By the time we reached the jewelry store it was pretty packed - and the signs in the windows were a pretty good reason for that being the case. It looked as if Molly's mother had decidd to unload diamonds at low enough prices that De Beers would likely be dispatching a hit squad at any moment.
"Hi Molly," called out the lady in question. "You're back from school."
"Hi Mom," Mollyt replied uncertainly.
"It's crowded," her mother advised the rest of us. "But go ahead and find something you like. Bunny," she added, smiling sweetly at me, "You get a special discount."
The other girls squealed with excitement and plunged into the store but Molly and I looked uneasily at each other as her mother went back to hawking her stock. "My Mom's really packing 'em in," Molly said. "She's like a used car salesman."
"Like a used car salesman about to go broke," I replied, wincing at one bargain. "You probably have a better idea than me about what those cost, but isn't she losing money hand over fist?"
"I'm sure that she knows what she's doing," Molly said, but despite the loyalty of her words, there was no conviction in her voice.
I sighed. "You're the expert. Anyway, there's no way i can afford anything, even at a seventy percent discount, so I'd better go face the music. Mom's not gonna be happy about my English grade."
"It can't be all that bad," Molly assured me. "Melvin was probably messing with you." I passed her the test and she blinked as she read the grading. "Oh Bunny..." she groaned. "That's awful, even for you." Then she perked up. "Can I have your earrings when your Mom kills you?"
I groaned and fainted dramatically into her arms. "You're a true friend, Molly," I told her, throwing the test aside.
"Thanks a lot, cow-tails!" came an annoyed voice from behind me. "Right in my face. Try a wastebasket next time."
I turned and saw a dark haired guy a few years older than me, all done up int a tuxedo that looked like it belonged at a diplomatic reception about a hundred years ago. The funky post-modern shades clashed badly with the rest of the outfit.
"Actually I thought you were a penguin at first," I shot back. "But what would a penguin be doing here? So then I figured you must be a decorative trash can." I paused. "A tasteless decorative trash can."
He looked down at the paper and smirked. "Well that's about as smart as I'd expect from someone who got as little as a thirty percent grade on this," he said, and threw the paper back to me.
We glared at each other and then went our seperate ways. That was my first meeting with Darien Shields, and as you can tell, we didn't precisely take to each other.
D for Drakensis
You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.
"Hi Molly," called out the lady in question. "You're back from school."
"Hi Mom," Mollyt replied uncertainly.
"It's crowded," her mother advised the rest of us. "But go ahead and find something you like. Bunny," she added, smiling sweetly at me, "You get a special discount."
The other girls squealed with excitement and plunged into the store but Molly and I looked uneasily at each other as her mother went back to hawking her stock. "My Mom's really packing 'em in," Molly said. "She's like a used car salesman."
"Like a used car salesman about to go broke," I replied, wincing at one bargain. "You probably have a better idea than me about what those cost, but isn't she losing money hand over fist?"
"I'm sure that she knows what she's doing," Molly said, but despite the loyalty of her words, there was no conviction in her voice.
I sighed. "You're the expert. Anyway, there's no way i can afford anything, even at a seventy percent discount, so I'd better go face the music. Mom's not gonna be happy about my English grade."
"It can't be all that bad," Molly assured me. "Melvin was probably messing with you." I passed her the test and she blinked as she read the grading. "Oh Bunny..." she groaned. "That's awful, even for you." Then she perked up. "Can I have your earrings when your Mom kills you?"
I groaned and fainted dramatically into her arms. "You're a true friend, Molly," I told her, throwing the test aside.
"Thanks a lot, cow-tails!" came an annoyed voice from behind me. "Right in my face. Try a wastebasket next time."
I turned and saw a dark haired guy a few years older than me, all done up int a tuxedo that looked like it belonged at a diplomatic reception about a hundred years ago. The funky post-modern shades clashed badly with the rest of the outfit.
"Actually I thought you were a penguin at first," I shot back. "But what would a penguin be doing here? So then I figured you must be a decorative trash can." I paused. "A tasteless decorative trash can."
He looked down at the paper and smirked. "Well that's about as smart as I'd expect from someone who got as little as a thirty percent grade on this," he said, and threw the paper back to me.
We glared at each other and then went our seperate ways. That was my first meeting with Darien Shields, and as you can tell, we didn't precisely take to each other.
D for Drakensis
You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.