Crash Confessions [Lottie]

[Tristan Alexander]

Tristan’s finger twitched slightly, the most minute response to having heard some sort of noise. He lay face down in his bed in the darkness of his dorm room at five o’clock on a Saturday afternoon and that could only be indicative of what he’d been doing the night before. He’d probably come in somewhere around 5 am, and fallen asleep around 6 or 7.

He knew Josh would be gone for the weekend, so he was taking full advantage of his use of the room. His phone lay in the pocket of his jeans, cast on the floor somewhere and it had likely vibrated two hours earlier, notifying him of a missed text message from a familiar phone number.

He peeled an eyelid back slowly, an irritating sound beginning to stir him from his sleep. His eyelid fell shut once again, trying to ignore the noise but he couldn’t. The banging sound was getting louder and louder. He lifted his head, unfocused eyes orienting on the door to his room, his brain not yet registering that the sound he was hearing was the typical knock on the door from his best friend, especially when he was supposed to be somewhere. He blinked a couple of times, groaned and let his head fall back on his bed, shutting his eyes as he went back to sleep.

Tristan was by no means a morning person…or whenever it was time to wake up. His brain, especially when dulled with alcohol the night before, was never fully awake until at least fifteen to thirty minutes after he was out of bed.

The door to his dorm room remained unlocked, a sign that whoever had kept him company last night was long gone. Tristan winced as the banging on the door only got more loud and annoying until the door swung open. Tristan turned and lifted his head slowly, subconsciously trying to see who was standing in the doorway, his eyes squinting as the bright light from the hallway filtered into his dark room. The windows were covered up so that the room appeared pitch black, and the lights were off but the light switch wasn't too far from the door. From his position on his lofted bed, a good five or six feet off the ground, he couldn’t really tell, peering down at this person who they were so he merely let his head drop back down as he drifted in his half-awake, half-asleep state.

There was a race setup somewhere tonight, and he’d forgotten all about it, but usually it didn’t matter since the races didn’t begin until late at night anyway, except Lottie had probably come to hang out or spend time with him before the actual race….

He curled up into a ball, turning his head toward the wall and away from the door as he remained lying there in his boxers, trying to stay asleep. Whatever was making that noise, opening his door...would probably go away.

[Lottie Crittenden]

Lottie valued the little things in life; like when a great friend decided that you probably couldn't take care of yourself and needed a little extra help getting food into your skinny little body before a big race. Obviously hunger isn't something a racer wants on his mind when he's screaming down the street, burning the rubber off his tires, with nothing between his body and the pavement but thin air and the beast between his legs. It was a freeing sense, yes, the feeling of fear and exhilaration that got hotter and hotter until the nerves reached the flash point; however, it wasn't something one could do offhandedly. Racing bikes was an art. It required concentration and skill, and the asphalt was never a forgiving medium. Hunger (or anything not having to do with the race) was one of those little things that could distract the mind--like an angry fly buzzing around one's head. And in the second one reaches up to swipe it away, the bike is already spiraling out of control and one's skull is making love to the pavement. But casualty rates are always high in a sport of this nature... Must be why it's illegal.

Coming bearing Chinese food had been thoughtful enough, Lottie had thought as she banged her fists angrily on the door (this was becoming quite a habit). She dismissed her lack of entry as Tristan's "lazy-ass" personality and, upon finding the door suspiciously unlocked, came in without hesitation. She brought hell in as an afterthought.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bac-ey!" she cried with put-on cheerfulness. "Actually it's vegetarian Chinese food since you know I don't eat that kind of shit and I'm trying to convert you into a veg-head." When all she got for a response was Tristan rolling over away from her to face the wall, she put the food down on a bedside table and clambered up to his bed (this was one of the times she was very thankful for her height). She considered jumping on him, but she wasn't able to stand up or she would smack her head on the ceiling, so she rolled him over and sat on his stomach as though on her racing bike, and pressed her face close to his ear.

"This position mean anything to you, Tristan? And I'm not talking sexually, since I'm assuming you got that out of your system a few hours ago judging by the unlocked door," she smiled deviously and ran a finger along his collar bone to try to tickle him into wakefulness, but he seemed intent on getting a few more minutes of sleep. She rolled her eyes in the darkness.

