Krysta sits in the front seat of the sixties van, known as The Groovy Bus, staring out the window. Her head rests against the window while she watches the fields go by. Fields are so boring. I hope we hit some mountains soon. She muses. Her eyes move to the road ahead of them and she sees the waves of heat leaving the surface. She looks at the digital clock on the dash panel. Eight o'clock in the morning and it's already swealtering. Thank God for air conditioning. She sticks her right hand out a few inches from the vent that was pouring the cold air into the van, keeping everyone comfortable. Spreading her fingers, she lets the air cool her hand off, playing with it absent mindedly. She glances back at everyone behind her, imagining they were rather tired. Being a morning person all her life, Krysta didn't mind the five AM wake-up call from Lucas. She smiles, thinking that his phone calls this morning probably pissed a couple people off. Well, at least got some groans.

"So what was everyone's reactions this morning when you called them?" She asks him, grinning a little. Krysta had already been up for a few minutes. She just lay in bed allowing her body to wake up slowly. She had packed everything she'd need for the trip the night before and only needed to get dressed and pack the remaining things that she would need that morning; toothbrush, hair brush, toothpaste, PJ's etc. Lucas had said he was going to call everyone early so they could get the van packed up. He wasn't kidding. Krysta had been there at five thirty with Lucas' favourite morning drink, as well as hers and everyone else's, to help pack. She grabs the thermos of coffee sitting between the two front seats and pours herself another cup in her large mug and takes a sip, careful not to burn her tongue.

Lucas sits with his arm out of the window, having the window rolled right the way down. He’s quite proud of the repairs he pulled off on the bus. Between himself and his step-father and his little brother, they almost completely refitted the bus. Brand new seat filling and coverings, almost a completely new engine, and those changes were just the beginning of it all. Digital clock and radio, fully functioning air-con and all new windows. Lucas drives, only half paying attention to where they are, and what’s on the road. They’re officially out in the middle of no-where, with no other cars on the road, and nothing to particularly watch for apart from the occasional turn, which isn’t particularly taxing. He keeps his right hand on the steering wheel while he lets his left hand dangle out of the window.

” So what was everyone's reactions this morning when you called them?”

“Pretty much everyone was still half asleep, I don’t think any of us are used to being woken up with a phone-call at five in the morning.”

Luc returns to driving, or at least keeping the car on the road, it’s not really driving, it’s pretty much a straight road. He wonders for a second where they are actually going. They’d been planning this road trip for a while, but no-one ever set a real destination. Lucas looks in the rear-view mirror, looking at each of the group assembled. Rumer, Courtney, and Cortez sat in the back, Krysta in the front passenger seat. He looks out of the wing mirror and catches sight of the red orange and pink splotches on the side of the bus and smiles. He’s glad that he got the bus all painted up.

“Does anyone have any idea where we’re going?” he asks the rest of the group assembled in the car. He hopes that someone knows where they’re going ‘cause at the moment he’s just following the road and hoping that they find somewhere.

On the other side of the van than Cortez, Courtney sits, her head, just like Krysta’s, resting tiredly against the window. Her blue eyes beam out the window, taking in what little sights there are to see. For miles now all there seems to be are fields. She hasn’t spotted a single person or vehicle in what feels like a lifetime. Not that any of this fully registers with the blonde, no; she couldn’t really care.

(Mom’s gonna freak when she sees what happened to car…) Courtney internally groans, having just last night reversed her mother’s car into a lamppost then snuck it into the garage without telling her. She isn’t a good driver, not at all. Sometimes she thinks the only reason she passed her test was because the instructor was a total perve who thought that it was ok to drool over a girl as long as he passed her. (Thank god I won’t be around when she finds it this morning.)

“Does anyone have any idea where we’re going?”

“Err…” Courtney mumbles, perking up a little. “Somewhere with soft beds, clean bathrooms and cheap entertainment.” She answers jokingly, though those are the factors in their stop over’s which she wants. As for a real destination, Courtz has no clue where. She’s never been this far down in the country, so she has little to no idea about where would be a good place for them to stop.

