Adrian liked being in the middle of things because it felt like everything revolved around him. Cars and people and buildings zoomed by. He had washed his shrooms down with beer earlier and was perfectly happy to just lean against the lamp post and watch the world whiz by. His vision was like a snap shot of movement. And sometimes he saw things on a reel. A person in front of him, the next moment gone. He smiled hazily. People didn’t notice him. He didn’t look homeless, or hazy, or even that particularly fucked up. He just looked like a college student waiting for a friend to pick him up. Except, he had been standing there for half an hour.

There was a cigarette half forgotten between his fingers. It hadn’t been tipped since he first lit it, and the ashes were longer than the unsmoked part of the stick. Earlier someone had handed him a flier. He took it and stared down at it for a moment, before forgetting it was in his hand. Once he remembered and admired the color, before letting it drift from his fingers and into the middle of the street. It was red. It reminded him of some poor animal that got run over.

It was perhaps a little too hot for the outfit he was wearing. Long sleeved shirt with black and white stripes and black pants that were low and dangerous. There was still a little bit of glitter dusting his face from clubbing the night before. He felt like Adonis.

The weather in Bayfield was - to put things simply - fucked.

"One minute it's bloody freezing and showering and threatening to pour," Diane complains, "and the next it's..." her nose wrinkles, "this. I knew I was going to be overdressed."

She's wearing opaque black tights and a slightly damp velour sweater that could generously be described as a shirtdress or a tunic - but not really. The sudden rain they'd earlier encounted has the whole ensamble clinging to her, and has her striped hair doing something that might be waving. Her makeup is more then a little worse for the wear.

One arm is threaded through Jessica's, and they're on their way to the mall when Diane spots him. She trails off, midway through a sentence, "dryer's stuck shut with something, it might be chewing gum..." and then starts it over again.

"Look at that," she tells Jessie, jerking her head in his direction. "Is he not pretty? Oooh-la-la."

"You and me both, pet," Jessie complains in agreement. The both of them overdressed for the weather, not for the occasion. Jessie can feel the sweat dripping down her back and thighs. It’s disgusting, wearing denim in this heat. She took off the overlarge grey fleece after the rain and now has it draped over one arm. This means, of course, that the cheap white blouse she’s wearing underneath is now visibly straining. Damn pregnant boobs. You don’t even have to look close to see her bright red maternity bra.

There wasn’t much point in Diane’s jerking her head. It was the direction Jessie was already looking in anyway. Not because the guy was handsome (or as Diane put it, pretty) – he was. Jessie was looking because there’s something about the cheekbones and the stance that reminds her Tatter, and he’s been on her mind an awful lot recently.

"Well, there’s no’ much point in just lookin’," she giggles, forming a little girly huddle with Diane that’ll be familiar to anyone who’s ever been on a playground. "C’mawn."

She strides over to the poor boy. Even those not on drugs have been known to find the sight of Jessie bearing down on them a little frightening, especially when she gets that look in her eye. "Excuse me," she accosts him cheerfully, "ma frien’ an’ aye were just on the way to the mall, but it seems to have moved." This is in accordance with the perfectly natural theory that buildings in Bayfield will occasionally get up and walk around. "Can ye be pointing us in the right direction?"

It took Adrian a moment to realize someone was talking to him. He blinked slowly at the voluptuous girl looking at him. Talking to him. Her accent was amazing. He smiled at her, slowly noticed her friend and included her in the smile, too. He may have been checking them out. It was sort of a natural thing for him to do. But it wasn't a lewd look, more just like a lazy once over with blue eyes brighter than natural, as if inspecting a piece of art. He didn't make a show of it, maybe didn't even really seem to care, and when he was done he zeroed in on the eyes of whoever was talking with a muzzy intensity.

