriously. Had a creative dad.” Skipp smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Who’re you?”

“My name's Vinnie.” Skipp made a pfft! noise and Vinnie put her hands up. “I know right! It's silly, but my parents called me fuckin’ Vinnie. I like it though.” Skipp nodded.

“Yeah, I know whatcha mean.” The pair began walking down the sidewalk side-by-side. Neither really started walking first, it just felt natural.

“So, where ya heading?” Skipp asked, hands folded in front of him.

“I'm headin’ down to- down to the- to the- to- fuck!” Vinnie spat. Skipp flinched, but quickly recovered.

She took a breath through her nose, and answered, “Public pool.”

“Oh, uh, alright. Can I come with ya?”

“You’re already walking with me, dude.” She shrugged.

“So, that’s a yes?”

“Well, I was kinda hoping you could, could, y’know, pay for it.” Skipp tilted his head. “I mean the shower. At the public pool.” 

His eyes widened. “Oh.” Skipp avoided Vinnie’s gaze again, looking anywhere but her. He sighed, eyebrows furrowed. Vinnie thought he was thinking really fuckin’ hard about something. She could already tell he wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows and fun tunes. This was a careful act of deliberation, one he probably knew might help him survive a couple days longer.

The pair stopped walking as cars streamed past them on the road ahead. Vinnie leaned over to hit the walk signal button (or whatever that thing is called). Skipp kicked a pebble.

“...How much is it?” Skipp looked over at Vinnie.

“8$ for one shower.” He frowned. Vinnies heart sank into her stomach, until he looked back at Vinnie, a characteristic smile stretching from ear to ear.

Skipp grabbed Vinnie’s hand, not noticing how she bristled, and beamed. “I can do ya one better. Completely free, but it’s kinda a walk.”

Vinnie made her hand go lax. Skipps eyebrows shot up and he quickly let go. “Aw crud, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s. Whatever.” Jesus, he looks nearly to tears. Vinnie bumped him in the shoulder playfully as they crossed the street. “Now c’mon, show me this free shower.”

The pair turned down the corner, stopping right before crossing a bridge. Vinnie looked over the railing. Below her was a river.

“You- You're fucking kidding.” She turned to Skipp, who didn't look at her. He finished crossing the bridge and gestured for Vinnie to hurry up. “You're kidding!” She yelped as she caught up.

“I'm not!” He sang.

Vinnie took a deep, careful breath as they walked across someone's lawn, towards a well-trodden dirt path that led below the bridge.

“Oh my god. You're not kidding.”

The space below the concrete bridge smelled like alcohol, and was heavily graffitied. Vinnie took a moment to appreciate one of the more artistic pieces: two skeletons playing rock-paper-scissors. Then she looked over to where someone had scribbled a crude stick figure saying something she couldn't quite read, and snickered a bit.

“C'mon already!” Skipp had ran to the edge of the river and was walking up-stream. “You’re the one who wanted a shower, hurry up!!”

“Skipp, this is a fucking river!”

“Mhm!”

“I want answers!!” Vinnie ran after him, nearly tripping on rocks, quick feet splashing in puddles and stamping down grass, uneven grin on her face. Skipp laughed loudly, the sound reverbing through the small canyon they found themselves in.

Skipp took off his shoes and socks, rolled up his pants, and waded to the other side of the river. He gestured for Vinnie to follow, who promptly stepped directly into the stream. She reached the other side, then took her shoes off.

“My socks are all wet now.” She pouted.

“And who's fault is that?” Skipp giggled. Vinnie scooped up some water and threw it towards him. He tried to bat the water away before getting his own handful of water and drenching Vinnies entire head. She yowled.

“Dude, that's so cold!!!” Vinnie shouted before shaking her head wildly, whipping Skipp in the face with her hair.

Skipp laughed. “No duh, Vinnie! Now cut it out, follow me! We're gonna go upstream, and then there's this trail going up that-a-way…” The pair began walking through the shallows, Skipp reciting the route as he pointed ahead. Vinnie eventually zoned out, snapping back to focus when Skipp asked, “Alright?”

“Uh, yeah, alright. Sounds like a plan.” She grinned.

Eventually, Skipp turned right into the underbrush, Vinnie hesitating before following. He led Vinnie to a secluded stream, one that branched off the main river. Skipp had no problem traversing the more rocky area, even barefoot. Vinnie tried to copy his steps, but nearly slipped multiple times.

There was a small rock ledge where the stream turned into an equally small waterfall. Skipp scurried halfway up the ledge, gave up, and sat down on a rock facing away from the waterfall. “I swear I won't turn around, but if it makes you more comfortable I can leave.”

Vinnie frowned. “Yeah, can you just, like, hang out at the end of that trail that led here?” Wait, no, that makes it sound like she wants him around. “I just want some help getting back.” She added quickly.

Skipp flashed her a thumbs-up and walked away.

She sighed. Yeesh, this kid is weird.

The water was cold, and it took Vinnie a bit to get used to it, but once she was done she put her clothes back on (didn't have any others on her: Vinnie cursed herself for the lack of foresight.) and strolled down the trail. Skipp was sitting on a rock, whipping his head around to face her.

“Aight, let's head back.” Skipp announced.

Vinnie tilted her head. “Don't you, you, you want a shower?”

“Nah, I'm good! I don't have a change of clothes anyway.” Skipp looked down at Vinnies attire. “And I guess neither did you?”

“Hey, what happened to heading back, Skipp? C'mon, let's go!”

“Wait up!!”

They took the same path back up to the bridge with little fanfare. About a quarter up the path, Skipp cleared his throat and asked, “So, what brings you here, if I may ask?”

Vinnie turned to look at him. How much did she want to tell him? It seemed only fair that she said a bit about herself, after he showed her the waterfall. Vinnie looked forward, avoiding Skipps gaze.

“I lived in an orphanage, and then I got a car and booked it. Here I am.” She shrugged. Skipp nodded, telling her to continue, but Vinnie didn't want to disclose anything more, so she shrugged again.

“Huh. Well, I've lived here for a looong time, been doin’ pretty good for myself!” Skipp explained. “But you said you have a car, right? Where ya heading?”

“The big city.” Vinnie said immediately.

Skipp simply went Oh, then seemed to think about more, then doubled back. “Wait, why're you calling it the big city? That makes it sound so scary, or… y'know.”

