Yes, She's Very Very Talkative

“Okay!” she giggles. “I haven’t eaten yet, so my belly is rumbling. Haha. Where would you like to go?”

“My car is in the shop,” you say sadly. It was a top model car, but the utter destruction your family inflicted on it means that the inside barely works, and looks like it was attacked by a wild animal. On the upside it means that the car at least looks nice when driving around. “In walking distance there is this cool new Nigerian restaurant. Nobody seems to ever go there, but I’d be down to try it if you are.”

“Cool,” She beams. “Let me just stop by at my apartment for a minute, and then we can go.”

“Okay,” you nod.

She turns back towards her apartment, and starts walking at a pace that astounds you. She moves very fast, must be her low center of gravity. But after a few feet she stops and turns back to you.

“But, this is just a friendly thing okay?” She frowns a bit sadly. “I don’t want, like, any misconceptions or confusion or whatever. I’m not allowed to go on dates with boys.”

“Just new friends hanging out at dinner, Kin.” You smile to put her at ease. Fucker fuck fuck.

“Thanks!”

Her face twists back into a happy go lucky smile, and she dashes into the building on the left. She’s even faster running. While she’s gone you puzzle over the last thing she said. Why can’t she date boys? Does she literally just mean men? Or is it no dates in general? Also whose imposing that? Maybe she had really strict parents. That would make sense.

You are awaken from your line of thought by a tap on the shoulder. She’s behind you giggling. How did she even get there without you noticing? You laugh too.

“Ready to go?” You ask.

“Yup Yup!” she grins. “I just had to put my bag away. Which way to the place?”

The walk to the restaurant was pretty interesting. She never seemed to walk on sidewalks the way she was supposed to. She’d walk on the grass, or try to jump on top of a pile of stones, or do something silly. Her small height made such feats of daring more impractical, but she managed to pull off every jump and hop. Meanwhile, you two talked about favorite games. She likes animal crossing because “The dog on the guitar is so cool.” She proceeds to yammer on about why the DS version is her favorite. You don’t mind though. After the initial confusion of being subjected to her storm of words, you find her ranting rather adorable. After that she talks about her social life. Apparently she doesn’t have alot of friends. “No free time. Besides, I kinda sorta talk everyones ear off.” She giggles at that.

“So you’re an art student, right?” You ask her.

“Right right!” She somehow pulls a vault over a trash can. How is she even capable of doing that in jeans? “I was considering graphic design, but I think I like painting better. I’ve loved painting for foreverrrr. When I was little, I’d make these crazy painting and they’d normally look nothing like anything. But, I loved it ‘cause of colors. I can’t really see myself as ever not being an artist, but you know, sometimes reality gets in the way…”

“Well you’re at school for art.” You notice that when she was talking about that, she started walking almost normally. “It sounds like you made a decision.”

“Well kinda.” She tilts her head and looks forward. “I have this job though, and it takes up a whole bunch of my time. I love it alot, but if I went full time with it then I wouldn’t really have alot of time for my art. Or you know, just alot of “me” time in general.”

“Is it work with dogs?” You think back to the ad in her backpack.

“Yeah,” she giggles. “It’s at a...puppy day care. How could you guess?”

“I wonder!” You laugh. Her energy is infectious. Though, it seems a tad bit odd to you that she’d call a kennel a day care.

“I love puppies.” She smiles warmly. “They’re so primal, you know? They just do what they want, have fun when they want. they don’t really worry about anything. I think they're the cutest thing in the whole wide world. Do you like dogs?”

“Oh yeah,” you say. “I mean, I’m not quite as fanatical about them as...certain people” You wink at her. “But I had a dog growing up, and I kind of miss that.”

“I’m not fanatical,” she pouts. Whenever she does that she crosses her arms behind her back and puffs out her chest. Curse her and her hotness, the instant you start teasing her she melts you into a puddle.

“Also, I had alot of puppies at home when I was young.” She retreats back into herself, crossing her arms over her chest. You see the restaurant nearby. “My dad owned this company that handled them, so they were always around, you know. And I love them. But, sometimes it feels a bit overwhelming....”

You consider following up on that, but before you can ask anything else, you arrive at the place, and the conversation shifts into what you both want to eat. You consider broaching the subject a few more times over the course of the evening, but ultimately you decide against it each time. She seemed so sad and lonely when talking about her dad, and throughout the meal she seemed happy and upbeat with whatever the topic of conversation was. ...