Krysta chuckles at Luc's answer. Of course, she already knew the answer, she just wondered if he was going ot make one of his usual sarcastic, albeit funny, remarks. Judging by his response, he was too tired to think about it. No worries. I'm sure he'll be full of them later. The tall, lanky red head reaches for a granola bar, rips open the wrapper and takes a chunk out of it with her teeth. Mmm. Good call, Krys. When Luc asks where they're headed, she pulls the map of their current location out of the glove box and opens it up.

“Somewhere with soft beds, clean bathrooms and cheap entertainment”

Krysta laughs. "That's a must, Courtz." Krysta says to her best friend of ... Many years. After a few more bites from her granola bar and some searching for highway signs, Krysta finds their current location. "Here we are," She says, poiting with her pinky finger to a lone stretch of highway. She does some quick calculations and pinpoints where they are to within a few metres. "The first motel isn't for another ... eight hours ... " Krysta pulls the map a few inches closer to her face and squints, trying to make sure her calculations were corrent. "Damn ... Good thing we brought plenty of food and drinks." She comments, remembering the long receipt they received at the grocery store. There was enough food in the coolers they stuffed in the back of the bus to feed twice as many people than were on the trip.

"Speaking of ... "She says as she folds the map back up neatly and stuffs it back into the glove compartment. "Anyone wants some breakfast?" She asks, rummaging through the cooler. "I've got granola bars, cereal bars, watermelon, cantalope, cherries, grapes, apples, raisins, peaches, oranges ... Cheese, peanut butter ... Oh, I've got some bread here, too for sandwiches. And my mom's jam ... I grabbed ... Strawberry, strawberry rhubarb, blueberry, blackberry, raspberry annnnnd ... Grape." She informs the troups.

"Hey, you'd better not have forgotten my chocolate coated raisins," Luc adds, knowing that he reminded Krysta about his one snack-food that he almost literally can't live without. He looks back at the rest of the group assembled in his rear-view mirror, looking at each person and then turning his attention back to the road in front of the car. He swaps his hands for a second, using his right hand to turn on the radio. he plays with the new, shiny silver dial for a few seconds, finding only one station that works, one of those classic rock stations that plays nothing but the likes of ACDC, Iron Maiden and Van Halen.

"Sorry about this guys, but all I can find is the greatest hits of hair-metal, pre-1989," to be honest, he quite likes the music, but somehow, he doubts Courtney and Rumer are much into this kind of music. Luc sits in his seat, looking out of the window, singing along quietly with some old 80s song by Guns 'n' Roses, waiting for something interesting to happen.

Krysta grins as Luc makes his desire known. "How could I?" She asks, pulling out a bag of her homemade chocolate covered raisins. She opens the bag and sets it on the cooler for him to grab. "You only bugged me about it every hour." She exaggerates. Ok, sop it wasn't entirely an exaggeration. But seriously. How could she have forgotten her best friend's favourite snack? She takes a handful, herself, as Luc turns on the radio. She lens back, glancing at him as he aplogizes. She didn't care. SHe liked most music. Some she couldn't stand, but this was certainly not one of them. She grewu p listening to these bands with her father. Mostly Pink Flloyd and Guns 'n' Roses. She, too, begins to sing along. "And it's hard to hold a candle ... In the cold November rain ... " Krysta sinks back into the seat, bobbing her head to the music.

(And when did this turn into a goddamned musical?) Cortez thinks bitterly to himself, sitting in his seat near Rumer with his arms crossed over his chest. Everyone knows he doesn’t want to be here. The only reason he is here is because of Rumer. If it were anyone else, Cortez would have refused to come; but hey, he knew how important this was to Rumer and he didn’t want to disappoint her. So, here he was, sitting with a look of detest at Lucas and Krysta.

The 5AM wake up call he could deal with. The cramped van he could deal with. The overly peppy group of teenagers, again, he could deal with. But not the singing. Never the singing. His lip begins to twitch, using all of his willpower to remain silent and not say anything to them. But honestly? Cortez doesn’t know how long he can take this. He looks over to Rumer, widening his eyes to show that he is starting to get annoyed.

Known for having a bad temper, this is proving rather difficult for Cortez. Unless Rumer intervened, there is no way he is going to be able to keep his mouth shut for long.