“Well, yeah, but I think it-it makes it sound cool as fuck! Imagine this-” Vinnie put an arm over Skipps shoulder, her other hand making an arch in front of them. “-The Big City.” She said with exaggerated grandiosity. 

Skipp laughed loudly, then mimicked the gesture. “The Big City!”

“Jeez, that does sound stupid, huh.” Vinnie chuckled. She put her hands back at her sides.

“Well, do you just plan on driving outta town now? If you stick around for a bit, there's this really good coffee shop that's sorta cheap! We could share a scone: their scones are amazing by the way. Oh! Or if not the…” Skipp kept talking, with Vinnie sometimes interjecting with questions or just Oh yeah? and Cool, cool. whenever the conversation slowed.

They didn't end up going to that coffee shop, but Vinnie did make a mental note that Skipp liked strawberries, a detail picked up from his rambling.

Instead, they circled back around the bustling shopping mall where Vinnie slept the night before. She pulled out the keys and looked at Skipp.

“Okay, dude. Skipp. Are you really, really sure you want to come with me?”

He hesitated, then simply nodded.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded again.

“I should warn you, I'm- I don't really know what I'm doing.”

Skipp giggled. “Do any of us really know what we’re doing?”

When Vinnie didn’t say anything else, he continued. “I mean, I think I’ve got a good grasp on the, like, general things. But if you asked me what I wanted to do for a job or a living, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” He shrugged.

Vinnie narrowed her eyes, absently twisting the keys around her finger as she thought. The risk of having another person traveling with her was high. What if Skipp stole from her while she was sleeping, busted the car, and left? She peered at him closely. He didn’t seem like the type, but you never knew. She paused to consider the rewards. A helping hand with scams, some company on the long drive, somebody to distract people while she picks their pockets clean. Plus, he had already helped Vinnie.

She took a deep breath through her nose, forsaked all common sense, and led Skipp to the Toyota.

He grinned from ear to ear, pumped his fists, and shouted, “Dibs on shotgun!”

Chapter Text

The engine started smoothly as Vinnie turned the key and repositioned her hands to ten and two. Skipp played around with the radio, turning the knob to a channel playing country. It wasn't folk, but it was close enough, until Vinnie scoffed and changed it to new rock. 

“I'm driving, I choose the music. That's, like, the logic of the universe, dude.” She explained as she drove through the parking lot.

“That's not fair, I don't even know how to drive! Lemme choose the music!” Skipp giggled, before gasping and adding, “Also, I'm the musician!”

“Wait, wait, backtrack. You don't know how to drive?” Vinnie took her eyes off the road for a moment to look at Skipp with confusion.

“Yeah.”

“That's… dude, how old are you? Can you even legally drive?”

“I’m, uh, 20 I think? Somewhere around there.”

“Well, damn. I'm 18 today. That's- hold on.” Vinnie paused, focusing on the road. She put her blinker on, turned out of the lot slowly, and sighed. “Right, cool, that's cool.”

“Wait, you’re 18 today? Oh em gee, happy birthday! Lemme sing you a song. Ahem hem.”

Skipp then proceeded to sing the most ironically terrible rendition of Happy Birthday ever heard or sang by anybody ever, complete with flat notes from his mandolin. 

Vinnie screamed lightly. “Make it stooooooop!” Skipp laughed, absolutely beaming, and twisted in his seat to put the mandolin on the seat behind him after placing it back in its case.

“There, I'm no longer armed.” He joked.

The conversation lulled into silence. Vinnie focused on the road, Skipp looking out at the scenery change from suburb to highway.

“So,” Skipp began, breaking the quiet. “Why are you going into the City? D’you have family there or what?”

Vinnie hummed. “Well, I guess it was an impulse decision. Like, it. It. It was just the closest place, y'know?” She paused. Skipp tried not to fidget too much. “I dunno. I just wanted to leave.”

He nodded and said he understood, even though he really didn't. Skipp had never left the town he was raised in, despite any appeal or daydreams. He leaned his shoulder on the window and propped up his cheek with his hand, and began to imagine. He imagined what Vinnie would look like in the Big City. He imagined what he would sing on the streets: something fast and shanty-like, to match the beats of footsteps passing him. Skipp was sitting on a cardboard box that nearly gave way under him, leg crossed and fingers on the strings, but nobody looked his way. Passerbyers shadows taint the present. It always looped back to this. God damn it.

He opened his eyes again, took a deep breath, and reminded himself where he was. The car hit a rumble patch and the entire car shook. Vinnie cussed lightly and centered the car. Funnily enough, it grounded him.

“Hold on, have either of us eaten anything in a bit?” Vinnie asked. She might’ve just been talking to herself, Skipp couldn’t quite tell, but he figured to answer anyway.

“I had breakfast yesterday.”

“Alright, that’s cool, uh. Ok so, I’m gonna be honest here.” Vinnie frowned lightly. “I didn’t think to bring any money when I got the car, so do you have any money for, like. To get supplies?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah, I’ve got a bit.” He shifted in his seat to root around his pocket before something dawned on him. “Wait, what if there’s some in here? Didja ever look through the car??”

Vinnie gasped, eyes lighting up with opportunity. “Oh shit I didn’t!!!” She muttered breathily before wincing. “Feels like stealing though.”

Skipp was already going through the center storage, and didn’t look up at Vinnie to answer, “I mean, ya already stole the car.” He scooped up albums (Fleetwood Mac, Katy Perry, One Direction) and set them on his lap. At the very bottom of the center storage, Skipp procured a single dime. “And hey, this is all I got. Hoping they won’t miss ten cents.” He shrugged, and Vinnie chuckled.

“Could we just- just- Could we steal some shit from a gas station? I know that, like, some places have cheap sandwiches, stuff like that.” Vinnie gingerly took a hand off the wheel and waved it around vaguely as she talked. Skipp hummed while he thought about it.

“Yeah, probably. Oh! Here! Turn here!”

“Shit- You gotta warn me before we’ve already passed it!” Vinnie yelped. “Fuckin’ hell…” She began to laugh. Skipp felt his face redden with shame.

“Sorry.” He muttered. Vinnie stopped laughing and looked confused, then she let out a silent ooooh.

“No, dude, don’t worry. I was joking, really wasn’t- wasn’t serious.” She looked over to Skipp with a small, vaguely apologetic smile. Skipp laughed and facepalmed himself.

“Now I just feel kinda goofy!” He said once his laughter died down.

“No way, you say shit like- like goofy?”

