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It was maybe a little bit weird to be friends with the daughter of a guy you were trying to hate on the principal of he was fucking someone you liked. Kavinsky tried not to think about it. He thought about it like this: Sunshine Detonator was a pretty okay person, despite being a barely-five-foot sack of cats with hair bigger than most of her torso, and she could play a mean guitar. Kavinsky liked Dee. And Dee seemed to be pretty okay with him, despite that she knew that he didn't care much for her father and that he cared too much for Jack.

She was the one that texted him, and he'd already been out in town, so it was easy to track her down at her location: a little diner with greasy food and free refills on the coffee. It was the one, he realized, that he'd brought Al too when he'd been recovering from his bender, when he first met him. Hella hashbrowns. The thought made him laugh.

It was easy to spot Dee at a table already, and he slid in across from her. "Hey chickadee, what's shakin'?"

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She's been waiting for him before she ordered, so she's only got a milkshake in front of her. She's mid-sip, so she doesn't say anything right away, her eyebrows raising as she swallows. Eventually, she lifts her head.

"Hey," she says. "Nothing much." Which is lies, obviously, but she doesn't just want to blurt it out at him straight away. "You?"

"Same old, same old," Kavinsky said with a shrug, which was not entirely the truth, because hadn't he just spent days with Newt glued neatly to his arm to assure them both? That the travesty of vision hadn't been some bleak foreshadowing, but just some new, petty cruelty of Darrow against them. "Newt's birthday was a couple days ago."

"Yeah?" says Girl, flipping through a few pages of the menu, idly looking for something that she wants to eat. She glances at her phone, but Carson hasn't texted her back yet. "Did you guys do anything nice? I haven't really had a birthday since I was six?"

"Little party," Kavinsky said and shrugged. He looked over the menu, but he already knew he was going to get greasy breakfast food and a milkshake as well. He looked over at Dee, just as she looked at her phone. "Totally had, like, an orgy and shit. Ya know, whatever. No big."

She hadn't really been listening, honestly, but she tunes back in when he says 'orgy'. Her eyebrows shoot up and she laughs, shaking her head.

"Shit. Okay, sorry. I'm back. Full and undivided." She's just going to get a burger, she thinks. "Good orgy?" She smirks. "Invite Jack?"

Edited 2016-06-26 09:39 (UTC)

The waitress came and took their orders before Kavinsky could say anything to Dee returning her attention away from her cellphone and back to the task at hand. When the waitress had left, Kavinsky was smirking a little bit, some sort of weird triumph, though he wasn't sure what he was about to be triumphant about.

"Oh yeah, totally. He railed me against a tree." He rolled his eyes. "Chickadee, if I ever have an orgy, please know that you will be invited just so I can watch my boyfriends be weirdly uncomfortable because they do find ladies attractive. Your presence will make me useless, but, ya know, it'll be worth it."

"Sounds totally like something he'd do," she says, grinning. "Long as Poison could watch, anyway." She rolls her eyes. "I am pretty okay with this..." She gestures at him, her fingers spread. "As the limit on our relationship."

"Ew, oh my God, can we totally not bring up the fact that Jack and Poison are fucking," Kavinsky said, making a bit of a face and shaking his head. The concert had gone a long way toward mending some of Kavinsky's hurt toward Poison--watching him in live performance, and not just in the booth--had reminded him of the energy he exuded when they'd first met, and not just the attachment he had to Jack. But that didn't change that Kavinsky was still struggling with his issue regarding his affection for Jack.

He shrugged, instead, and focused outward. "Good thing I don't need a beard anymore then."

"Yeah, I'd be really, really shitty at that," she says. "Firstly, pretty sure I'm not straight - tits are awesome. And secondly, I'm..." She blushes, fiddling with a sugar packet. "Kind of seeing someone?"

"...you do know that a beard is so that we appear straight, not so that we are straight, right? I've dated dykes before."

The waitress came back with their food and gave Kavinsky a contemptuous look, having clearly heard only that last little bit of their whole conversation. Whatever. Kavinsky focused on Dee's proclamation of her lack-of-singleness.

"Okay, kind of covers a huge range of shit here, Sunny D. Dish."

"Fuck that. I'm a Killjoy. I don't pretend to be anything."

Not anymore, anyway. She gives him a fierce little grin and picks up one of her fries. "His name's Carson. I met him at prom."