Rumer sits in the backseat of the van with Cortez and Courtney on either side of her. She smiles softly when Lucas and Krysta begin to sing along with the radio. That is, until she catches the annoyed look that Cortez throws her way. (Oh, can we at least get through one day on the road before the shit hits the fan?) Rumer’s thoughts remain her own. To voice them will do nothing but hinder what it is she hopes this road trip will achieve. Create some freakin' unity between her friends and her boyfriend.

The little rebel reaches over and places a hand on Cortez’s thigh, silently asking him to try and keep his cool, if only for her. “Hey, Krysta?” Rumer calls out to her friend, hoping that in doing so it will interrupt her impromptu deut with Lucas. She leans forward a little bit, sticking her head towards the front two seats.“Can I get one of those cereal bars, and a bottle of water?”

Smiling lazily, the brunette waits for the red head’s response.

Krysta's singing stops when she hears her name being called from a familiar voice. (So there's life back there after all.) She grins a little, figuring everyone had fallen asleep again. She sits back up and rummages through the cooler and pulls out the requested items. She hands them back to Rumer, only now noticing the very annoyed look on Cortez's face. Her eyes narrow involuntarily. So he didn't like singing, huh? Krysta suddenly has the dire urge to continue, louder, singing along with the radio.

But her glance towards Rumer reveals the reason he was on this trip. At least, in Rumer's eyes. She really didn't want him there because nothing got under her skin more than her friend's boyfriend. But Rumer was adament that if they all just got to know him a little better, they'd like him more and see him for what she sees in him. Krysta highly doubted it. But still, she kept her comments to herself, for once. Maybe Rumer was right, anyway.

Her red hair flies back as Krysta rolls her eyes at Cortez while simultaniously facing forwards. Once back to facing the road, she just shakes her head, sinking back down into the chair. But now, her feel good mood had been ruined. She just crosses her arms and glares at the road, her jaw set. (That cocky bastard had better not ruin this trip or I'll so kick his ass.)

Taking the cereal bar and bottle of water from Krysta, the darked hair girl smiles. “Thanks, hon.” Though Rumer’s smile, like before, is cut short when she witnesses the roll of Krysta’s eyes. She only has to make one guess on what the cause of the eye roll was. (Oy vy!)

Leaning back into the seat defeated, Rumer places the water bottle between her legs, and her eyes dilate. She forgot she was wearing shorts so the ice cold water bottle instantly chills her bare skin. “Ooh! Cold! Cold!” Stuttering out the words Rumer picks up the water bottle and places it on floor of the van. (Not so bright a move Rumer.)

“If I wasn’t awake before, I’m sure as hell am now!” Laughing softly, Rumer leans towards her left and buries her head into Cortez’s shoulder, only slightly embarrassed. Only because she is sure her friends are going to tease her for the idotic move. “Another embarrassing moment brought to you by Rumer Valentine...” She mutters the words under her breath, almost sure that Cortez would be the only one that could hear her. Though there is, however, a slight chance that Courtney hears her as well.

It was too hot for this early in the morning. The highway alongside which he was traveling seemed never to end as it cut a black path into the horizon, a journey that promised eternity. It had also been disconcertingly quiet of traffic; since the trucker had dumped him in the middle of this long, lonely stretch, he'd seen only two vehicles and both had sped past his upturned thumb. Only a moment of regret threaded through his mind however, Geli hadn't liked the price of the ride. Man that dude was three layers grease, seven layers shit.

He dropped the duffel bag that had collected within his worldly goods; small if you were the material kind, perfect if it was your burden to carry it. His sweatshirt was all sweat, the pale blue shades darker into grey, in the process of pulling it off he first hears the approach of the van. And what do you know...heading my way.

The shirt, hanging limply in the breeze-free air from one hand, he plasters on a friendly grin and tries to thumb down a ride. Pity there are no caves around here...I could spend the days underground and tackle these roads by night...but not if I get a ride. Wheels beat legs...except when they're attached to... His train of thought flickers down where parental guidance doesn't dare to follow.

