"Cole, would you please just help with the pie? Obviously, we can't get it as good as Race's old pies, but we can't go a Thanksgiving without it. The pumpkin-"
"Pie? I said to order KFC for this year, and you're gonna be some cottagecore princess making pie in this motel? What are you gonna do, sprinkle it with some fairy dust and powdered sugar while toasting it with your magic powers? Forget it, I'm getting the chicken myself," Cole counted his money, baring his teeth as he realized he was a little short on cash.
"What did you buy now?" Jack dropped the pan onto the counter and sighed.
"It was for a good cause."
"A good cause? We're barely surviving on canned shit all day and you went off to bought something? How much? How much did you waste." By now, Jack had been clenching the rolling pin in his hands.
"Would you hear me out? I said it was for a good cause, it wasn't wasted. I wouldn't waste four hundred on-" Pale as the floor covered in cum- I mean milk... Cole realized he should not have said what he just said.
"Oh my god. Four hundred dollars? Four hun- Are you insane?" The shock had only just entered Jack's mind as he could not move nor express his feelings. "If you want to live like shit forever then be my guest, but don't drag my life into it. I worked for that money and what do you do? Waste it. Y'know, I always knew you never cared for Al or Race, but to be this cruel, I can't believe it. Don't even get me started on-"
"It was for Al's birthday, okay?" Cole blurted out, digging under the bed for a pale little blue box.
"Al? Her birthday? Why? Hate to break it to you but she died."
"Oh be quiet. Look, they're Pink Floyd concert tickets." Cole opened the box and revealed hundreds of old tickets, whether they were real or not, he was proud. He grinned ever so slightly as he shuffled through the blue and pink tickets.
"Hey. Man, are you okay? Hate to say this as well but...those tickets are old... And as far as I know, they aren't performing anytime soon..." Jack chuckled, giving Cole a pat on the back.
"Dumbass I know they're old, they're like collector's items. And, well, maybe Syd Barrett can give her a private concert?"
"Huh?"
"Nothing, nevermind. Hey, I'll help you with the pie. Race would not be happy with the pumpkin pie though. I'll get the apples real quick? Apples are always good, apple pie is so much better than pumpkin." Cole stashed the concert tickets back under his bed.
As confused as can be, Jack sat on the bed watching Cole prepare the filling for the apple pie.
"Man just look at that. It's already Thanksgiving. You think you're young and life is long, and then one day you find ten years have gone behind you. I want to just take a break from all this, just a short one. Completely forget about the shit that happened and just go back to walking around aimlessly with Race and Al. What do you say, Cole, that we leave. Leave this all behind?" His eyes were dull and hopeless, but he felt something inside urging him to move on.
"Leave? But we've only just found home. I'm not the proudest to call this place our home but, this is all we have, I like to be here when I can," the chopping of apples stopped, then continued, then stopped once again. "Let's just wait, okay? Sort things out first."
"Wait? For what? For someone or something to show you the way? C'mon, nobody told us when to run, but we missed the starting gun. It's time. We can't keep waiting." Staring out into the streets, a tan 1980 Camaro parks in front of their lot.
"And I think nows the perfect time. Al would have loved that car."
