Dungeons and Dragons, House, What's the Difference?
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WIND WHIPPED THROUGH Jude's ponytail, a freeing feeling, and she couldn't be happier. Sort of. Despite the initial disappointment that Cal was staying over at Will's last night, his absence lent itself to great reward because she woke up closer to noon than to midnight. However, now, it was mid-afternoon, and the sun was due to set soon, and he still hadn't come home yet. It was starting to freak Jude out because the last time he wasn't home for a long period of time, Will's—but not Will's—body was dug up from the bottom of Sattler's Quarry.
Her dad said that Calum was thirteen and this was the sort of thing thirteen year olds did— and unnecessarily reminded Jude she had been allowed for years to stake out at Daphne's for days on end, so she should really think about that instead.
It was proving difficult for Jude to think about that instead, though, so she went for a run. Well, it was more of a leisurely jog, but then it turned into a full out sprint when she passed the farms out on Wickerwood because something had most certainly died in those pumpkins. But, then, as she turned back into the main neighborhood divisions, she slowed down again.
So, in theory, there were things for Jude to be happy about, but she could talk herself into just about any emotion possible. But things were fine. Everything was going fine, really. Until she was crossing the street behind a parked car on Maple, just in front of Nick's house. Something smacked into her side, sending her flailing to the ground.
Her first instinct when she hit the road was to roll onto her back and groan because what the fuck? Why was she always falling?
She wasn't sure if it really even hurt that badly, or it was just the shock that was clouding her mind. The wind was knocked out of her upon impact, and she was slightly sweaty from running, even in the cold weather, so she couldn't imagine that she particularly wanted whatever or whoever hit her to see her.
No such luck.
"Hooooly shit."
"Jude?"
Jude rubbed her eyes twice before moving her hands away from her face.
Blocking the sun from shining through the clouds and into her eyes were two heads. Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington's heads to be specific. She didn't even know they knew each other. Out of all the people to deal with after literally eating dirt, the two people at the bottom of her list of preference would be Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson. And maybe Margaret Thatcher, but that was totally implausible. "Am I in Hell?"
"No, Steve just ran you over with his car," Dustin said, eerily calmly. Although, Jude supposed she wasn't exactly hysterical at the situation either, but still. Calm wasn't exactly Dustin's default setting.