“It’s a fun word!!!”

“It’s a silly word, that’s what, what, what it is!”

“So I get insulted for saying goofy, but you can call things silly?!”

“Oh shit wait, here’s another station. Hold on, I’ma turn.” Vinnie fell silent as she focused on moving into the turn lane, waiting for a green light, and turning into the gas station parking lot. “Alright, we’re here.”

“Awesome sauce.” Skipp knew the phrase would make Vinnie laugh. Sure enough she did, and Skipp grinned like a buffoon.

“Stop it with your silly vocabary and help me find a pen and paper. I'ma write the list of stuff we're gonna grab.”

“Vocabary?”

“Oy. Vocablary or however however you say that.”

Skipp and Vinnie rooted around the van glove box before settling on reusing a sticky note and a dull pencil. Vinnie stuck the note on the back of her left hand and steadied it on the wheel. “Alright, so what're we, we grabbing?”

“Uhhhhh. Juice?”

“Fuck yes. What kinda juice?”

“Hm. Eh, I dunno. Apple?” Skipp shrugged.

“Ew, why not orange juice?? That's so much better than AJ!”

“Wait no this is stupid! We should be grabbing healthy stuff and supplies and stuff.”

“And stuff and stuff and stuff.” She cackled.

“ :( ”

“Yeah, that's, that's on me. Sorry dude.”

“You're ok!” He gave her a thumbs-up.

“Awesome. Alright, yeah you're probably right about the necessary shit and not OJ. Or-” She shuddered dramatically. “-AJ.”

Skipp listed off items and counted them on his fingers. “We’re gonna want canned things that don't necessarily need to be heated up but taste nice if it is, dried fruit, cereal, gum, peanut butter, hit all those areas.”

“Wait, hold up, gum? Cereal?? Peanut butter?? Why the fuck would, would, would, would. Why’re those what you want???” Skipp glanced over at Vinnie’s face. Even hunched over a sticky note, she was insanely transparent with everything she felt, and it all showed in her expressions. Right now, she was confused, a little annoyed, and looked like her head hurt but not actually. Skipp took a beat to appreciate that before answering.

“Gum is good for your teeth and keeps your breath nice, peanut butter has lots of protein, and cereal helps your digestion. Cereal like Cheerios though, no marshmallows or… I dunno, other stuff like that.” He shrugged before leaning on the center storage and propping up his chin with his hand. “If we can, we should grab basic medication too. Ibuprofen, tylenol, maybe some bandaids.” He momentarily narrowed his eyes. “Wait, gas stations sell bandaids, right?”

“Uhhhhh yeah dude I’m pretty sure. Don’t see why they wouldn’t.” Vinnie scribbled something down with a lazy flourish, whispered, “Ta-da!” and held out the note to Skipp so he could proofread it.

“While you’re going over that, I wanted to- wanted to know what, what, what the game plan is for stealing the shit.” She leaned on the window and made vague motions with her hands. “Like, are we stuffing them in our clothes, running for it, we- what? We gotta be coordinated, you, you know?”

Skipp nodded, then handed the note back to Vinnie. “Yea, that looks good. On that topic…” He answered before turning in his seat and procured his mandolin case. He opened it, set down the mandolin, and looked at Vinnie tellingly, holding the empty mandolin case.

It felt like a personal kind of peoplewatching to see Vinnie’s face change so rapidly. First, mild confusion, followed quickly by realization, pride, thinly masked pride, confusion again, acceptance, then finally settling on a troublemaking grin that would make an aristocrat wrinkle their nose. Skipp thought it was like a performance.

“Shit, Skipp, you’re a genius!!” She yowled before punching him in the shoulder playfully. He winced. “Alright, I’ll stand between you and the cashiers so they can’t see you! How does that sound?”

“Sounds good, but also warn me if anyone’s coming our way, aight?”

Vinnie nodded, grinning ear to ear. “Alright! Let’s do this.” She put out her hand for a fist bump.

Hell yes. Skipp took it.

The pair got out of the van, stepped into the gas station, and immediately got sidetracked by the columns of pre-made dinners. Things like pizzas, cheeseburgers, macaroni and cheese. Vinnie found two cheese-filled breadsticks while Skipp held up a container of mashed potatoes and gravy. The pair fussed around with which ones to take and which to leave until they both remembered their original goal.

Skipp beelined it to the bathroom to check for any windows or openings. First thing he noticed was how terribly it smelled, then he surveyed the room, and didn't find any openings. Skipp huffed, but he knew this was only one plan they had (I mean, it wasn't like they were super prepared, but they had more than one plan).

He left the bathroom and immediately felt cleaner.

Vinnie was milling around the energy drink section, making a show out of trying to choose. Skipp tapped her on the shoulder and shook his head slightly. She sighed, but in the way that made your lips make a funny sound kinda like an engine revving.

“Alright, so out the front?” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder towards the door.

Skipp nodded and made a shoosh motion. Vinnie frowned, but also nodded.

Trying his best to be discreet, Skipp took a half-step towards Vinnie and whispered, “Find the camera,” before pretending to look for his own energy drink.

In the reflection of the glass door, Skipp watched as Vinnie turned around and looked down at the aisle behind them. He wondered if Vinnie hadn't known what he meant, and was going to turn around to correct her when she tapped him on his left shoulder and whispered, “It's near the front. I can block it while you get shit.”

He must've looked confused, because Vinnie muttered, “I was looking through my hair to make it less obvious.”

Skipp made a silent “Oh.” Vinnie giggled.

—

Skipp strolled out of the gas station casually, lugging his mandolin case along at his side. Vinnie had stayed inside a little while longer to hopefully avoid suspicion. She had given him the keys to the car.

He waltzed up to the van and clicked the key fob to unlock the passenger door, swung his mandolin onto the driver's seat, and sat down in one fluid motion. After closing the door, he couldn’t help but pump his fists and holler with victory. 

Eventually, he was able to calm down enough to survey the items in his case. He and Vinnie had come out of the gas station with three packets of Band-Aids, five small cups of Cheerios, two packets of gum (one for each of them), a container of peanut butter, and a single bundle of bananas.

Skipp grinned like a little kid opening his Christmas presents, threw their spoils into the backseat, twisted around uncomfortably to retrieve his mandolin, and strummed out something nice while waiting for Vinnie.

Once she opened the driver’s side door, she frowned jokingly and handed Skipp his mandolin case. “Keep your shit to yourself,” She laughed. 