Krysta only smiles at her friends antics to try and lighten the mood. She felt bad for not liking her friend's boyfriend, but she wasn't the only one. And she really couldn't stand how ... Frustrating the boy could be. She glances at her watch and sighs. (Well, three hours down. Only ... ten more to go.) She thinks, having calculated exactly how long it would take them to get to the coast, including various pit stops and sight seeing. (You can do this, Krys. Just don't ... look at him ... Yeah ... ) Krysta's lips quark to the side at her resolution to keep Cortez from bothering her. It likely wouldn't work, but she had to try. For Rumer. (For Rumer.)

The red head makes her resolution just as she sees a waver blob in the distance along the roadside. (What insane beast would possibly be insane enough to be out in this heat?) Krysta narrows her eyes, trying to make out the type of animal. As they get closer, the figure becomes more clear. She cocks an eyebrow, grinning. (That's no beast ... ) She sits up and rolls the window down. "Luc, stop, let him in." She says, fully expecting him to do so without questioning her. (I'd like to ... no, he's probably some weirdo. But I can't let him stay out in this heat. He'll be dehydrated and dying while I'm basking in the sun on some warm beach, hopefully filled with a lot of hot, half naked guys ... No. I can't do that.)

“Ooh! Cold! Cold!”

Cortez looks to his girlfriend, his look of annoyance slowly fading into a sympathetic smile. As she buries her head into his side, Cortez leans down and kisses her on top of her head. The smell of her hair was wonderful, of course, turning his sympathetic smile into a real smile. Hearing her whisper to him, he can’t help but keep his head towards hers and whisper back. “Well, at least you’re my embarrassment…”

What may sound like an insult is really something sweet for Cortez. He pulls his head back up as her hears Krysta suggesting to pick up a hitchhiker. “Oh, because that’s a wonderful idea.” He says, rolling his eyes slightly, “Let’s pick up the stranger who will end up killing all of us. Or worse, he’ll pull a gun out of his pants and shoot himself. Haven’t you ever seen The Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” All of this being said with annoyance in his voice, he wraps his arm around Rumer with a sigh as he looks out the window at the hitchhiker.

(Sketchy…)

Krysta's nostrils flare as she exhales quite heavily, her anger growing towards the rebellious jackass sitting behind her. Now she wanted to pick up every hitchhiker she sees on the side of the road, just to piss Cortez off even more. When he asks about the movie, her eyes widen slightly in disbelief. "Yeah, because I let movies dictate my life." Her voice is a knife dripping with the blood of sarcasm. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes once again. (Seriously, buddy. You could at least try to be in a good mood.) It seemed to be one of the themes of the trip since Cortez joined the group. Sure she knew it was based on something that had happened, but she was pretty sure it wasn't started by a hitch hiker on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere.

"Seriously, dude. What if it were you standing out there for God-knows-how-long?" She continues, now persuading the rest of the group as much as Cortez. "In this heat? We can at least take him to the next hotel or something." She suggests. He didn't have to join them the whole way. Just until Krysta's conscience is satisfied that she did what she could to help the man.

Courtney can’t help but giggle lightly at her dark haired friend. Her electric blue orbs bob over at Rumer who is already burying her head into Cortez’s shoulder. Immediately her thoughts pull onto the rebel of the gang, finding herself faced with the same dilemma she always is when she thinks about the man. (Why is she with him? What does she even see in him?) Her orbs dance over Cortez for a second; sliding over what little of him she can see. (He isn’t even that hot. I mean facial hair? The last thing I’d want would be a beard rubbing against my face while I make out with a guy.)

(Is she mental!?) Courtney bursts to life when her red headed friend suggests stopping and allowing the random man to ride with them. Her attention is pulled straight off the couple in the back of the van and straight onto the red head in front of her. “Oh my god - no way! I’m gonna have to agree with Cortez.” (I never saw that one coming.) “He could be a total nut job or something.” She leans forward, examining the man from a distance. (I don’t care how hot it is….You don’t pick up hitchhikers, you just don’t.)

“Well, at least you’re my embarrassment…”

Rumer smiles. Back-handed compliments, that’s Cortez for ya! However, she is appreciative nonetheless, because to her it only means one thing. That he cares. The arm currently draped around her says just as much. She opens her mouth to reply when she finds her blissfully romantic moment with Cortez cut short by Krysta falling into yet another argument with her boyfriend. Listening to each side’s argument, like all other times, Rumer finds herself on the fence unsure of who she should be siding with.

