Warm and sticky. The air.

Foreboding. The night.

Forth-coming. The day.

Alone. Welsie Heather Deanna Gayle.

She wasn't home either. No, no, home was a waste of space and time. There was nothing different at home except perhaps the worried tones of an old woman. As opposed to the silence here. Sitting here.

Her bare hands brushed the concrete stoop, rough, scratching the skin a little. She liked it. She liked feeling. She tilted her head back and let the humidity caress her cheeks. Her head fell back further and her hair entangled with the snares in the bricks. To feel was to remain alive. Welsie was not ready to die. Not any more.

She dressed differently. Her jeans, they were baggier all over, her sneakers. Yes, sneakers. The other shoes were destroyed finally, wearing and elements claiming their soles. Her sweater was sleeveless but hooded; an earthy sort-of green with a zipper. Nothing underneath but a bra, of course, but she wasn't that warm.

Welsie wanted to be good, but everything else was being so bad. She had always tried to live well, get eight hours of sleep, do all of her homework on Friday, read a book a week and eat an apple a day. She tried to be perfect in a world that was crumbling.

The scars on her wrists were proof enough of that.

While she had been eating apples and reading books, Mina had died, the store had closed, and Matthias had faded away. She slipped from her former friends, hiding within her room, staring out the window for her salvation. Now she was tired of merely envisioning the world going by. She would experience it.

This would first mean doing it. Right? No, not that. That. She turned her head to where she knew it lay. No, not it. It. The small box. Dare she say it? The pack of cigarettes. She felt as if thunder should clap dramatically at that very moment. She could open the box now, yes, take one slender cylinder out, uh-huh, and put it between her pale lips, sure, and then light it with the fluid-filled abstract prism in her pocket. Smoke. Be one of the guys. Girls. The flavour of life. Wasn't that how the commercials explained it?

Yet she was scared. Of being sick.

The air, it smelled. A mix between smoke and garbage and summertime. Warm, sticky, and smelly. Lovely combination.

Despite the near ninety-degree weather that had lorded over most of today, Russell had worn his coat. Seventy-five, he figured. That's how it had felt. People looked at him, and he'd stare back. Think what you want, he'd tell them without uttering a word. They couldn't hear, but his expression was enough to turn their faces in other directions. Maybe they stared because he had a jacket on in the summertime. Maybe it was because he wheeled himself up and down the streets every day. Either way, they stared. Either way, he hated it.

School had let out for the day, and he had left for the library. Of course, this particular library had been a private one that did not have to obey the laws, or so they figured. There had been no wheelchair ramp, which sent Russell's mood into a downward spiral. So, no book for the evening. Fine, he didn't need their goddamn books anyway. Then he'd go get something to eat for dinner. After being cut in front of by a group of 'too cool for their shorts' teenagers, he had managed to buy a carton of milk, some bread, and some turkey. This would serve as dinner for the next week, if the little fridge in his dorm could live that long. While going up the hill, he had been the Good Samaritan and wheeled out of the way of a lady in her walker. And what had she done? She had gone and flipped him off and told him that she could make her own way down the hill, thank you very much. That's about when Russell lost his patience with everyone and stomped off. Or, rather, wheeled off. In a very angry manner.

He had just come up the top of the aforementioned hill to see... No one. Nothing familiar. Oh, good god. Now he was lost. Had he made a wrong turn? Or... No, wait. Maybe... Nope. Definitely lost. Russell sighed, all anger having since evaporated with the panic that came with the thoughts of spoiled milk. And bad meat. Damn. He could ask for directions... But, no. That would be too easy. No, he'd wheel himself around a while, till he found what he was looking for.

An hour later, and the milk was most certainly spoiling. He debated going back to the store and complaining about faulty milk, then getting home again with a new carton. If he could find home. There was a girl sitting-- no, lying, on the stoop just yards away. He could ask her. Or he could go down just one more street... Russell tucked the milk into his jack, next to his body. Surely that would keep it colder than sitting it out in the air. He tucked his jacket around him, and smoothed off his jeans, then wheeled up to the girl. "Sorry to bother you... Do you know how to get to Keaton from here?" And he sported a most confused face. For effect, of course, because he wasn't truly lost.

No, really... It had to be just right down the street... And around the block four times, and down that oh too narrow alley way, then three miles east...

Welsie heard him and the voice close but not beside her turned a light on in the fog of her thoughts. The light beggan to dismiss the fog but the process took time. In this time, she sat and scraped her sneakers on the first step. She rubbed her palms on her sweater and tried not to care should her hair be hanging messily.

"Keaton?"

She echoed as her mind strove to summon the route. The unfornatue thing was, so it happened to be, that did not know where she was. Welsie had walked to this stoop and sat because there was no where else to go. She did not know the street name.

