Tacey glances up from Janae's magazine as West comes in. A sneer crosses her features. “You again. God. Do you have
He glares. Settles into the moon chair. Picks up the remote, but leaves the TV off. There’s a long silence, and she returns to the article on how to put your makeup on in less than two minutes and still look pretty.
Then, “You are so fucking judgmental, you know that?”
She looks up again. “What now
“Friends,” he says, and for a second she doesn’t understand. “You think I don’t have any just because I come here all the time.” He’s set the remote down. “Well, you know, I wouldn’t if it weren’t for the fact that the person I’d rather be spending time with is off at his grandma’s trying to get over a bitch of an ex.”
She starts to wonder if he’s even talking to her anymore.
“And there’s no way I’m staying at home. So I’ve been crashing here, and you’re making it out to mean I’m a lifeless, friendless loser,” and he's glaring at her again. “Which is so off it’s not even funny.”
“Seth,” she says.
“Seth,” she repeats. “You meant Seth. ‘Off at his grandma’s trying to get over his bitchy ex.’ Seth.”
She’s set the magazine down. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere else. You pick Seth up from aikido sometimes. Most times.”
He stares at her for a moment. Thinking. Gauging. “So,” he says. “Tacey. Is that a nickname?”
She isn’t quite sure what’s been decided, but she goes along with it. “Middle name.” It’s an improvement from being at each others throats, anyway.
“What's your first?”
“Verity,” and she blushes a bit. She looks away when she catches his amusement and keeps talking to distract. “For some reason, Dad gave me and Faith two virtue names each.”
“Verity and Tacey are virtue names?” There’s a bit of a laugh in his voice, at her embarrassment.
“Yeah. They’re Latin—veritas
, truth and silence.” She smiles slightly. “Lucky for me, nobody ever knows they're virtue names. Faith Chastity is a bit more obvious.” A full-on grin. “Anyway, where did your parents get West
? I mean, Elizabeth
“You gotta admit that West isn't exactly common.” No apology. Just logic.
“I think they were going to name me Westin, after my grandfather, but my mom thought it would be more original to cut the last two letters off.” She raises an eyebrow. “Or something.”
“I say your parents are just hippies.” There’s a hint of an upturn at the corners of her mouth, like she’s trying to keep it in.
He smiles. “That too.”
This was supposed to be it. You know--The Kiss, capitalized and all. But it's four in the morning and I'm too tired to make it all romantical weird. So I'm going to go sleep and try writing The Kiss in the morning. Or afternoon, whenever I wake up.