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004. Snow In The Summer
AGITATED - that would be the word to describe Priscilla's current state. Rafe had been gone a little over two hours now, the Cameron sisters had finished baking their Fourth of July themed cookies and split off to do their seperate things — well, Sarah and Wheezie had, however. Sarah had gone over to Topper's and would be arriving with his family to the barbecue, and Wheezie had accompanied Rose to the grocery store to buy the last needed bits for the barbecue. Rose had asked if Priscilla wanted to go, and debated on whether agreeing or not, but when a forceful urge suddenly overcame her, she made herself say no.
So there she sat, on the porch, watching the drive-way without a single blink, hoping her car would magically appear.
The familiar growl of her Mustang's engine crept up from the gates, and around the corner appeared her Mustang. Rafe parked and got out the car, noticing his sister sitting quietly. "Cilla," he called out, catching her attention. She shot up, hurrying over to him. "Thanks, by the way." He looked a lot calmer now, but there was a certain liveliness in his eyes that Priscilla knew. She knew it very well. She craved it dearly. "Not a single—"
"—Keys." Priscilla cut him off, holding out her hands expectantly.
Rafe was taken about by her sudden bluntness, the rude edge to her tone as she spoke. "Say please."
Rafe dangled the keys above her teasingly. Priscilla glared harshly, snatching the keys from his grasp and barging past him. "A thank you would be nice!" Rafe called out after her, watching her jump into the driver seat and turn on the engine.
"I don't owe you shit." Priscilla grumbled. She knew Rafe couldn't hear her, but she didn't care — no response would annoy him more than an answer, it was only a reaction he wanted out of her.
Priscilla drove quicker than ever. She avoided the main roads, taking as many back roads and short-cuts she could possible think of to speed her journey. She knew the journey like the back of her hand. Every corner, every traffic light, every pothole was recorded in her memory. What was actually fifteen minutes felt like five by the time Priscilla parked outside the familiar trailer.
Looking around, Priscilla noticed no other cars. She knew nobody apart from the man she was looking for would be here since it was in the midst of the working hours.
"You back here again, Country Club?" Came the familiar voice of Barry. His back was turned, his eyes focused on the table below him where he rolled a joint. "Your sister won't be happy that you're counting her miles up, y'know."
"And how would you know that?" Priscilla smirked. Barry shook his head as he turned around to face the younger girl, a growing grin on his face as she neared. "What's up, Barry?"
"You good, Saint?" Barry grinned. He outstretched his arms and brought the younger girl into a hug, squeezing her tightly. "Haven't seen you in a while."