Welsie fixed the space of air from which the voice emenated with her clear eyes.

"Could you tell me what street we are on now? It would really help... please"

As she spoke, her hand twitched and tried to subtly slide of the cigarettes over. They weren't hers. The "good girl" portion of her brain had spasmed and now she was ashamed of what she wanted to do.

Keaton, yes. Russell nodded, and watched the girl sit up. And look at him with clear eyes. Eyes without pupils. So she was blind, and Russell was almost glad. Almost. Except the fact that she probably had a better sense of where they were than he, and she was going to get him to Keaton. Embarrassing. But, she had a handicap, and a significant one. He wasn't alone.

"Ummm... I'm not sure. Lemme see..." Russell wheeled himself around and rolled a little way down the hill. That beautification process that included planting a new tree every five feet was lovely. It just made seeing the street signs so dang difficult. Russell leaned a bit, and a bit more... Wa... Wal... He caught himself before he entirely tipped himself over. Russell sighed, and went a bit further down. Three more feet he was going to have to wheel back up. Wallace.

"Wallace. We're on Wallace." Russell re-arrived at the front of her stoop, and looked back at her. She was fumbling to pick up her pack of cigarettes, or pushing them... And she had tattoos. Ooh, wonderful. Your typical bad ass. Probably some biker's chick or something. Her with her baggy jeans and hooded sweater, sleeveless to show off the tattoos, no doubt.

As usual, he was wrong. As usual, he didn't know that.

Although Welsie had the sensation of a solid presence going from before her, she was perplexed by the lack of footsteps whether thuds or shuffles. However, she dismissed this and shoved the cigarettes away from her leg. Upon hearing his voice she folded her hands in her lap and cleared her throat.

"Wallace... I walked father than I thought... but I can get us back no problem. Are you a student at Keaton?"

As she spoke she stood and brushed off the seat of her jeans. She came down the stoop and pulled her hair back from her face.

"Ready to go?"

She tries to aim her face toward the voice, but is once more perplexed to find that to follow where the voice had come from, it involved looking down a little more than the age of the voice suggested.

Russell nodded to her question, and wheeled after her. Yes, he was ready to go. The milk might still be salvageable, and the turkey could use being chilled as well, but it wasn't in such a urgent state as the milk was.

Get us back. Maybe she also attended Keaton. Russell nodded. Yes, he would be attending. He followed her for a moment, then caught himself. Nodding was going to tell her nothing. "Er, yes. I'm transfering in." Ahhh, yes. Couldn't stand the other school he had been at, so now he was here.

"You a student there?" He had a hunch, but you only listen to those in gambling. And he realized he didn't have her name, in any case. "And, I never did catch your name... I'm Russell." Well, duh Russell. That's because she never gave it. He didn't offer a hand, as that would involve stopping. He just hoped he sounded polite enough.

"Transfering..."

She laughed softly as if trying to convey she knew the feeling. She had, indeed, transferred as well. And from an entirely agricultural community.

"Do you know what you're studying? Maybe we'll see each other on campus..."

See was, of course, one of those non-literal euphamisms.

"Yeah.. I'm studying ancient civilizations in the Fertile Crescent right now."

She allowed a slow smile and began to walk down the street.

"It's probably about an hour by foot... just to let you know... And.. I never threw it.."

She tried to joke about the name, hoping to break the ice a little more.

"It's Welsie Gayle... nice to meet you, Russell."

Russell smiled lightly, and nodded. "Yea, from down south. The schools aren't as good down there." Also from an agricultural area, but not because he farmed. Because that was the only place his parents could see themselves living.

"I think I want to go into Science. Probably computers... And, that'd be nice... Maybe you could give me a walk through of the campus?" Like her, there was no way he could avoid saying this. Give me a run through? Walk me through? Maybe say 'Show me around', but to Russell it seemed too dependent. Whatever. She'd understand.

"An hour? Well, I wheeled myself a hellovalot further then I thought I'd gone." Porbably the fact that he had gotten lost. And had gone in the wrong dirction. He'd make sure to keep track of the street signs next time. "And, nice to meet you, Welsie."

He followed her a bit, then looked up to her, his face questioning. "If you go to Keaton, then why are you all the way out here? You seem to know your way around well..." That ruled out the fact that she had gotten lost. He still found it a bit ironic that a blind girl knew where they were, and he couldn't locate the school for the life of him.

"The south huh? Me too... A farming community? My neighborhood considered cropping picking to be the greatest form of entertainment."

She may have been exaggerating a little and wore a small smile. She continued walking, listening and nodding.

"Science? That sounds interesting..." (She's sincere) "I'd be happy to show you around. It's a really nice campus."