(They both make good points. The poor guy could be stranded...but he could also be a psycho!)

“Oh my god - no way! I’m gonna have to agree with Cortez. He could be a total nut job or something.”

Still resting her head on Cortez's shoulder, Rumer awkwardly looks towards her right, staring at the blond with a look of mild shock. Courtney is backing Cortez in an argument? (Well...considering the subject matter, who could blame her?)

“I don’t know guys...I mean, Krysta is right. We can’t just leave him out there alone. What if he’s not a psycho killer? Then again...what if he is?” Confusing herself, Rumer shakes her head to figuratively clear it of the confusion, her dark mane flowing in sync with her movements. Though in the end she is still undecided, so she looks towards the driver’s seat catching sight of Lucas’ dark hair since she only can only see him from behind. “What do you think Luc? Bad idea? Good idea?”

“Luc, stop, let him in.”

Krysta’s voice snaps Luc out of his driving-on-a-boring-road-semi-daze and he looks over to her with a confused look on his face. He can’t believe his friend has asked him to pull over to let some weirdo into his bus. He looks out of the front window and sure enough spots a him on the side of the road.

“Oh, because that’s a wonderful idea. Let’s pick up the stranger who will end up killing all of us. Or worse, he’ll pull a gun out of his pants and shoot himself. Haven’t you ever seen The Texas Chainsaw Massacre?”

He listens to the rest of the intercourse between Krysta and Cortez, a pretty much normal conversation for the two of them, and if you take into the account that they’ve been up for hours and in a bus for like forever, it’s a miracle that war hasn’t broken out.

“I’m with the dick in the back,” Luc says, for once agreeing with Cortez, “I do not want some psycho-hobo in my bus.”

He looks in the rear-view mirror as Rumer starts to speak, he watches her carefully as if he could figure out what she was actually thinking just by looking at the top of her head. He sighs and turns around to face the brunette.

“What do I think? I think it’s a bad bad bad idea, but you know what, if you wanna let him in so much, we’ll let him in, you and Krysta can sit in the back with him, that way if he is a psycho, you two can bite it first as punishment.”

Luc slows the bus, coming to a stop about a hundred yards away from Argelico. He looks at Krysta as if to say ‘out,’ she’s been officially relegated to the back of the bus, which means that either Courtney or Cortez gets to claim the shotgun seat.

“Courtney, Cortez, one of you get your asses up here. Krysta, you’re in the back ‘cause you want the psycho-hobo.”

Krysta smiles as Rumer agrees. She was the kind of person who picked her up when she decided to take random road trips on her own. She felt for the guy. Course, she was never stupid enoughto go out in this weather ... But then again, maybe he didn't have any other choice? Maybe his car broke down or something? Either way, she'd gotten herself booted out of the front seat. Which she was none too happy about. She gives Luc the infamous 'you jackass ... but alright, fine' look. "Fine." She says, undoing her seatbelt. She opens the door, but at the last minute, grabs the cooler and her bag filled with various snacks and entertainment. "But I'm taking these." She says with an air of victory. Luc wanted to sit with Cortez over her? Fine! She'd take away his snacking priveledges. At least, the ones she had control over; the granola bars, the chocolate covered raisins, her home made jams and bread, several bottles of pop and juice, the stash of various sweet and salty goodies in her bag.

She pushes the door open with her foot and jumps out, looking down the road at the man they were about to invite into their little group for a short time. (Just until we see any sign of life ... ) He stomach suddenly flashes with butteflies as she thinks twice about her decision. (Quit worrying, Krysta. This isn't a horror movie.) She turns back to Luc, sticking her tongue out at him teasingly. She sets the cooler on the road to free her hand in order to open the side door. She gives Cortez her usual glare as she stuffs the cooler beside the seat. (Better get your ass in that seat, buddy, or I'll replace you with the psycho killer!) The look on her face clearly shows her feelings.

She steps back to see the hitch hiker and waves an arm at him. "Hurry up, it's hot as Haides out here!" She calls to the man. She remembers the contents of her bag. (At least if he tries to kill us all, I can at least defend us with something from that very large jack knife if mine.) She thinks, projecting her thougths towards those who were against picking the poor guy up. Her eyes turn back towards Cortez, impatiently waiting for him to exit the vehicle.