Skipp giggled and gestured to the backseat. “Seems like it was worth it though.”

Vinnie gasped. “Fffffuck yes, Skipp! Good job!!” She gave Skipp a fistbump before climbing over the seats to get to a cup of Cheerios. “Don’t mind if I do.”

“Sure, but only if you share with me.”

“Oh boo, no way way I’m doing that.” Vinnie complained as she set the cup between the two. Skipp reached for it to no resistance.

“So Vinnie, where to now? Are we going into the…” He tried not to laugh. “...The Big City?”

Vinnie poked a finger at Skipp and grinned. “I swear, one day you’ll- you’ll see how amazing that name is and you’ll be sooo sad you ever made fun of it.” She turned the keys and put the van into reverse. “But yeah, that’s the plan.”

Vinnie continued as she backed up the van. “I’m thinking of taking back roads to avoid busier shitshows, but it’ll probably take longer. Are you, you alright with that?”

Skipp gave her a thumbs-up and replied, “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Coolio.” She wrapped up the conversation. Skipp turned on the radio. The current station was playing ads, so he put it back to the country station, which was also playing ads. He sighed lightly and set the radio to a generic Greatest Hits station. It was playing Queen.

The drive was comfortable. Skipp plucked chords while Vinnie drove, both of them occasionally picking grains of cereal out of the cup (which had been placed in the cupholder). Vinnie started off driving at a slow, leisurely pace, but had gone faster over time. The only other cars they ever saw were parked in the driveways of cookie-cutter houses they passed.

Skipp was looking down at his mandolin when Vinnie spoke up. “Yo, there’s someone on the side of the road.” He looked up and sure enough, a tired-looking man was staggering near the street. He was holding a half-empty bottle.

Without any other notice other than a small sway, the man fell face-first into the road. Vinnie yelled, “Holy fuck!” and snappily swerved away from him, slamming on the breaks. Skipp felt a grain of cereal hit his cheek as he kept a death-grip on his mandolin.

The car stopped moving. For a long moment, nobody made a move.

“...Holy fuck.” Vinnie muttered, opening the car door. Skipp followed her over to the man, who was still laying on the concrete. He tentatively stepped forward, knelt down, and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Uh, hello?”

He only replied with a groan. The bottle he was holding had spilled when he fell, and was forming a small puddle next to his head, making strands of his hair wet. It smelled like alcohol. Skipp wrinkled his nose and nudged the bottle out of the man’s hand.

“‘Scuse me sir, are you alright? Do you need help?” Skipp asked. He looked over to Vinnie. “I think we should get him in the van.”

Vinnie, who was previously staring at the ground, snapped up to stare at Skipp, looking baffled. “Dude, no. You don’t put an obviously. obviously. obviously…” She took a deep breath. “A drunk person in your car! That’s fucked. No.”

Skipp shrugged, panic edging into his voice despite his best attempts to hide it. “Well, we can’t just leave him in the road!”

Vinnie looked back at the man, and Skipp followed her gaze. He was holding his head, and although his black hair was falling into his face, his shoulders hitched. Skipp looked to Vinnie with a pleading expression. Her own face softened before she pinched her nose ridge.

“Jesus Christ, fine. But once he sobers the fuck up we’re kicking him out, alright?” With that ultimatum, Vinnie helped the man up. “What’s your name, dude?”

He looked at Vinnie with glazy eyes. “Ssssduuuhne.” He slurred.

“Alright Sduhe, we’re gonna put you in here until you can speak clearly. Cool?” She held up a thumbs-up, easily holding him up with only one arm. Skipp opened the backseat door.

He nodded before passing out.

Chapter Text

Vinnie set Sduhe into the backseat while Skipp attempted to help. Sduhe’s head knocked against a cup of Cheerios.

Skipp wagered a glance at Vinnie. She looked upset, her eyebrows furrowed and scrunched up. Skipp felt his face fall, but promptly fixed it as he closed the door and opened his own.

His thoughts moved to something darker. The neighbors had reported them to the police for kidnapping and they were all sentenced to death, Vinnie’s already had her last meal, Skipp hides in the corner and doesn’t watch. He unrolled the van window in case he was going to be sick.

“Shit. How are we going to, to do this…” Vinnie was obviously talking to herself. Skipp didn’t answer. Vinnie continued, “We’ve got a passed-out drunkie in the back and no way to– oh God, what if he’s dead?! Skipp we we didn’t just grab a dead person did we??!” She turned to Skipp with a frantic edge seeping into her voice. His eyes widened and moved to put a hand on Vinnie’s shoulder, but hesitated, instead gesturing to their passenger.

“He’s not dead! Look, he’s obviously breathing!” He turned her attention to Sduhe. The pair watched him in silence, waiting for definitive proof that he was breathing.

It was shallow and affected, but Sduhe was breathing. They both let out a sigh they were holding. Truth be told, Skipp was convincing himself as well.

“Okay. Okay.” Deep breath. Skipp focused on his lungs expanding. “Okay. He’s alive. He’s just taking a nap. Cool.”

Vinnie chuckled, running a hand through her hair. “Awesome sauce.”

Skipp laughed suddenly and brightly, and reached for his mandolin, which he had placed on the dashboard after the car stopped moving. On this train of thought, he looked out the window. “Awesome sauce, yeah, but we’re in the middle of the street.” He situated his hands to play something more relaxed before thinking of something else to say. “Also we should get some water. For him and us.”

“Shit, yeah. Alright, uh…” Vinnie looked out the window towards the near-identical houses. Skipp raised a brow but didn’t ask.

“There we go!” Vinnie briefly started the van, only to pull it to the side of the road and hop out. Skipp stayed in his seat as Vinnie made her way to the side of a house. She looked at something Skipp couldn’t see before she trotted back to the van grinning like a fool.

“C’mon, bring him out! They have a hose!”

“Oh, alright!”

He did a double-take. “...Wait, no, what?”

Vinnie pulled open the backseat door and was dragging Sduhe out. “I would do this all the time at Mary’s! She had a gardening hose and I would always drink water from it during the summer cause it got, like, really hot. Water makes people sober, right?” She had successfully pulled a waking-up Sduhe out of the van and looked up at Skipp with big eyes and a wide yellow smile.

“What’s Marys?” Skipp asked as he walked around the van. He braced Sduhe, who was blinking slowly.

Vinnie seemed to tense. She looked down at her shoes. “None of your business.”