"Good thing I'm not in the market for a beard, then," Kavinsky said with a grin and a wink. Honestly, though, Kavinsky was almost certain that Dee would have been better than any of the townie girls he'd dated to keep up appearances while he was at Aglionby.

He whistled and lifted his eyebrows. "Was this before or after we danced? The night's sort of a blur, Newt and I were both kind of fucked up."

"After, I think," says Dee, and she smiles a little, popping another fry into her mouth. "And then there's been a lot of texting. Couple of dates. We hang out at his apartment a lot."

Kavinsky, digging into his hashbrowns enthusiastically, lifted an eyebrow, and then waggled both at her oblique report. He'd managed to get more out of Jack, honestly, and Jack had the unfortunate pleasure of being personally attractive and knowing about it. Dee was safe from Kavinsky being interested in any of these proceedings. "Hang out, huh? Yeah, I bet. Christ. Don't get knocked the fuck up, Dee, I think your old man would have a fuckin' heart attack or something."

"Jesus, not you, too," says Girl, rolling her eyes at him and taking a bite from her burger. "Poison already tried to give me the safe sex talk. I managed in the Zones without getting knocked up. I'm not going to make a habit of it here." She sighs. "And we're not fucking yet, anyway. So."

"Hey man, babies and, like, space AIDs and shit are no laughing matter, I assume," Kavinsky said, wagging his fork at her. "I'm not giving you a safe sex talk, Christ. I'm the last person anyone wants to get that talk from. I'm just being, ya know, pointed about the fact that you have the physiological capability to get knocked up, so. Condoms, the pill, whatever. I dunno what ladies use. Don't let him be a dick like some of the guys I hung out with at school were--sex feels just as good with a Goddamn rubber on."

"I've got myself covered," she says, blushing to the roots of her curly hair and rolling her eyes at him. "Thank you. And, anyway. He's...you know. I'm pretty sure he hasn't. Ever. So we're going to need to work up to it."

"Oh my god, are you deflowering this poor child, Sunshine Detonator?" Kavinsky laughed and grinned, rolling the fidget on his ring. Late November and early December, when Al had still been new to all the things involved in the trappings of their convoluted entanglement, seemed a far away time and place now. Kavinsky sighed and sipped his own milkshake. "Man, it's been forever since I deflowered someone."

"Yeah, I guess I am," she says, rolling his eyes, watching him mess with the ring on his finger. She huffs a laugh. "You make it sound like a fucking habit."

"I mean, it was for me, before I got here," Kavinsky said with a shrug. "Not intentionally, I guess. Just ended up being the guy that was people's firsts. Whatever, the first time's not as big as people make it out to be anyway. All that pop culture crock of shit."

Most of Kavinsky's experience had melded together into a blur of half-anonymous faces and quiet voices and secrecy. Between Aglionby, and roadside diners and bars, and the DC businessman, there had been very few remarkable experiences. Until Darrow.

"Everything was sort of..." She shrugs. "Haphazard. Back in the Zones. You used to just...snatch moments." She pushes one hand back through her curly hair, smoothing it back into place. "It's better here. Different. Getting to be around one person for a while is...kinda terrifying."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Kavinsky said. Henrietta had nothing on what he had heard California turned into for Poison, for Dee. But Darrow was different, better in a lot of ways, and terrifying in its awesomeness. To be able to have someone, to hold them, in a way that wasn't allowed back home--that was terrifying. Even if he'd never lived a life like theirs, this he could understand simply. "But you get used to it, I guess. Or just, like, keep being in awe over the fact that people do dating and shit here."

"Yeah, I'll just...wait to get used to it. Try not to get knocked up in the meantime." She shoots him a grin. "I just...yeah. Wasn't expecting it."

"Good plan, man," Kavinsky said, giving a sage nod. Then, he smirked shittily at her, waving his fork in some wide, vague gesture. "I mean, you can always just stick to blowing him and handies. Definitely won't get knocked up like that. And I literally do not know a single guy who will turn down a blow. Not one."

It was rude and dismissive and lighthearted, meant to ease the tension of the new and unknown.

"You're the fucking grossest," says Girl, rolling her eyes. He reminds her, a bit, of Vamos and Vaya - how they'd never seemed to have a filter, either. "I think you might have liked Ghoul."