Rumer’s eyes widen at the actual prospect of being in the backseat with a potential psycho killer. “Fine, whatever Lucas, but Cortez is staying back here with me and Krysta.” (I may want to take risks, but not that big of a risk!) Rumer sits upright and runs a hand through her hair before speaking up again. “Besides,” Glancing over towards the blond in the group, Rumer adds, “I think Courtney will feel much safer if she was in the front with you.”

When Krysta opens the side door to the psychedelic van Rumer turns to look at her red head friend with a determined flare. “I’m not sitting next to that guy, by the way.” Leaning towards the door, Rumer attempts to stick her head out the side of the vehicle to get a good look at the guy she quite recklessly agreed to pick up. “I mean if he turns out to be a psycho--” Rumer pauses in her words as she catches sight of the physique belonging the muscle bound hitchhiker. “--glistening, muscle-bound god!”

Biting down on her lower lip, she grins in silent appreciation. “There’s no way someone that hot is a psycho killer.” Remembering where she is and who she is with, Rumer quickly clears her throat in not so subtle guilt. “Not that I, you know, am attracted to guys like him. I mean...” Pulling her head back into the van, Rumer turns towards Cortez and gives him a full on grin. “You know I love you right?”

(Great, now I’ve got some serious ass kissing to do! Why do I always put my foot in my mouth?)

Krysta scowls at the thought of sharing any seat with Cortez. "Fine. I'll take the back seat and sit with him-" She's cut off as Rumer pokes her head out and sees what had first caught the red-head's attention. She can't help but laugh. "Thank you!!" She exclaims, throwing her arms in the air in a very teenage, dramatic way. Not having a boyfriend, herself, it doesn't dawn on her that she probably just got herself thrown i nthe dog-house. She feels sorry for her, but can't help but feel some sort of smug satisfaction that Cortez was just pissed off by the only person that actually likes him. She throws him a glare, accompanied by a grin which can only be described as pure evil.

The heat of the day finally gets to her and she begins to fan herself by pinching a small section of her shirt and pulling it away from her body in rapid succession. Her cheeks puff out as she exhales. "Pffff! Holy hell it's hot out here. She pull a home made demin scrunchie from her bag and ties her long red hair up into it, hoping to ease some of the intense heat. But it doesn't really help. Her eyes go back to the man down the road as she shifts her weight to on foot, her hip jutting out in obvious impatience. (Okay, seriously, if that guy's not here in about two seconds, I don't care how hot he is, I'm jumping back into this van and we're gone ...)

It's was like the first time he'd tasted cotton candy ... really tasted it and it had been better than the fantasy. After his last ride, the gray, green, greasy trucker, Rossetti's Damozel was way beyond imagining cotton candy. This was getting two whole bags of the stuff to himself. When was the last time I even had candy ... let alone cotton? Cotton ... cotton lingerie ... red or black? He had to forcibly wrestle down thoughts before they started building erections that wouldn't easily be tumbled down.

He debated rooting around in his bag for a fresh shirt, but Rossetti's muse had already flitted towards impatience, her body language going from relaxed and almost - dare he consider it - inviting towards harder lines. Can't blame her in this heat ... gotta close the doors to heaven if you want to keep out the fires of hell.

He figured they could tell him to put on a shirt, moved towards the redhead and the van, segueing into a smooth jog that some part of his mind was calculating to restore a little good will. See Geli run. Anatomy had always been a fascination, it was breathtaking the way the musculature was brought even more strongly forward by a body in motion; Argelico made the exertion count. It was hot - as the red haired muse had pointed out - as hell, he hoped the debits and credits would at least balance each other out.

"Thanks," he said as he reached Krysta, smiled and tried not to betray any hint of strain. Geli strong and fit, good DNA. "The past couple of hours on this road have been murder."

Courtney sits defeated in her seat as the others argue about what to do and then who should join Lucas up in the front seat. She is really unhappy about letting the stranger in, no mater how much of a glistening, muscle-bound god he is, as Rumer put it. Cross armed, she glares at Krysta and Rumer, loathing her friends for a split second. This has to be the most irresponsible, stupid thing they have done in their entire life. Well, for Krysta at least, going out with Cortez has to be the most stupid thing her Raven haired friend has done.