With that, the air filled with an awkward silence. It felt like both of them had so much to say, but neither could find the courage to say it. The pair helped Sduhe to his feet and wobbled across the lawn to the hose. Skipp turned the knob to turn the hose on. It was stuck, rusted over no matter how hard he pulled. Vinnie papped his hand away and turned the knob herself.

At this point, Sduhe had fully woken up. Skipp watched as he shook his head to get the hair out of his eyes and groaned.

“Shit… Euurghh.” Sduhe vocalized.

Vinnie looked over to him, then grinned. “Well good morning, sleeping beauty! Here, have a drink.” She motioned to the hose, which was currently spilling water into the lawn. Skipp picked it up and held it to Sduhe.

Sduhe recoiled from the hose and made a noise between a bomb hissing and a smoke detector. Skipp moved the hose down, accidentally splashing Sduhe for a moment.

“Hmm. Maybe he, like, thinks it's poisoned?” Vinnie pondered before grabbing the hose from Skipp and taking a swig.

“See? It's all good.” Skipp told Sduhe, although truth be told, Skipp was fairly sure Vinnie could drink poison and survive, so he also drank some.

That seemed to be enough proof for Sduhe. He grabbed the hose tightly and held it to his mouth for an uncomfortable amount of time. Vinnie rocked on her feet and looked up at the sky. Skipp whistled and fidgeted with his thumbs.

“Bluhh.” Sduhe groaned as he stopped drinking. “Jesus. Ffffuck.” He rubbed his face. Skipp thought he looked really stupid.

“Hey buddy. Uh… how are you?” Skipp asked tentatively. Sduhe swiveled around to face him, squinting and looking really upset. Skipp shrunk into himself a little.

“Uuuuuggggh. No. No no.” Sduhe shook his head and held it at the same time. “Fuck this. Nooo.”

Skipp frowned, looking wide-eyed at Vinnie, a silent question of What do we do?

Vinnie shrugged and mouthed Fuck if I know.

Skipp pantomimed to Sduhe holding his head and groaning in pain. Well we should do something, he's hurt!

Vinnie exaggerated her face and shrugged twice so Skipp knew how serious it was. She leaned over Sduhe and peered at him quizically. “What’s going on? Where are you hurt?”

Sduhe curled into a little ball and covered his eyes. “FFFFFfffuck…”

A lightbulb went off somewhere in Skipp’s head, and he lightly slapped himself with the realization. “Ugh, Vinnie, it’s the light! It’s too bright for him probably.”

“Ooooh shit yeah. That does make sense.” She scratched her head. “Alright…” Vinnie stared at Sduhe for a long moment before pointing to his torso. “Let’s cover up his face with that ugly ass coat! Problem solved.”

“Hmm, maybe not. That might get in the way of his breathing or something.” Skipp pinched Sduhe’s sleeve, trying to get his attention. “Hey, uh, Sduhe? Can we borrow your coat?”

Sduhe continued to be curled up in a ball. Skipp shared a look with Vinnie. She had an exasperated face.

“Okay, y’know what…” Vinnie leaned down and grabbed Sduhe by the waist and slung him over her shoulder. “You’re gonna go in the van, alright?” She strolled to the Toyota casually, Skipp trailing along behind her, completely unsure if this was the right thing to do. Once again, the pair found themselves bringing a drunk person into their car. Skipp groaned, dragged a hand down his face, and fought a yawn as he watched Vinnie rudely shove Sduhe into the backseat and wrestle him out of his overcoat. As Skipp caught up, he heard Vinnie muttering to herself.

“M’kay, now we gotta… put the thing on the thing. Somehow.” She frowned, turning the coat over in her hands. Skipp couldn’t help but notice how calloused they were.

“What are ya trying to do?”

“I’m trying to figure out how to, how to, how to get the sun out of this dude’s sensitive peepers.”

“Oh my god, sensitive peepers???”

“Shut the fuck up man!” She playfully swiped Skipp’s shoulder. “But yeah, any ideas?”

“Uhhh. Can we cover up a window with it?” He poked at the left backseat window.

“Shit, maybe. Here, lemme do this.” Vinnie handed Skipp the coat, climbed into the driver’s seat and rolled down the window. “Alright, put it in there and then I’ll roll up the window and it’ll be stuck in there!”

“Oooh, nice!” Skipp did so, putting the majority of the coat inside the car because he didn’t want it to fly away. Holding it in place with one hand, he gave Vinnie a thumbs-up. She rolled up the window and the coat stuck in place, providing Sduhe the shade he apparently needed.

“Problem solveeeed.” He spoke with a Noir accent before breaking into a fit of giggles and crawled into shotgun.

With Sduhe situated in the back of the van, Vinnie put her feet up on the dashboard, crossed her arms behind her head, and closed her eyes. “Fuck was he drinking that was, was so strong anyway…” She trailed off.

At this point, Skipp could tell the difference between the This-Was-A-Question-I-Was-Too-Scared-To-Ask-Directly trailing off moments and the Wait-What-Was-I-Saying-Again trailing off moments. This was the first option.

After a beat of thinking, he responded, “I dunno, but I don’t really wanna find out.”

She opened her eyes and blinked at the roof. “Nah, I mean, we don’t have to drink it ourselves to find out! We could just. we could just ask him, y’know?”

“Oh yeah.” He responded in a wispy voice. Turning to the backseat, Skipp frowned as he saw his mandolin case at Sduhe’s feet, in just the perfect position to make it impossible to grab it without disturbing him. Whatever. He buckled up: safety was always the priority. “Still though, you're not gonna start stealing drinks, right?”

Vinnie tilted her head towards him, her bandana loosening with the motion. “Unless it's got some hidden fuckin’ health benefit you'll tell me suddenly, no, probably not.”

“Okay. Cool.” Skipp answered awkwardly, turning away from her and leaning on the seatbelt strap.

—

“Okay, truth or dare.”

“Mmm, dare.”

“I dare you toooo… lick the window!”

“Ew, no!!”

“Dared you, dude. No takesies-backsies.”

“Eugh, fine, but if I get sick and DIE because of you you'll be hearing from my lawyer.”

“You don't have a fuckin lawyer, Skipp!” Vinnie laughed fully.

“Well I'll get one just to see you!”

“Pretty sure lawyers sue people, but alright.”

“Ok well I'll do that then.”

“Just lick the damn window dude.”

