Dry (OPEN)

[Callum Bowen-Lund]

Sometimes all it took was a quick run to momentarily forget about the negativity surrounding one’s self lately.

That’s what the blonde discovered when he opted to go out to the lake for a run in hopes to forget about that conspiracy-esque article a classmate of him published pinning him as the perpetrator behind not just one, two but three violent riots, and three more unexpected ‘rampages’. It hurt that most of his so-called ‘friends’ actually went on and believed the kid (and some even went on posting not-so-friendly remarks on his Facebook wall) but what made Callum so angry was that apparently they’ve started targeting his family. While George and Anthony maintained that they’ve got everything under control, and that his mom insisted that it’ll blow over soon enough, he couldn’t help but worry because of that fear and anxiety he heard from Juliana’s voice. They may just be step-siblings, but he loved that little shithead with all his heart and he’d die if anything happened to her because of him.

Fuck that Oscar. I swear I’ll make him kill himself the next time I see him.

In his haste to leave school however (in case in his anger he ended up spreading them damn pheromones again), Callum forgot to bring a rather important part of running: a water bottle. He had his wallet with him sure, but he had a feeling he’s in that part of the woods already.

Stopping by a clearing by the lake, the blonde tried to take deep breaths, bending over just slightly as he supported himself by holding on to his knees. It took every bit of him not to jump to the lake really. God did he feel hot or what.

He was all but ready to give up when he saw a figure not far from him. “Hey!” he yelled, waving his hand high over his head as he approached, “Hi. I was wondering if you’d know where I can go grab water from around here? I don’t know, maybe a concession stand or even a water fountain?” He’s not sure how good tap water was around America (drinking out of the dorm faucet was a habit he’s still trying to grow out of), but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures right?

[Ricio Miller]

Ricio had been hanging out at the lake for most of the morning, sketching with some charcoal his brother had gotten him for his last birthday. He'd managed to smear black stuff on his pants, his cheek, and the sleeves of his shirt. But he was enjoying himself. Once nice days like these, he spent most of his time out at the lake. It was a great spot to people watch or play his guitar. And it felt good to be able to walk barefoot on the soft grass. Even better, sometimes people came out to have picnics by the lake and he could smile his way into some free dinner.

He had just set his sketchpad to the side and rolled up a smoke when he first noticed the boy bending over by the lake. For a moment, Ricio thought the kid was going to be sick or something so he stood up to go check on him. But as he got closer, he saw that the boy was just out of breath. Exercise had never really been his thing, but he enjoyed it when people did their running outdoors instead of running on a treadmill while starting at a TV screen. How could anyone not see the craziness in that?

"Water?" Ricio said, he turned back and looked through his pack, tossing aside some clothes he found an unopened bottle of water towards the bottom. It was probably warm by now, but Ricio couldn't tell. "Here," he said, handing the bottle to the kid. "There's a fountain beside that gazebo too." He pointed in the general direction. One thing about living on the streets, Ricio knew where every public bathroom, telephone, water source, etc. could be found in Pilot Ridge.