"Well fine," she scoffed, "I'll answer for you. It's almost racing time, kiddo, and we need to have a battle plan. I don't want to absorb any casualties this time, and I finally got a tentative list of who's coming from some scouts. There's a kind of violent sort of gang participating. I think they like techno music," she added as an afterthought. "So are you still in, or do I need to write you off as a flake-out who just had to find out that masturbation just wasn't the answer? Longer it takes the more tempted I get to eat Chinese food in your bed. You know the smell of MSG just lasts for-evvver."

Admittedly Lottie was unusually bubbly tonight, but she was always like this on race days. The combination of nerves, anticipation, and caffeine always jolted her out of her more cynical ways; must be the adrenalin rush one gets from waiting for the adrenalin rush. She couldn't even comprehend how Tristan was so calm, so lethargic when there was excitement to be had! Life and pride were thrown into the pot and she'd already anted up. She chuckled happily and patted him on the cheek.

"What, run out of your excitement reflex?"

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[Tristan Alexander]

Tristan shifted slightly on his bed, his eyes flinching as the noise in his room grew to a level he couldn’t ignore very well anymore. Try as he might, he was being pulled from his sluggish slumber by the buzzing sounds about his head, almost as though Lottie’s voice right now reached his subconscious in the form of a giant fly buzzing about his head, a fly that wouldn’t leave him alone. He swatted his hand limply as he felt a hand on his side rolling him over.

He grunted as Lottie sat on his stomach, the wind knocked out of him as his eyes flew open. “Oof,” he said, sucking in a huge breath of air before his eyelids fell back over his eyes halfway, leaving them in a half-lidded state as his pupils rotated toward her. His head rolled to the side as he tried to continue resisting, hand groping for a pillow he couldn’t find.

His eyebrows scrunched together, his expression bewildered as she pressed her face close to his ear and whispered something incomprehensible in his ear. “Hnn,” he mumbled before he felt her finger running lightly over his collarbone. At that, he jerked slightly, his body trying to twist away from her finger. “Stop,” he whined, “the plane’s…not going to like that.” he mumbled incoherently.

His body decided it could no longer drift back into sleep with the weight on his stomach and the scent of food teasing it; it would have been too difficult, so Tristan finally gave up. Eyes shut, he put all his sluggish energy into pushing Lottie off him. It took him a couple of tries but eventually he succeeded, his mind absorbing the process as pushing a lightweight boulder off as though part of him were still dreaming. He groped around for a minute before he found the edge of his bed and he gripped it tightly with both hands then slid toward it, dropping down to the ground carefully before he let go.

Tristan sniffed as he rubbed his eyes, not purposefully ignoring Lottie. It was impossible for him to absorb anything she was saying until he was fully awake, so his body moved robotically toward his dresser where he grabbed a fresh pair of boxers and jeans then disappeared, shuffling into the bathroom. He groaned as the bathroom light went on behind the closed door, the harsh glare of it bringing him into more of an awake state than he had been a few moments ago. Within a few minutes, the shower went on and then back off. He didn’t take long in the shower, just long enough to splash some water on his face and get the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol out of his skin and hair.

Finally, a different Tristan emerged from the bathroom in a fresh pair of jeans as he shuffled barefoot toward the light switch in his room, wondering why the hell it was so dark, and what time it was. He yawned as light flooded the room, a hand reaching up to his wet hair as he scratched at his head before he really saw Lottie for the first time. “Jesus!” he said as he jumped, startled as though the last 15 minutes hadn’t really happened. Slowly the memories of the night before filtered back to him as he finally woke up. The word hangover wasn’t really in his vocabulary anymore; his speedy metabolism usually made sure that the alcohol was out of his system by the time he woke up. That didn’t mean however that he would remember any of what had happened if he were drunk enough.

Tristan groaned as bits and pieces came back to him, but not the entire picture. “You weren’t…I didn’t…” His eyes glanced toward the food she’d brought as his stomach growled angrily before they returned to Lottie. “You know, if you really wanted to sleep with me you didn’t have to get me drunk to do it, but I accept the food as your way of apology.” he said with a sleepy smile. He didn’t bother to ask what she was doing here, accepting his reasoning as her real reason for being there unless she explained herself otherwise.