Skipp frowned dramatically, but did his dare. It tasted like shit, but mostly what he expected. Still, he recoiled to play up his reaction. “Ewwwww!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Vinnie. “Why'd you make me do that, dude? That was really gross!”

Vinnie twirled her wrist. “It was really funny though.”

“Yeah, for youuuu!” He now pointed at her with both hands for added emphasis. “You made me lick a damn window for your ooooown amusement like… like some kinda…” Skipp frowned and briefly broke character. “Vinnie help me out here I can’t think of anything.” He whispered quickly.

Vinnie thought about it for a while. “Like a… jester?”

“Oh, yeah! Nice one, nice one.” Skipp put a hand to his forehead dramatically, kicked his feet up on the dashboard, and gave his best damsel sigh.

In the backseat, someone else sighed. Vinnie and Skipp both turned to look at Sduhe, who had finally taken a nap long enough to form coherent sentences. He rubbed his forehead and blinked up at the two staring back at him.

“What the fuck.” Sduhe spoke with the monotone emotiveness of someone used to simplifying their thoughts for other people to get. Skipp also noted that he had a fairly heavy accent, and thought it sounded pretty nice.

“Hey dude.” Vinnie waved. “You were, were. Were… uh. Kinda, like, completely drunk, and you passed out and fell into the road.”

“No one ran you over though!” Skipp added helpfully.

Vinnie gave Skipp a finger gun. “True that. But yeah we didn’t just wan-wanna leave you in the street drunk as shit so we gave you some water–” Skipp and Vinnie had agreed telepathically to keep the origin of the water a secret “–and brought you into our car so you could take a nap!”

Sduhe gawked.

“It seemed more ethical in our heads too, yeah.” Skipp mumbled. “Anyways, I’m Skipp and that’s Vinnie!”

“Damn Skipp, can’t even introduce myself?”

“Oh you’ll live, ya drama queen.”

“Gasp! Drama queen??!” Vinnie glanced at Sduhe. “Ok but seriously, we have a guy in our backseat who… isn’t looking so hot.” She cringed.

Sduhe gawked.

“Oooh, right. Uh, well, if you’d like to look out to your right, you’ll see that we haven’t moved an inch from where we found you! You could get out right now and we’ll never see you again, m’kay?” Only after Skipp said that did he realize it sounded kind of like he and Vinnie wanted him gone, so he added, “If you want. I mean, you could also join us on our sicktastic roadtrip to end all roadtrips.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

Sduhe gawked.

“Hey, uh, you good?” Vinnie leaned around her seat and snapped in Sduhe’s face. He blinked rapidly and stopped gawking so much.

“Wait, Vinnie, do you think he’s hungry?” Skipp wondered, rifling through the front seats for one of their bananas.

“Oh shit, maybe! Yo, Sduhe, are you hungry?”

“...Sduhe?”

Skipp peeled a banana as Vinnie continued. “Yeah, Sduhe! That is your name, right? It’s what you told us when you were– when you were all tipsy, so I’ve been going with it.”

Sduhe(?) lightly facepalmed. “My name is Stone.”

“That really makes a lot more sense, doesn’t it?” Skipp added, though he was a little distracted with peeling the banana. It was being a bit fickle. Before anyone else spoke he was able to peel it, and threw the peel out the window. He had the honors of taking the first bite, then passed it to Vinnie. “I’ve never met someone named Sduhe.”

“Well, I've never met anyone named… Skip?” Stone tilted his head.

“Skipp, actually.”

“That's what I said.”

Skipp waved his hand to dismiss the subject. “It's whatever. How're you feeling?” He leaned over his seat.

“Less of a headache, which is great.” Stone sat rigidly in his seat. Vinnie passed him the communal banana, which he eyed for a moment before looking up at Vinnie. “Don't you have another one I could have?”

Vinnie shrugged. “Yeah, but we're rationing.”

“Ah… ok.” Stone warily took the banana. Skipp giggled.

“It's a banana, it won't hurt you.”

Stone shot him a look. He giggled more, but backed off. Vinnie rolled down her window, swung her arm out of it, and cleared her throat. “So, Sd– Stone. What’s the choice?”

Now that Skipp thought about it a bit more, giving a person a question like this so out-of-the-blue was really unfair. He chimed in, “If you need more time to think, that’s okay too!”

Skipp watched from the front seat as Stone put a hand on his chin, obviously thinking it over. Out of the corner of his eye, someone came out of a house.

Stone hummed. “Well, I probably need more time to think…” He looked out the window and immediately perked up. “...Fuck.”

Skipp and Vinnie both looked back at him with worry as he sputtered, staring out the window at the lady rapidly approaching. Skipp noticed a loose bun, a bottle, and a tired, furious look.

“I, um, fuck, fuck! Drive! Drive!!!” Stone demanded, his voice breaking.

The next few things happened in quick succession. First, Vinnie, without a second thought, slams her foot on the gas. Second, the woman stomping toward the van throws her bottle into the front window, shattering the glass and knocking Skipp hard on the head. Third, Vinnie reactively swerves the wheel to point away from her. And finally, all three errant adults screamed at the top of their lungs.

Chapter Text

The van careened forward wildly. Stone grasped and clawed at air to keep himself steady. He found a handle after a moment or two of panic and braced for impact.

With his eyes closed, he felt as Vinnie sharply turned again, just as fast as before. She was still screaming.

Skipp, on the other hand, was worryingly quiet. Stone opened his eyes slightly to make sure he wasn’t out cold or something else. He wasn’t, eyes fixed ramrod straight ahead on the road, holding onto his own grab handle with white knuckles.

Vinnie hurtled the van forward, and Stone was thrashed against the window. He took the opportunity to watch the lady get further away. God, she looked furious. Stone nearly called for Vinnie to stop so he could get out and apologize to his mum, but the pragmatic part of him shut down the idea quickly. He didn’t have any of his supplies, but at this point having no plan was better than staying there.

Stone refocused on the vehicle. It was fairly obvious that Vinnie had no idea where she was going, and was running off of sheer panic. Stone let go of the grab handle, leaned forward between Vinnie and Skipp (some part of his mind recognized that he wasn’t buckled up), and began shouting the directions to the nearest gas station.

“Left! Okay, straight for three blocks! …Left again, quick right quick right!!” 

At some point during the stressed drive, Skipp snapped out of whatever daze he was in and began hooting and hollering with a sort of manic excitement. It was unsettling, yet exhilarating, and made the entire sequence feel like something straight out of an action movie.

