lavender. (mace)

two.

"You realize we're not playing the quiet game, right?" Mamrie quirks an eyebrow, briefly looking at Grace as she drives. "Tell me about yourself."

"What do you wanna know?" Grace questions. The other girl gives a slight grin. Her voice is still so sweet and smooth.

"What's your favorite color?" She asks.

"Really?" She laughs. "That's your hard-hitting question?"

"Yes. Now, answer it."

"Navy blue."

"Wow, how pretentious."

"Shut up, it's a nice color!" She replies. "What's yours?"

"Purple."

"Ew, gross."

"Alright, alright." Mamrie smiles. "New question."

"Great." She nods. "I have one." She gets her elbow in the glove seat and rests her chin in the palm of her hand, looking at the redhead. "What's your deal?"

"What do you mean?"

"Normal people don't sleep in a parking lot overnight." She says. "Just saying."

"Yeah, okay, fine." She nods gently. "I'm what I call a runaway from nowhere. I've gotten no home to run from, because I'm constantly somewhere but home."

"How edgy."

"I'm telling you, you've gotta run wild sometimes." She shakes her head. "You're stuck in such a cage until you liberate life for yourself."

"You're not a stoner, are you?" Grace asks, genuinely concerned. "Please don't tell me I just jumped in a stoner's car."

"Calm down." She grins wider. "What's your deal?"

"Me? I've got no deal. I'm normal."

"Exactly, that's why I'm asking. What's it like?"

Grace looks out of the trees on the side of the road rushing past outside the windows. She sighs to herself and toys with the end of her scarf.

"Pretty boring." She rests her head against the window. "My car is so cheap that it broke down, I'm at a dead-end job that I hate, and apparently I hop into the cars of people that sleep in parking lots." She turns to face the other girl. "No offense."

"None taken." She softly says. "Life's kinda dark for me, too, you know. I don't get out much, I just broke up with my girlfriend of two years, I'm a smoker now, and I sleep in aforementioned parking lots."

"Girlfriend?" She gives a small smile.

"Uh-huh. Flaming homosexual." She nods and sucks her teeth. "She made up all this stuff, said that she loved me and didn't mean it."

"Oh." She quietly replies. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Stuff happens." She shrugs, almost as if it's okay. "Enough about me, though. Let's talk about you."

"What about me?"

"You're just...you're weird." Mamrie begins. "I don't know, it's just something about you. Maybe it's your eyes."

"My eyes?"

"They're just do dark."

"They're brown, if that's what you mean." She snorts a giggle.

"They're pretty." She smiles.

"Oh, well, why didn't you just say that?"

"Well, it's said. Anyway, you're office is up here, yeah?" She points.