“Move?” Things did seem to be zooming by at an unnatural rate. He didn’t think that was what the girl with great tits meant. Adrian blinked and tried to really focus on her, tapping the previously forgotten cigarette before taking a drag from it. “Oh. Like, get up and walk away?” It could happen, he guessed. Adrian looked to the left, then to the right. “Usually, it’s that way.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. Only, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure, since he didn’t know exactly where he was. “Um. I think.” He grinned at them. It would have been a perfectly dazzling sight had it not been dulled down by the multitude of drugs he was on at the moment (or had been on, and still lingered).

Diane rather likes Jessie's bra. Red bras are just so... oomph, if you can see them, and although she's got no intention of making any moves on Jessica, she appreciates the effect from an aesthetic point of view.

Well, that was reassuring. This kid (she always thinks of people as kids if they aren't obviously middle-aged) definately seems to know where the mall went. He looks out of it. She doubts he could locate 'here' if she asked him to.

"Are you sure it's not upped and gone to Florida for summer vacation," she wants to know. She's not too clear on where the mall's got to - but she's pretty sure it ain't behind the boy. "Which would be, oh, that way, I think. Unless it's also moved. Gone north to get away from the heat."

As if the world is a seriously unstable place, where you can never expect things to stay still. Not even things as large, solid and predictable as Florida.

She jabs her finger over her shoulder - having as much an idea where Miami is as he's got of the mall's current location - and gives the boy a red lipped smile.

Jessie knows the look and the tone of voice and will be incredibly surprised if Diane doesn’t too. The boy’s not focussing properly, he doesn’t seem to be thinking straight, that cigarette looks like it could burn down to the butt before he’d notice it – in short, he is stoned out of his fucking gourd. Why do the pretty ones always have to be drug takers? There’s probably some deep philosophical reason to do with the aesthetics of the world versus the individual, but in the world according to Jessie, it’s: just my dumb luck.

She can’t help but smile when he grins at them. This probably has something to do with her dumb luck. Though he’s about a foot taller than her, Jessie can barely resist the urge to pick him up and hug him. He looks so... lost in the world. Which, if he really thinks the mall can get up and walk away, he may very well be soon.

Jessie is very impressed when Diane points over her shoulder. She doesn’t even have a rough idea where south is. Diane seems to know everything.

"Ah dunno that moving north would be that much o’an escape in this weather," she chimes in, smiling nervously at the boy. He’s so pretty it’s putting her on edge. Even though she knows nobody wants to date a pregnant bird.

Adrian pinned his intense blue eyes on Diane, then shrugged a bit, still smiling, still looking fuzzy around the edges. All this talk of Florida and moving made him crave the beach and a shot of tequila. In a clearer frame of mind he would wonder if this girl was teasing him or flirting with him. Or maybe both. "Don't know. It'd be pretty stupid to come up here, with this fucking weather. Though I guess Florida's not much better. Thunderstorms." He pulled out another cigarette and lit his new one with his old one. He exhaled the smoke over their heads because it was polite.

He realized after a moment that he was parroting one of the girls and his smile turned a bit apologetic. Jinx.

"Anyway." He squinted to the left, putting a hand over his eyes to block the sun. It was way too fucking bright outside (or his eyes might be a bit too dilated. Toemaytoe, toemahtoe.) "I think it's over there. Why go to the mall anyway? It's too nice a day." Not that he wasn't blowing it by standing on the street corner, trashed beyond belief. He didn't like malls. He always felt like he was caught in a traffic jam. He didn't sound malicious, though, just genuinely curious.

Whether or not Diane knows exactly how out of it Adrian is is unclear. She's eyeing his cigarette with some interest, being one of those obnoxious people who smokes at her own leisure, and stops with equal ease.

"Can I have a drag of that," she wants to know. She smiles encouragingly.

"Maybe Florida's gone to Europe, then to take in a little culture. See the Eiffel Tower and eat some churros. Learn to speak Italian and kiss a few strangers. That sort of thing."