He moved around the drum set beneath his loft and pulled out a chair, setting it out on the ground, tapping Rocky’s aquarium-like cage as he went past. The snake hissed, lifting its head up in interest before it returned to coiling itself around the branch inside its cage.

Tristan reached for the bag and grabbed a couple of chopsticks from within it, gripping the ends with his teeth as they hung from his mouth, his hands working on revealing the contents of the boxes. He frowned slightly when he didn’t find chicken or steak in any of them, but realized he shouldn’t have been surprised. “I’m going to convince you one day that everything tastes better with a hunk of dead flesh in it someday.”

[Lottie Crittenden]

Lottie rolled over with an startled "oomph" and smacked her head on the side of the wall when Tristan pushed her off. She muttered something sharply under her breath and rubbed the affected area, staring blankly into the space where Tristan had been a moment before. Boy, she had wasted her breath on him. He was practically still asleep; actually, she wouldn't be surprised if he was dreaming right now. He had muttered something weird when she was talking to him... the plane doesn't go like that...? Or something else equally strange. It's not as if she was really paying attention. But come on, what the hell was he dreaming about? She sat there for a few minutes on his rumpled covers, gingerly pressing her bruised skin and wondering vaguely whether or not she would wake up with a large bump tomorrow.

Needless to say, Lottie was equally startled when the lights flickered on; her eyes had just gotten adjusted to the darkness. She jumped and smacked her head on the wall again, falling over with a melodramatic moan. "What'd you do that for?" she complained feebly as she rolled over the bar and off his bed, landing nimbly on her feet like a cat. "I came in like... ten minutes ago. Jeez." She rubbed her head, annoyed. She meandered over to the food, giving Rocky a welcoming hiss, and narrowed her eyes at Tristan. "Don't flatter yourself. I didn't sleep with you. And if I did, you would have remembered it." She rolled her eyes as Tristan passed to grab some of the food he'd gotten.

"You annoy him with the tapping, by the way," she gestured towards the snake. "He thought you were going to give him a tasty little rat." She swiped a box of noodles out of Tristan's hands and procured a pair of chopsticks from her pocket. She thought the food was perfectly good; and perfectly animal-free. She didn't exactly want corpses sitting in the bottom of her stomach. Yeah. So delicious. Just thinking about it was absolutely revolting, but she was too hungry to let it go to waste. The last time she'd eaten was... last night. Man. Her stomach was growling practically as loud as the engine of her bike.

She sat down on the floor and dug into the noodles hungrily. "So do you remember what you're going to do with me tonight, or are you still dreaming?" she asked between mouthfuls of food.

[Tristan Alexander]

Tristan nearly released another yawn again before he realized the chopsticks were still in his mouth, so he stifled it and merely exhaled loudly through his nostrils instead. He swung his head toward the bed as he arched an eyebrow at Lottie’s question. His eyebrows furrowed together in a somewhat confused expression as he teased, speaking carefully around the chopsticks, “Sorry? I only like being a vampire when I sleep. If you really want the lights off though,” he shrugged, his shoulders rolling in the direction of the light switch.

He stepped back from the small table as he grabbed a carton without really caring what its contents were and sat down in the chair. He withdrew the chopsticks from his mouth and dug in, grabbing a little less than a mouthful. His mouth suddenly began watering as he chewed on the noodles, and he was beginning to realize for the first time how hungry he really was.

He snorted as Lottie explained herself, swallowing the noodles quickly when he thought his first reaction was going to be laughter toward her flattery remark and make him choke. Instead of laughing, however he found himself waggling his eyebrows, one hand held upright, palm facing her in a defensive stance. “OoOoOo…” He reached for his chopsticks with a grin, pausing for a moment before he continued, “Sounds tempting.”

Tristan lifted his eyes toward Rocky, momentarily distracted by her comment which had followed, the chopsticks hanging limply in his hand. “Hmm,” he muttered, exhaling slowly as he tried to remember what day it was. Was it Friday? No wasn’t that yesterday? Then didn’t he owe Rocky a rat? Tristan licked his lips before he snapped out of his daze, suddenly finding the box of noodles taken from his hands. “Hey…” he said half heartedly. He watched her settle in with it, making a face, before he got up and grabbed another carton from the bag, unfolding it and digging in once again. He was certainly a lot more awake now, definitely a lot more awake than he had been before.