When Vinnie pulled the wheel into a hard-right, the entire car bumping as it went up a gradual slope, she let out an audible sigh of relief. She leaned back into her seat, dragging her hands down her face.

Skipp, on the other hand, was giddy with adrenaline. His left hand hung in front of him, and his right was pressed against his head. He was still giggling a bit.

Stone decompressed. He took a couple deep breaths before sighing.

Vinnie whipped around in her seat. “What the fuck was that??!” She nearly shouted the words at Stone. Barely pausing for breath, she continued, “Who the fuck was that?!”

Stone twitched. After coaching her through a really fucking stressful three minutes, this was how she responded? “That!” He started, gusto dying down as quickly as it came. “Was, uh. My mum.”

“Your mom's a fuckin’ psycho!” She snapped, gesturing to Skipp. “Who throws fuckin’ bottles at people??”

She does, Stone thought, but that was way too smartass of an answer. Instead, he redirected to Skipp. “Wait, is he alright?”

Vinnie looked exasperated before she paused and cringed. “Yeah, uh, Skipp, you good?”

Skipp gave her a twitchy thumbs-up.

“Oh, he's so not good.” Stone mumbled.

Skipp insisted he was fine with another thumbs-up, before opening the car door, making it a couple steps, and then vomiting onto the sidewalk.

Vinnie and Stone quickly followed, opening their doors and helping him with worried glances. 

Stone blinked, realizing something. “Oh dammit. He's concussed.”

Vinnie frowned and knitted her eyebrows. “Shit.”

“Let’s, uh…” Stone looked around with a frantic twinge in his eyes. He needed somewhere for Skipp to rest, lay down or something. “D’you see a bench anywhere?” Vinnie mumbled something which Stone couldn't hear before pointing to a bench right in front of the gas station.

Stone and Vinnie (mainly Vinnie) helped a drowsy Skipp move to the bench, sitting him down on one side. The bench had one of those bars in the middle, sort of like an airplane seat. Vinnie takes the other half, leaving Stone to awkwardly stand on Skipp’s other side.

They idle for a while. Stone fetches a pack of cigarettes and a matchbook out of his pocket, lighting the cigarette and holding it in his mouth. Vinnie glances at him, and he passes it over wordlessly. Skipp doesn’t seem to register the smell.

“So,” Vinnie starts as she hands the cigarette back.

“So.” Stone replies.

“Wanna start talking about it?”

“No.” He answers in a heartbeat.

“You sure?”

Stone pauses. “...No.”

“Alright.” Vinnie shrugs. She gets up, casually walks to the van, opens the door, reaches in, and comes back out with a cup of cereal. Stone blinked. He’d never seen cereal in a cup before.

Vinnie sits down again and offers him the cup. He takes it and has a couple before giving it back.

Skipp slowly blinks his eyes open. He squints at Vinnie as Stone watches him carefully. Vinnie holds out the Cheerios, and he gladly nabs a few before muttering, “Thanks.”

“Hey, Skipp,” Stone starts. Skipp slowly turns to face him. “You’re, uh, concussed.”

Skipp frowns. “Noooooo.”

Vinnie nods and Stone continues, “Yeah.” He pauses. “D’you smoke?” He holds out his cigarette. Skipp stares at it for a long while before shaking his head lightly. Stone nods and brings it back to his mouth while Skipp curls up into a ball on the bench, crossing his arms over his knees to cover his face.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on dude?” Vinnie leans on the bench’s bar.

Skipp groans. “I hate concussions.”

“I think we all do,” Stone chimes in.

Vinnie frowns at Stone before turning back to Skipp. “D’you think you’re good to move back into the car?”

Skipp groans and nods into his arms. Stone and Vinnie immediately move to support him.

…Why was Stone so willing to help these people? Maybe it was the guilt of making them take care of him and deal with his mum. Hell, they nearly ran him over and then helped him through a hangover. Maybe he really was just that desperate for a way out. 

Maybe… Maybe he actually did care about them, outside of all that. Whatever his dumb fucking illogical reasoning was, as he helped pull a clumsy Skipp into the backseat, he realized that he was too far in to leave without a weight of guilt in his stomach.

As Skipp pulled the backseat door closed, Vinnie sighed and turned to enter the driver’s seat, but Stone stopped her. “Oh hell no, you’re not driving.”

Vinnie looked up at him, eyes lighting up with indignation. “And why- why- why not?”

“Your hands are shaking.” He pointed down at her hands. Even at her side they trembled lightly.

“I–” Vinnie started, before pulling back and looking away. “Alright.”

Stone nodded. “Cool. I’ll drive.” He said before climbing into the driver’s seat with Vinnie taking shotgun.

As he turned the keys, the radio blared to life, blasting the 90’s greatest hits. In the back, Skipp groaned. Stone lowered the volume to just barely audible.

Stone moved the van slowly out of the parking lot, muttering to Vinnie, “So where are we going?”

“Um…”

“Home.” Skipp chimed in. Vinnie glanced at Stone with a look that conveyed plenty about Skipp’s idea. That being it was shit.

“Somewhere for Skipp to rest, and hopefully somewhere closer to the city?” Vinnie muttered to herself, seeming lost in thought. 

Stone nodded and turned towards the highway. With one hand on the wheel, he reached into his coat pocket and fished out two crumpled dollars. He set them on the dash before switching hands and finding a quarter in his other pocket. “Here’s all I got on me.”

Vinnie opened the center compartment and retrieved a dime. “I don’t think that’s enough for a bed…” She frowned, turning back to Skipp, covering her mouth with a hand as she thought. “D’you think we could just, just let him sleep back there?”

“Hmm, Skipp?” Stone called back.

Skipp hummed.

“Would you be alright sleepin’ back there?”

Skipp gave a weary nod. Stone turned to the road just in time to see he had run a stop sign. Whatever.

Now Vinnie had turned to talk to Skipp. “D’you know anywhere you could sleep for free? Or for…” She counted up the money on the dashboard. “Two dollars and thirty… thirty-five cents?”

“Ehhhhh…” Skipp narrowed his eyes, staring straight up at the roof of the van. “Maybe? There’ss a place I think… Where are we?”

Stone glanced to the road sign. “Johnson Way.”

“Uhh. Near?”

“I think we’re close to that bigass park.” Vinnie chimed in, waving her hand in the vague direction of the aforementioned park.