His question is valid. "It wasn't a nice day when we started out," she explains, "we were freezing bloody cold. Like we've been saying the weather's a bit out of it and now it's gone all hot. But it wasn't earlier. We were looking for somewhere sheltered, and of course, free. I suppose we don't really need to now." She glances over to see what Jessica thinks of this. The mall will doubtless be air-conditioned by now, and freezing bloody cold.

"Florida’s a slut," Jessie mutters, but with a smile. She’s a bit jealous of Florida. How come Florida gets to kiss strangers while she’s in Canada searching for her babydaddy? Scotland’s a lot nearer to Italy than it is to Canada. Or Florida.

When Diane looks over to her, she shrugs. "S'ppose no'," she says. The top 'v' of her blouse is at that icky state where it's not really dry and not really wet but clinging horribly to her, letting her bra show further than is decent. "Bloody weather, it's almost as bad as England."

In Jessie's experience, the weather is always a safe topic on conversation.

Adrian handed the cigarette over without thinking about it and eyed Jessie's bra because, well, it was there. He smiled crookedly and didn't look for too long, because it was impolite and he was starting to think improper thoughts. He lit another, new cigarette because he had just given away his, which he wasn't expecting to get back. Not that he thought she would steal it, just. Just, well. In any case, he could always spare a cigarette. Not that he didn't usually get packs for free, since he knew people, and people liked him, and people worked at drug stores and didn't mind slipping him a couple under the camera's radar. He was lost after the idea of Florida taking a daytrip to Europe. He smiled at the idea of Floriday driving away in a minivan with little kidlet islands in the back.

"Mmm, England." He had never been there himself, but liked the idea of it. He imagined it as a brown city, old with cramped streets with people busy on the sidewalks. He couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of people driving in the left lane, though. That seemed suicidal. "Well, it's a nice day now." He tried to write his name in cursive with the cigarette smoke, leaning against the lamp post, but the warm breeze kept blowing it away.

"The mall," said he, as if he was about to partake some grand speech, "is too fucking crowded. Open spaces are nicer."

Says the boy who goes clubbing on a regular basis. It was different, he supposed, when the crowd was partially naked and sweaty.

Diane is having doubts about the moral values of people who eye up pregnant chicks. It seems like a hazardous move at best. You can't go around assuming that everyone's boyfriend has buggered off and left them high and dry, although she suspects in Jessie's case that is what's happened.

She drags on the cigarette, leaving a print of red lipstick around the base. She would have given it back if he hadn't lit himself another one.

That it's now a nice day has been established by now, but she nods in agreement anyway. The heat is making her brain slow down a bit, making everything a bit lazier. "It'd be colder in the mall," she says. This is neither meant to be a pro nor a con. It's just a statement. She likes the warmth, even if her sweater's clinging to her skin.

Jessie hasn’t had a cigarette since finding out hey, kid! You’re gonna have a babby! And by the way, you’re no longer allowed to smoke, drink, snort cocaine or any other fun stuff you may choose to get up to on the weekend. Since then she’s found out that while smoking isn’t exactly good for the baby a cigarette or two isn’t going to kill it. She’s still not smoking. She still wants to. Diane and the boy aren’t making this combination any easier.

The place really is turning into England if people are gathering in small groups outside and talking about the weather.

Jessie’s never been very fond of England.

She nods at all their semijokes and statements, doesn’t notice that Adrian’s look at her bra, and come the first pause in conversation, asks: "are you meetin’ friends or something here?" …Aimed at Adrian, obviously. They’ve been talking about the weather and none of them have even introduced themselves.

It wasn't as if Adrian realized the girl he was unconsciously checking out was pregnant. And it wasn't necessarily his fault that her bra was there. Any red-blooded boy with a sex drive like his would of course be automatically drawn to such a spectacle. So he looked, he admired, he smiled.