She contined walking and commenting

"There should be a right turning street up here.. that's where we need to go.."

She comments, angling her head slightly to the left, listening.

"... Am I right..?"

She asks softly, not wanting to turn in the wrong way and make them even more lost with the potential to enter a bad part of the town.

"You wheeled...? I.. oh.. I didn't realize."

She really had been clueless as to his being in a wheelchair. She had noticed the lack of footsteps, the voice issuing from further down than a normal young man's voice. But in trying to stay always mindful of other people's situations, she was afraid to outright ask incase that might not be the case.

"It's nice to meet you too."

And she did not miss another beat. Welsie lapsed into silence at his next question. She was not going to bemoan her troubles to Russell.

"I was just walking sort-of aimlessly... not really intending to go anywhere."

She admits.

Russell nodded. God, he'd have to stop doing that. It was habit to stay silent, for him. "Uh, yea. We didn't farm. My parents just liked the country side. Bet they regret it, though. Don't know how many wheat fields me and my brother trampled." Russell mentioned that with a smile. He had loved those days.

"Really? I've been once. Late last night, and early this morning. But I don't have any classes for a while, so I didn't stick around... Oh, do you know if the science courses are any good?" Well, he certainly wasn't going to let this opertunity to learn about his new school float away from him. He'd be better prepared this way.

Russell looked at the street in front of them. He should have been surprised. No, really, he should have expected that she knew it was coming up. But he hadn't, and thus he was surprised. "Yea, there is... You must have lived here a while." How else did she know where they were? It still didn't explain that, but by the tilting of her head, he guessed she used her hearing more than he ever had.

"I didn't expect you to know that. I didn't realize you were blind till you sat up back there. Guess it's a small world." Maybe, or maybe just luck. Or maybe he just made a big deal out of her being blind and him being paralyzed.

"Wandering... Lot on your mind, eh?" Not meant to pry. He used to do that when he had a lot to think about. As of late, he had taken to staring at his ceiling, as getting up and moving around had become more of a hassle.

Welsie laughed softly and nodded.

"Oh, I can relate to that. Sort-of. Some boys in our neighborhood built like a go-cart or something... and they plowed it into corn field one day. It was really funny but the farmer, his name is Mr. Laney... he wasn't laughing."

"I can't really say, Russell... I've always been very History and Literature inclined... the sciences like Biology and Anatomy are good. Or at least I thought so... but for computer sciences, I have no idea."

She smiled at the confirmation.

"Good... I still got it."

She laughed and little and turned right, heading down the sidewalk with increased sureness.

"Acutally.. I don't live around here at all. I live a little ways up... an entirely different neighborhood. I.. sort-of have a really good memory. Once I experience somethng or like.. ya know.. hear it or taste it to feel it... I don't forget. Almost ever, I guess, I can usually call up nearly any stored information. It's prtty handy for tests, let me tell you."

And she laughed again. When his comment brought her mind back from friend-making mode into her original state of mind she sombered.

"You could say that... I guess I'm just kind-of realizing how.. naive and everything I really am. I mean like... how I've been such a goody girl.. if that makes any sense.. and wondering if I should be different. It's kinda confusing, and I'm definitely not asking you to explain it. I don't want you scared away just yet."

She forces the fourth laugh.

Russell smiled and laughed as well, soft and nervous, almost forced.

"Oh, our neighbors were never happy. We spent a lot of days afterschool doing farmwork for the neighboring farms. I don't think any of them liked us very much."

To this, he grinned. Well, why not? He never had to see them again. They had amused him and Ruby with their 'forms of punishment'. They almost deserved to be mocked behind their backs.

"Hmmm. Well, I take the regular sophmore classes first, then I'll pick my electives. I'll probably meet someone who knows something about computer science courses." And, it was true. Maybe a room mate or something. He hadn't gotten one yet, so maybe he wasn't going to get one at all. Not that he cared.

Russell wheeled right after her, rolling more than actually pushing himself. That was the beauty of hills. One side goes up, and the other side goes down. He was going to stop being suprised that she knew her way around now, as well. It was explained that it was a memory thing. Some memory, remembering the number of steps to a place. He envied her. And her test scores.

"Oh... Well, I've seen some scary things... This doesn't seem to rank up high enough on that list to send me running home. Heh, both running and going home are impossible, as I am disabled and lost. Thanks again, by the way." Thanks for saving him before he had to knock on a door or catch a random person walking by or something. But, this statement by her contradicted the previous thoughts he had of her. He had figured her for such a badass with her cigarettes and her tattoos. Well, that was just a reminder to stop judging people. He'd do that one day. Not today, and not any time soon, but maybe when he was dying, he'd give up judging people over other people.