Skipp grinned. “Ok that helps. Yeahhh, uh, from here gooo. Right i think?” In the mirror, Stone watched as Skipp sat up, bracing himself on his right arm, faced the front of the car and held out his left hand in the shape of an L. “Yeah it’s right.”

—

Stone pulled the van into the driveway Skipp remembered, turned the keys out and rounded to Skipp to help him out. 

Vinnie looked around skeptically. “This just looks like a house, dude.”

“It’s alright! Theresa lives here, it’s her place.” Skipp began his wobbly journey to the front door, one hand blocking the sun from his eyes, one arm over Stone’s shoulder for stability.

“Who is– who the fuck is… OK, sure.” Vinnie pinched her nose bridge. Maybe she needs a nap too, Stone thought, pretty much tired of it and everything.

Skipp knocked on the door to the tune of Shave and a Haircut. The trio stood there for a long moment, waiting tensely. 

Eventually, a tall woman with a jade green collared shirt and a practical bun answered them. A nametag on her chest read Theresa.

“Oh, hey Skipp!” She spoke casually. “And who are y’all? I’ve never seen you two here before.”

Skipp gave her a light smile. “They’re my friends Vinnie and Ski– Stone. Hehehe, I almost said my own name!” He giggled. It would be infectious if he wasn’t very obviously concussed.

Theresa laughed a bit, then studied Skipp a bit closer. She pursed her lips, and stepped aside for the three to come in. “You doing alright? You’re not looking the best, honestly.”

Skipp and Theresa continued to talk, but Stone tuned them out in favor of learning the layout around him. In the hallway, a podium akin to a restaurant was placed. It had an excessive amount of papers placed on it which he didn’t bother to look too closely at. Not when other people were around: he’d wait for the area to clear out before snooping. Let’s see, other details: The walls were painted a light purple, periwinkle if you wanted to get really specific, and the ceiling was the kind with little bumps on it. Stone remembered his mum complaining about the feature in their– her own house. Straight ahead down the hall Stone could see a black couch that had definitely seen use. Above the couch was a picture frame, but from this angle, Stone couldn’t see what was in it. Oh, Vinnie was tapping his shoulder.

Her expression clearly gave away her guarded opinion of this place. As Theresa and Skipp moved into the living room, plopping down on the couch and making exaggerated hand movements– it looked like Skipp was telling her a story– Stone and Vinnie stayed in the hallway.

“So how d’you feel about this?” Vinnie asked.

Stone took another moment to survey the space, mostly just to let Vinnie know he was being thorough. “Looks nice.” He paused to study her face. “At the first sign of trouble we can run if that’ll make you feel better.”

She nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.” Then, she briskly turned into the living room. Stone figured he should start listening to whatever Skipp was telling Theresa.

“–And she threw a bottle at me!” He was saying.

Oh god damnit. He’s never going to live that one down. Stone felt his face twist into a grimace.

Meanwhile, Theresa was engaged. Or, acting engaged, at least. She seemed like the kind of person with a lot on her mind all the time, and keeping track of that and Skipp’s retelling looked like no problem. Just now, while Skipp talked, she was writing something down on a notepad in chicken scratch.

She gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth as she scrawled something down with the other. “No, really?! Is that why you’re acting all weird?”

Skipp nodded slightly. “Yeah. I’m concussed.”

At that, Theresa set down her pen and leaned over to Skipp. Out of the corner of his eye, Stone saw Vinnie bristle at the movement, and he wondered how long the two had known each other.

Theresa inspected Skipp’s face, then told him to turn his head with a hand motion, searching for a bruise or marking. Once she found it, she hissed. “Yeesh. Jesus, Skipp.”

“Is it bad?” Vinnie asked.

“It’s… not the worst I’ve seen. Hold on.” Theresa stood and retrieved a large blue duffle bag with more pockets than Stone bothered to count. She searched through it until she found a medicine bottle. “Do you want some ibuprofen? I’m betting, with that bruise, you’ve got a killer headache. Maybe also some melatonin? I’ve got that in here too.”

“Hold on.” Stone interrupted. “Are you licensed to give him that shit? What if it’s not melatonin, it’s, like… murder drugs?”

Theresa nodded, rooted through the bag again, and showed Stone her medical license. “I’m an RN, don’t worry.”

“RN?”

“Registered nurse.” Theresa put the certificate back. “Besides, I wouldn’t wanna murder Skipp. Also, there’s witnesses!” She laughed. “Not just you two, basically everyone in the building!”

Stone backed up. Oh shit, he had forgotten to take his shoes off, and now he was tracking mud all over the carpet. Whoops. He sent Theresa an apologetic glance and a mental apology, and she closed her eyes and nodded solemnly like she understood.

Theresa turned back to Skipp. “Seriously though, Skipp, do you want ibuprofen? Melatonin? Something else? Believe me, whatever it is, I’ve probably got it somewhere in this infinite pit of a bag.”

“Those two sound good, thanks.” Skipp reached out a hand, and Theresa placed three pills on his palm.

“I’d get a glass of water with those– Actually, lemme get it for you.” She stood and nearly jogged to the kitchen.

Once Stone had taken his shoes off at the doorway (he noted that Vinnie still had her shoes on and made no move at all to take them off) and came back into the living room, Skipp had swallowed the pills and already looked ready to hit the hay.

Vinnie noticed too, because she asked Theresa, “Is there a bed he could use?”

She nodded and silently pointed down a hallway Stone somehow hadn’t noticed. Two doors were on either side, and at the very end was a staircase. “You’re gonna go up, then it’ll be the first door on the left.”

Stone thanked her as Vinnie moved to support Skipp.

—

The moment Stone opened the bedroom door, Skipp clocked the nearest bed and plopped right onto it, sighing with bliss. Stone wagered he’d be asleep in the next three minutes.

The room had three beds in it, thank god, enough for all of them. Stone took off his overcoat and set it on the bedposts of the middle bed. Vinnie took the last one with no complaint, taking off her shoes before climbing in. 

Stone stared up at the ceiling. After a moment, he dragged his hands across his face and groaned. “...Christ. How did this happen?”

Vinnie hummed, too exhausted to answer with words. Skipp was already snoring.

None of them had bothered to turn off the lights before crawling into their beds. Stone begrudgingly got out of bed and flipped the switch, navigating back to his bed in the dark by reaching out his hands and feeling for the end of it.

By the end of the hour, Stone fell asleep.