Breathing like I'm Running (Janice)

[Mason McQueen]

set around January 5

If you ask Mason why it took him this long to send Janice a text, well he wouldn’t really know what to answer. After all, despite the weirdness of the night, he still managed to get her number before going home from the Bash. And sure the holidays came, but a text isn’t all that hard to do. It’s not like she’d be asking for his soul in exchange for a reply from her right? So really it all boils down to one thing.

Mason was scared.

It’s been long since he’s been out there after all. Sure there were a few dates with Flo, a couple more with Summer and a few coworkers, but he’s never really asked someone whom he met from a ‘bar’ out in a long, long time now. He just doesn’t know what to do, what to say. Thank goodness his best friend’s around to bug him about it and help him out.

Hi Janice! It’s Mason. Happy 2012! Had a great holiday hopefully?

Seems innocent enough right? It lingered on his phone for a good thirty minutes as he paced around his room, trying to convince himself to send it. Thank god Sam felt rather irritated at the way things are going and snatched the man’s phone, sending the message himself.

Here goes nothing.

[Janice Adams]

Janice was curled up on the couch reading and ignoring the copious amount of laundry she should be doing. Whatever, laundry was for chumps. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, startling her. Hastily marking her spot, she pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open.

Oh hey. She grinned in pleasant surprise and straightened up to type in a reply:

Hey Mason! I had a pretty good time. You? It's good to hear from you![/b]

She hit send before she could overthink things too much. Maybe she shouldn't have included that last bit. Janice pursed her lips in thought before shrugging. Oh well.

[Mason McQueen]

Mason quickly snatched his phone back from Sam (with a little help from his ever-so-handy hair) right after the man sent his text, shooting a glare to his best friend as a reply to the probability manipulator’s smug grin.

As much as he’d try to hide it though, the next few moments were rather tense, with Mason pacing back and forth as Sam just jeered him on, teasing him about worrying too much. And when his phone rang (Sam took it again, since Mason seemed like he’ll break it with his grip any moment now), he quickly jumped over the man and read the text.

“What should I do now? Like, what should I-“ But before he can even finish his sentence, Sam gave him the look that told him to simply do it else Sam would do it for him. He simply groaned and flopped back to the couch, groaning as he typed his reply out.

Oh you know, the usual. Got less gifts than last year though. My best friend says it’s because I’m too old for gifts. So, umm, I was wondering, by any chance, are you busy this weekend?

Sam insisted that skirting around it would do nothing but prolong the agony he brings upon on himself (namely the anxiety and extreme paranoia). Hopefully it’s not too forward.

[Janice Adams]

Janice grinned, her nose crinkling as she laughed, her thumbs typing out:

Hah! You are never too old for gifts. I mean c'mon. How old are you anyways?[/b]

Was that too personal? Whatever, Janice decided. Shaking her head, she stared at the last part of Mason's text. After a moment of lip-biting indecision, she typed in:

Anyways, no, I'm pretty much around all weekend. What's up?[/i]

Oh, she could guess what was up, but she wanted him to say it. Type it. Whatever. Grinning a little stupidly, she pressed "send".

[Mason McQueen]

Mason knew how straightforward his text was – and even if it wasn’t, he’s fairly sure Janice would still be able to decipher what it means (she just has that ‘vibe’ to her, he says) – so his smile went from ear to ear as his phone rang for the second time and her name appeared on the screen.

Happily ignoring Sam’s teasing that just because she replied doesn’t mean that the probability of her rejecting him pummels down to zero, he quickly read the message and moved on to replying, shushing his best friend so he can think. (The man talks too much for his own good, at least at this moment, he says).

That’s what I keep telling him! Well, old enough to look awkwardly inappropriate when I sit on Santa’s lap and ask for what I want for Christmas. And great! You think you’re good Saturday afternoon? I have two passes to a laser tag facility just outside town and I was wondering if you’d like to come with?

Because Sam told him that simply taking her out to dinner, which classic, may also spell boring. He normally wouldn’t mind it, but Sam just kept on rubbing it to his face. Thank god he had a brother with so much connections.