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Familiar bodies came and gathered around her and Wes, standing stiff and watchful of the empty air behind them. Distant chatter kept Carmen’s hands tight and clammy and her feet ready t move, but she knew it all stemmed from open classroom windows and late teenagers. She slowly returned her attention to the group. Jesse Steinburg always seemed to hold the emotions Carmen never dared to show. He was her opposite, emotional where she was distant, warm where she was cold, and right now his high-strung voice and panicked expression acted as a mirror into her own soul.  

Carmen hated mirrors.

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against her heels. Words bubbled to her lips and fell as Benny shot her an anxious look, and Carmen turned her eyes down to her white converse and glared. She stayed quiet as Benny quietly explained a plan of his, and her lips tilted slightly as he spoke lovingly of his grandmother. Cute. Thoughts of how one would procure magic through their bloodline came and went -- it was a discussion and discovery for another day -- and she turned her eyes up to stare thoughtfully at Benny’s idea. Her lips pursed, grew red from force and then fell open.

Carmen said, [color=dc9999][b]”I’m curious to see what this map is, if anything. If-- If we do end up leaving, it would be useful.”[/b][/color] She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to be driven to such a feat. Her home was [i]here[/i], among the dreary, rainy trees of Maryland. In her bedroom, in her father’s arms, in her classes, that was where she wanted to stay. But those homes were threatening her with imprisonment or death and her unquenchable desire to live thrummed through her blood like energy. Carmen frowned slightly, eyes turning back to stare dubiously at Wes. 

Time moved around them, and a distant smell of [i]something[/i] rank was approaching quickly. Classes had fully begun and the cutters were ready for their daily joint. She nodded once at Wes’ question, taking a few steps towards the parking lot beyond their huddle.

[color=dc9999][b]”We can hide in my garage. Got the address, right?”[/b][/color] She didn’t bother handing it out. Carmen assumed everyone knew where she lived at this point of their ‘partnership’. [color=dc9999][b]”We’ll meet up there, just… Park a block down or something. [i]No one[/i] can know we’re there.”[/b][/color] Going to classes was the last thing on Carmen’s mind. With a final nod to the group she turned and snuck out towards her parking spot. Among dents and rust-buckets she ambled, head down and face drawn to look sickly or anxious as an excuse. The silvers and blacks of the trunks she passed eventually turned into a burning orange and she froze, laying a hand on the bumper of her own car.

Carmen had an unusual love for old, old muscle cars. Her father was the influence, probably, with his garage full of shiny and old or rusty and old vehicles and his bedroom full of gleaming car models and toys. Her ride was a1970 Dodge Bee, painted bright red-orange and kept in pristine condition despite it’s age. Though its interior was gleaming, the engine and brakes often failed her, and she just couldn’t find it in her heart to hate the old thing. It was, after all, [i]her’s[/i]. Not her father’s, not her mother’s. It was Carmen’s and Carmen’s alone. She drew her hand across the side until her fingers settled and curled around the door handle. The smell of old vinyl and gasoline met her nostrils as the door popped open and with the scent came a familiar feeling of calmness. Familiarity kept her sane. 

[i]i don't want to leave you too[/i]

The thought was fleeting and forgettable. Carmen barely even realize she had imagined it at all as she slid into the driver side and plugged her keys into the ignition. The Bee churned on with a puff of black smoke and a calming violin piece and Carmen pulled out of her spot and into the roads beyond without another glance at the school.