“You know,” he began, “some people like being gods, at least to their pets. Some people really don’t care to know what their pets are thinking unless it’s how much their pets love them.” He lifted an eye to Lottie as he took a larger mouthful of food from the new carton, unable to hide the smirk from his face. He didn’t know why she was in such a snarky mood, but he was certainly taking advantage of it by teasing her so much.

He set down the carton on the table as he walked toward Rocky once again, determined to feed him before he forgot. He opened a small cage on the shelf below Rocky’s and withdrew the last of the mice, blinking. He needed to go out and buy more soon, he supposed…And probably more food for them. It was just easier to have them ready for Rocky especially at times like these when he knew he wasn’t going to run out to the pet store. He smiled as he lifted his face to Rocky’s cage once again, the snake turned away from him this time. Tristan didn’t bother grabbing his attention this time, he merely lifted the metallic cover on the top of the cage and set the mouse inside the cage, knowing Rocky would get around to it sooner or later. He cautiously stroked Rocky’s cool skin a few times as his way of apology, his eyes glancing toward Lottie as she asked him a question.

Tristan slid the lid back over the cage, securing it as he narrowed his eyes, trying to think. If it was indeed feeding day, Saturday, which it probably was since she’d said Rocky was annoyed with him…then what else was he supposed to do?

He sat back down on the chair, reaching for his food, eyes still narrowed as they rotated toward Lottie. “Well…does it involve any of the items I’ve already mentioned? If not then,” he shrugged, and took another mouthful of food. Suddenly it was as though a wave crashed over him, his eyes widened and rested on Lottie as he mumbled with the food in his mouth, “Ooooohhhhhhh shhit. It’s not…ohh shit. I’m sorry.” That explained a lot, the food, the attitude… He swallowed before he said anything else. Usually he remembered racing days…well, he tried. Suddenly he perked up a little bit, the thought of yet another adrenaline rush really beginning to hit him, coursing through him as it slowly raised him and buried whatever remained of his prior sluggish sleepiness.

“What’s the set up looking like tonight? What am I riding this time? I’m really sorry, I just...it’s been a little crazy. What’s the plan captain,” he said, mimicking a salute as he tried not to grin. He didn’t want her to stay annoyed at him, especially now that she probably realized he’d forgotten, so he was trying to cheer her up with his usual selection of goofiness.

[Lottie Crittenden]

"Animals are just something a naturalist knows about, kiddo," she murmured as she slurped up the noodles from her loosely held chopsticks. She cringed inwardly as the snake struck at the small mouse; the steady hum of its heart stopped dead in its tracks almost instantly, but not before the fear and hysteria set in. She didn't like to listen to anything within its last few moments of life--human or not. She could understand both of them anyways, and when the being is sentient it's just... hard to hear. She put down the food, because she suddenly wasn't hungry. Her own snake Britney always respectfully waited for her to leave the room because she had gotten used to Lottie's little idiosyncrasies even though she didn't understand the young woman's aversion to all she saw as food.

"Yeah. Guess I used bad wording," she chuckled, alluding to what Tristan had been thinking of before his sudden realization of what he was supposed to do. "You're going to do it with me, not do me..." Her brow furrowed for a minute in concentration as she realized that her words still had the same connotation. "Wait. That still doesn't work and I don't feel like playing word games right now." She punched him on the shoulder playfully and laughed. "Getting your head out of the gutter is the panacea for these kinds of situations. Pervert."

She leaned back against the post that held Tristan's bed aloft and stared at the inside of her almost-forgotten noodles, poking around with chopsticks, uncovering little mounds of green vegetables and crunchy nests of cabbage, her nose wrinkled and a curious look on her face. She folded up the carton with finality and set it aside.

"I forgive you for having sexually pleasuring and distracting nightly escapades that steal you away from me and my designs," she said with a laugh as she got up from her cross-legged position, stretched, and stood behind the chair he was sitting at, tapping her fingers on his head. The softness of his hair distracted her for a moment, but only for a moment, and she withdrew her hands quickly from head as though she had been shocked. Damn hormones.