At the demand for her to exit the back of the vehicle, Courtney more than happily obliges. She shuffles along, plopping to the ground with a little bit of a bounce. She passes Argelico by just inches, his manly odour wafting up her nostrils. She doesn’t cringe - it’s actually rather attractive and Courtz hates herself for admitting this. He’s a hottie, she’ll give him that, but he could still be a hottie with a gun. (We shouldn’t be doing this. We just shouldn’t)

Courtney jumps back aboard the van, sliding along beside her best male friend. She flashes him a look that screams ‘are you sure you know what you’re doing?’. The blonde doesn’t look back, knowing that the disapproving look would still be plastered across her face. She just can’t believe what they are doing. (The past couple hours have been murder? Well he better not make the next couple so…)

Leaning forward Rumer gives Cortez a quick kiss on the lips in an attempt to help get her out of the dog house. Moving closer to her boyfriend, she turns her head to look at Krysta, hoping that her friend gets in the car before the shirtless hitchhiker. Otherwise, she’d have trouble making things up to Cortez if she has to sit next to someone who she boldly admitted was quite attractive to her.

"The past couple of hours on this road have been murder."

(Speak of the devil.) Her brown eyes are drawn towards Courtney and Rumer starts to whisper a sly remark to her friend, but doesn’t as she watches Courtz shuffle out of the seat beside her to get out the van. (Great, now I have two people pissed at me!) Once Courtney has made her way into the front seat, Rumer prepares to do some damage control with best friend. So leaning forward, she rests her chin on shoulder of the front passenger seat and cants her head to drink in the sight of the blond.

“C’mon Courtz, I can’t have you mad at me too…” The raven haired teen pouts her lips, relying on making an amends through the use of the old puppy dog eyes routine. “Luc’s angels have got to stick together." She smiles at the use of the nickname sometimes used to describe her and her two girlfriends. "No matter what.”

Krysta cringes a little at Courtney's reaction. She thought for sure she'd have the support of both girls. But she was apparently sadly mistaken. Oh well. The damage has been done. And besides. The red head is positive this guy's fine. (I mean, after all, I used to hitch hike all the time. And I'm not a killer.) She sighs a little, grabbing her bag and climbing into the van as she leans forward to talk to Courtz. She grins, knowing that the girl was going to use the puppy dog eyes that she was so good at.

But, rather than sitting next to Rumer, she heads to the back seat where there was more room. Granted, she'd have to deal with watching Rumer and Cortez being all mushy, but there was more room in the back seat. She shudders at the thought of having to watch (Ew, ew, ew, ew!) She stops all images by beckoning to Argelico.

"C'mon, there's more room back here." She says, moving some of their things around to make room for his backpack. She also pulls the cooler to the back with her, giving Luc a look of smug satisfaction.

Courtney’s scowl lightens as Rumer leans forward. She’s playing the guilt card and the blonde knows it. Yet, the cheerleader can’t help but crack a smirk at the witty remark, or help but feel her heart warm from the brunette’s puppy dog eyes. (Dammit! Why do I always fall for this?!) Courtney murmurs, knowing that she can no longer stay mad at her friend. She’s far too much of a push over to stay mad at any of them, well bar from Cortez. He, she could glare at for days.

“Angels till the end” Courtney replies with a playful wink. It’s a confirmation to Rumer that she’s no longer mad…well she is, but she’ll get over it. It’s the quadruplet’s little joke, that she and the other two girls are Luc’s angels. They’ve had that going since the four of them pretty much got together.

“It’s alright. He doesn’t seem that bad” She whispers in a hushed voice, her eyes bobbing from the dark haired women onto the man beside her. “He’s pretty yummy too” Courtney chuckles, her voice still low so that hopefully only Rumer and Luc would be able to hear. (I was just overreacting. He’s nothing we can’t handle…I’ll just not tell mom and dad – they would totally freak if they found out about this)

He took in the others, sensing that the decision to stop and pick him up hadn't been universal and that a schism had developed. It was obvious that the Rossetti babe was his pope, but he wasn't sure which among the group was her polar opposite. Man, hitching has gone down since the golden age ... gray green greasies ... those that never stop ... or those with a little milk of human kindness weft within their weave.