"No," said he. "Just admiring the scenery." Which could have possibly been a damning statement on his own behalf, as he had just been casually observing Jessie's bra. But Adrian was nothing but oblivious when drugged. He glanced over the girls' heads. He wondered how long he had been out there, wondered what Gaven had been doing, briefly considered the universe. "Sometimes it's nice just to slow down. Everyone's going too fuckin' fast."

Adrian was going nowhere but down.

He looked at the girls again. "If you change your mind about the mall, would you two like to get tea with me?" There was absolutely nothing threatening about Adrian's smile, and nothing lewd about his request. Adrian was just not someone who would do anything unethical with someone unwilling, and it showed.

Slow down? Can life get any slower? Diane knows she's going nowhere, and at no great rate of speed. She wishes something would happen, in fact. A nice explosion, although preferably not a literal one. Those tend to leave you with singed hair, and that's about the last thing Diane needs.

It's a nice invitation, sure, but the question begs asking. Who's got any money? Diane is vaguely aware that she and Jessie were passing change back and forth earlier. She's forgotten what happened to it but she knows there wasn't very much of it to start with. She wonders whose it was. It hardly matters at this point. Finders keepers, and all. So it's Jessie's.

She glances over at Jessica to see what she thinks of the proposal. Adrian seems pretty harmless. Not that apperances are everything, but Diane's not exactly worried that he's gonna haul them up a dark alley and rape them. He certainly wouldn't be planning on robbing them. Not unless he was really disconnected from reality.

Jessie blushes. Admiring the scenery indeed. Since she’s pretty but pretty for a fat chick her tits are usually the only thing to be admired. She’s stopped being self conscious about them since getting knocked up. There are much bigger things to be self conscious about now so frankly she’s kind of flattered at Adrian’s attention.

"Dunno," says Jessica, looking over at Diane. She hopes she’s looking nonchalant. Mostly she’s looking worried and bad at decisions without someone older than her holding her hand. In this situation, that’s Diane. "Do we want t’go fer tea, Di?"

Jessica’s assuming Adrain will pay. He’s the one who invited them, isn’t he? And he’s the man. Although Jessie’s been reading some very interesting things about feminism recently they haven’t done much to shake the belief that the man should usually pay.

Adrian had money. He wasn't about to tell them where he got it, but the implications were there, and they were true. He was willing to pay, because it was the polite thing to do. It really didn't matter to him either way. Going to tea was something to do, though he was also perfectly content in doing nothing.

Adrian also didn't care about size. Beauty was beauty, and he admired it. They were both quite pretty, so he appreciated them both. He liked their soft looking curves. Contrasted them in his mind to sharper ones.

"It's up to you guys. I'll treat, if you want." He smiled lazily and took a deep drag from his cigarette.

Diane exhales silvery clouds of smoke and threads her fingers through them, idly forcing them into tendrils. "Sure, we'll go for tea," she says. Never pass up free food. Free food is good. It's a whole meal she doesn't have to buy. "Not that we're jumping at the idea of food or nothing," she adds, with a grin that obviously suggests otherwise.

She's never been one for feminism - which has gotten her into any number of heated arguments with every other girl on the continent. Life's not fair. You get knocked around. Everyone gets knocked around. Women get paid less then men and it's a waste of time to try and do anything about it, she thinks. It's simply life.

But if you can get them to buy you tea, or chips, or diamonds...

Well, that's always nice.

Jessie is ravenous. She’s always hungry these days. If she wakes up in the middle of the night it’s either because she needs to pee or because she’s hungry. They’re only two of the delights of being pregnant. Free food is therefore definitely appreciated, even if it’s from strangers. Especially if it’s from strangers. You don’t have to pay them back.

"Thanks," Jessie says simply once it’s become obvious Diane approves. She wonders about Diane. The ‘or nothing’ reminds her of the way people spoke back home.

"So where’re we going?" She flashes a smile at their knight in shining armour. He’s got on her good side already.

Whatever his name is.