"Well, soldier, you're riding my red sportbike, the 600 cc one. I'll take the yellow Honda because honestly I have a better chance of winning..." she smiled slyly and sat down on the arm of Tristan's chair, her arm on his shoulder to keep her steady. "Prize money is only two thousand, but that's not bad for a race that isn't that big. It's not downtown this time--it's on the city outskirts around midnight, and there might just be a little bit of offroad action." She squeezed him on his shoulder hard, but affectionately nonetheless. "No casualties, no prisoners. Got it?" She saluted, returning his sheepish grin.

"We've still got some time, naturally, but I wanted to make sure you were sufficiently prepared." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Still, we should probably head to the shop pretty soon to get my bikes out of holding."

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[Tristan Alexander]

Tristan arched an eyebrow as she murmured the little tidbit about naturalists. He didn’t understand what had possessed her to say it; he already knew that through knowing her…he had simply attempted to say that he chose to remain ignorant of what Rocky was thinking. He chewed at his food slowly as he watched her, ignorant and out of tune with Rocky’s actions as he ate his own dinner. He probably would have had a better understanding of her shift in mood had he remembered to feed Rocky earlier, or rather as they left but perhaps he hadn’t been fully awake as he’d have liked to think he was. Tristan shifted, stretching his shoulders slightly with the minimal movement as he chewed slowly at the food in his mouth. He didn’t have to be an empath to feel shifts in moods, the air or tension in the room… He understood people well enough to feel Lottie’s shift as she put her food down, and watched her carefully so as to pick up his cue, to know how to react to her change, whether it was to cheer her up or tone himself down.

He blinked as she finally chuckled, feeling a sort of weight lifted. She still wasn’t touching her food but it didn’t mean it was all bad, he supposed. He allowed himself to smile and even snort as he began to laugh as she tried to correct herself and use the right wording, and yet still screwed up what she was trying to say. As her brow furrowed, he said, “Jesus, Lottie, bang me already and get it out of your system,” unable to say it with a straight face or without a hint of laughter in his voice. He tried to twist away lazily as she punched him on the shoulder, but hadn’t really put much of an effort to it, laughing even harder at her words which had followed the action. “No can do. These situations are the most entertaining,” he joke, still laughing.

He returned to the carton in his hands and suddenly shifted his eating past, chopsticks moving rapidly in his hands as he consumed bite after bite, chewing quickly. He normally didn’t like to eat that fast not because of a personal preference, but because it usually made the people around him uncomfortable, but he figured Lottie wouldn’t mind just this once.

Halfway through his meal, he heard her speak of forgiveness, and nearly choked on his food but managed to catch himself in time. He swallowed the huge lump of food in his throat, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress a smirk. She knew him far too well if she’d been able to read between the lines of his speech. He’d now paused from his meal, momentarily distracted by what she was saying before a smile slowly broke out across his face.

“Well…good. I’d hate to find out that I’m not giving you and your designs enough attention because then I would have to suggest actively enrolling yourself in my lifestyle, rather than passively. Booze only limitations on yourself don’t count. Not as much fun.” he lifted his eyes to her as she moved behind him and returned them to his food before he felt her fingers tapping at his head. The action felt nice…and he found himself shutting his eyes before he could help himself, but just as soon as her fingers tapped his head, they were gone, and his eyes were open once more. He tried to shrug off anything he’d attached to the movement and returned to eating his food, finishing it within the next few seconds.

He set the carton down on the table, chopsticks and all then leaned back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head as he listened. He lifted a leg, resting the arch of his foot against the edge of the small table beside him as she sat down on the arm of his chair, not the least bit bothered by the actions. He sucked his teeth at her remark, “I don’t need the Honda to win, I’d leave you in the dust no matter what.” He grinned. “Speedster’s law,” he continued, “but if you need the Honda to give you some sort of comfort, than by all means,” he ended with a smirk, freeing up an arm to poke her in her side.

At the mention of prize money, his mood shifted. The smile vanished from his face despite her affectionate teasing afterward, his mind still on the money, and what he’d inevitably have to ask her. His arms fell at his sides and he glanced toward the window as he scratched his head then rose slowly from his chair, forgetting that she’d been leaning on him. He’d heard most of what she’d said afterward, the words vacantly spilling into his mind.

He hated asking anything of anyone, and hated even more having to explain himself or bring up the past so he figured he might as well get through the discomfort as quickly as possible, gritting his teeth treating the situation as though getting an injection or shot. He just wanted the pain to pass quickly, and be done with it. He knew Lottie would understand his situation, understand how he felt about talking about it but the reality was he just didn’t like stating anything this personal aloud.

“Listen…about that...” he began, slowly making his way toward his closet, stepping over the clutter in his room without any real thought to his actions or what he was stepping on. He pushed the closet door open, the action a bit difficult since there seemed to be clothes lodged between the door, causing it to jam. He bent down and began to sift through the pile, wondering if it was his semi-clean clothing pile or the dirty pile. “I don’t like having to ask for hand outs, and I know we had an agreement before but …I think I’m going to need some of our earnings tonight.” He shut his eyes as he picked up a plain gray shirt, giving it a few sniffs before he decided it didn’t smell bad. He pulled the shirt over his head, continuing, “I’m not making enough at Sam’s anymore…Alison stopped sending me money a few months ago…”

He’d always referred to his mother in the drab, monotone voice he’d used, always trying not to attach any emotion to her though he knew in reality it was still there, and it still pained him. For those very same reasons, he hadn’t called her “mom” since he was 5. He’d let Lottie in far enough for her to know that his mother or any talk of her left a particularly bad taste in his mouth, but had left it up to her to decide if it was simply because he’d never forgiven her for bringing another man into his life before his father was buried or because in reality his issues with loving other people stemmed from his trauma with her and his father, and never quite getting the love he needed from them. He’d never told her or anyone else of the night of his stepfather’s death, hoping he’d take that secret with him to the grave. With Lottie especially, he figured she was one of the few real people he could call a friend, and he needed that, needed to know he wasn’t a monster, and was afraid that if he ever told her things would change between them, especially with the way she felt about death.

His stomach always turned as he broached this conversation, always nervous that they were getting a little to close to his big secret. His heart clenched as he worried, picking up yet another shirt, red this time, as he threw it over the gray long sleeved shirt he already had on. For him to have waited months before actually broaching this conversation was no surprise, for he always waited until he really couldn’t handle things anymore before he asked for help. That, and through his mother’s actions, he knew it meant that whatever ‘love’ his mother had felt for him before was finally gone, and now he was alone.

Tristan understood that they had plenty of time, but he was still unable to face Lottie as he awaited her response, tense and uncomfortable as he always was when he revealed information about himself or asked for help. He sifted through the clothes in his closet before he found what he was looking for, a black and red leather jacket specifically suited for cycle riding and pulled it out, just so that she’d know he was ready to go whenever she was.

[Lottie Crittenden]

“Jesus, Lottie, bang me already and get it out of your system,” he jokingly added, and Charlotte laughed with him and pressed her fingers into the corners of Tristan's smile. "Problem is, kiddo, that's not how it works. The system needs constant tune-ups." As she talked, she squeezed Tristan's shoulders tightly and ran her leg down the length of his, ignoring the pleasant rush of blood to her crotch that accompanied any kind of action that her body associated with sex. She broke away abruptly when Tristan poked at her side and squirmed away from his finger. With a squeal, she grabbed his wrist tightly, her nails ready to dig into his wrist if he made another move.

"Don't you dare," Lottie warned, not ready for him to exploit her ticklishness. She wasn't exactly the strongest in the bunch, and he could probably break her wrist like a twig with his lightning-fast reflexes, but he always held back whenever he was around her. Except of course, when eating his noodles at super-speed. It didn't disgust her, but she just didn't know how he could eat that fast--how anyone could eat that fast. It was perplexing to someone who took an hour to eat lunch every day, if she ate at all. Her stomach churned at the thought, and she was glad she had discarded her food after no more than a few bites. With a laugh she let go of his arm and pushed him away.

For a second she was afraid she had offended him, but it was never really a legitimate concern. There relationship was: 1. too strong for anything like that to happen; and 2. he was pretty thick-skinned when it came to her. Some other things got under his nails... You know those skeletons in the closet that no one wants to acknowledge, the ones that hide in the darkest corners of the mind, just waiting for a crack of light to see by to find the target and pounce? Yeah. That's the kind.

Well, Lottie didn't know too much about Alison, Tristan's mother. She knew that it was a tender subject, which led her to believe that there was some kind of abuse behind their relationship, but he hadn't volunteered much information to her. And she understood that; the fear, the anguish... Or at least, she'd seen enough of it to feel like she had an adequate grip on the situation. Jeez... she didn't realize how far-removed she was.

"What are you turning away for?" Lottie asked lightly, hopping easily off the side of the chair to join Tristan at his closet. "It's not like I'm handing out alms here," she rolled her eyes. "You've done enough for me more times than I can count. And plus," she added as an afterthought, "I haven't lost any money gambling lately so I'm pretty good for at least a week." Knowing Lottie's unpredictable nature with money, she probably couldn't make an accurate prediction that far ahead, but thinking about the future wasn't something that Charlotte Crittenden ever did. She slung her arm around Tristan as he pulled out his jacket.

"So you get half the winning regardless... assuming that we win of course. Now, in the impossible event that you actually come in first, you get to keep the entire 2g and I'll even throw in a good fuck. That's how confident I am." She grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around so that he would face her head-on, in an attempt both to take his thoughts off his mother and his money problem and to make him pay close attention to her.

"Listen. These guys don't know that we're Breeds, and we need to keep it that way. So be especially careful okay? Now I'm not saying that we shouldn't use our gifts to our advantage--I'm mean, why should a fast swimmer not be allowed to use his legs?" She bit her lip with the closet thing to nervousness she would ever feel. "But just make sure they don't suspect anything fishy. I don't want to get into too much trouble tonight."

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[Tristan Alexander]

Tristan grinned as Charlotte laughed, never moving away from her. He understood that they could get rather playful with each other, and didn’t mind her touching him constantly. He laughed as she broke away from him right as he began poking her side then leaned forward, using both his arms to fight her as she grabbed his wrists. Tristan gave her an innocent look as she said, “Don’t you dare.”

“What?” he laughed, “Do this?” with that, he lunged toward her and began attacking her weakest spots, tickling her stomach, her sides… But he didn’t do it anywhere near the force he could have used. He tickled her until he was sure he had her at his mercy then let her push him away.

As he searched through his closet, and his hand tightened on his jacket, he lifted his head slightly as Lottie finally spoke. He glanced at her as she stood by his side, and flushed, hating that he was being called out on his embarrassment and anxiety at asking her this simple question. He gave her a weak smile and nodded as she said she was good on money and he was a good friend. He rubbed the back of his neck, almost too embarrassed to say anything before he finally managed to muster up a few words. “I know…it’s…I just…don’t like asking anyone for anything.” Not to mention he was on a rather touchy subject, money aside.

He was glad she sidestepped that conversation and merely delved into splitting the money, grateful that he didn’t have to explain his family situation any further. The rush of blood to his head slowly trickled away as he calmed, feeling a bit better.

He finally looked her in the eye as she explained he could keep the 2 grand if he won and the extra offer finally brought forth a laugh from him. He laughed long and hard, shaking his head as she grabbed him by the shoulder and made him face her. “Thanks, but I don’t need that much money. I wouldn’t dream of taking all of it and leaving you high and dry. And anyway, I’m sure there are provisos and exclusions to that little contract you’re leaving out. So what, I get a ‘good fuck?’ I know you’re not offering. For all I know, I’ll get back here and some hooker you bought me will be draped across my bed, then next time I see you you’ll tell me you conveniently ‘neglect to mention that beforehand.’”

Tristan continued laughing, unable to keep it in. “You’re a smartass, you know that? I’ll pass on the herpes, thanks.” If she’d been trying to get his mind off his mom, it was definitely working now. All thoughts of her were gone.

As Lottie got serious, he finally stopped laughing, blinking. He arched an eyebrow as she said they had to guard their secret. Why was she mentioning this now, out of all the times she could have mentioned it before? He wasn’t new to racing, and he sure as hell wasn’t up for letting norms know he had powers. “I know…where is this coming from..? We usually keep our head above water, we’ll be fine tonight. No different than any other night.” He began wondering if she was worried about something and if that was what had made her bring it up. It wasn’t as though he could really use his powers on a motorcycle anyway, most of his power was in his feet and tonight he wasn’t racing with his feet. That was half the fun, half the challenge.

He placed a hand at her waist, stroking her sides lightly. If he didn’t know any better…Tristan gave a short laugh, one laced with disbelief as he continued to look Charlotte in the eye. “What are you, nervous?” he asked softly.