The blonde emerges from the van and wordless skirts him by and a moment later her name is on the lips of the grunge-goth girl with the grunge-goth guy - couple - "C’mon Courtz, I can’t have you mad at me too…" Grunge-goth was with his Pope, but glancing at her partner, he felt certain the couple weren't united on that front. Luc’s angels have got to stick together. No matter what.” He pondered that a moment - driver or not - and just hoped that Luke wasn't short for Lucifer; he wasn't up for ritual. Well, maybe later.

His Rossetti moves into the cooler confines of the van and then "C'mon, there's more room back here." blesses him with an invitation. Of all the roads I've walked down, this one started off worst and looks like it's ending up pretty darn up there with the best.

He throws the grunge-goth girl a smile as he makes his way into the back; slips into the offered seat and gives Krysta a wide smile. "Argelico Favero ... thank you for the rescue."

"Argelico Favero ... thank you for the rescue."

Today was just not Cortez's day. He remains silent in his seat, looking from Rumer to Argelico. (What the hell kind of name is Argelico?) Cortez thinks bitterly to himself, a little angry at the new comer. Not only for the fact that he had been outvoted about letting him in the van, but also his girlfriend had audibly lusted over Argelico's body. Sure, Cortez might be a jackass, but that doesn't mean he isn't self conscious.

The kiss did make it a little bit better, however, he wasn't going to let Rumer get out of the dog house that quickly. He gives her a look that says 'it's not going to be that easy', letting out a sigh and turning back to Argelico. "Cortez." He says simply, though there could be a sense of resentment found in his voice if someone tuned into that kind of thing. "Where are you from?" He adds, the same bit of resentment fueling his voice.

(Well someone has to find out who he is...)

"Cortez. Where are you from?" He was drawn away from his quest for a single name by the offering up of another - grunge-goth - who Geli couldn't help but perceive in the role of Inquisitor. I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition ... Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. He wondered if there was any way to defuse the situation, the schism he'd sensed, but he was amongst a group of strangers and just because Cortez looked like 'most likely to carry a concealed weapon' didn't make him so.

"Hey ... someone else with a foreign name," a flash of white, a wide toothy, Geli smile. Is that something in common or way too tenuous a thread to start off on? "Wolfeboro Falls ... but it's not really a tourist destination." And it's no more where Argelico comes from than Montmartre, or Adelaide ... but I mostly grew up there, so ... I guess it counts more than either of the other. He hoped that there'd be no pliers for the next question. Well ... depending intention and how they were used.

Krysta hears Rumer and Courtney's whispers in the background as she watches Agrelico climb in next to her. She immediately reaches for a bottle of water and hands it to him, knowing he must be parched. (Interesting name.) She thinks fondly. She always loved different names. Her's was so ... Boring. Typical. Before Krysta can say anything, Cortez pipes up. She shoots him a grimmacing glance, her nostrils flaring. The usual reaction to his usurping her friends. Well. Friend. And possible friend. (Fuck off, jackass.) Venom thoughts for a vemon master.

Her brow furrows, not having heard of the place. It sounded fascinating, though. Like a place that you could have a good, solid adventure. Or at least, a beautiful place to take your summer vacations. "Well, I'm Krysta, that's Rumer, Courtney and Lucas." She informs him, pointing to each as she says her best friends' names. "We're from that stain you likely just left," She says with a grin, figuring that the man had just come from their hometown.

She glances at the open side door. "So, Rumer, doll, yo ugonna close the door for us or are we gonna cool off this god forsaken place?" She asks, her typical sarcastic mannerisms shining through. "This angel's freaking dying of heat." She grins, having heard that part of their whisperings.

“He’s pretty yummy too...”

Rumer smiles as Courtney relents. “That is...” She pauses as Argelico climbs into the van and notices that Cortez gives the tanned stranger a not so welcoming glare. (I doubt I’m out of the dog house yet.) “...so depending on your perspective.” She grins as she leans back into her seat, thankful that Krysta has taken up residence in the far back of the van with Argelico. (Hopefully he’ll keep her distracted enough so that she and Cortez won’t try to kill each other.)

Half-listening to the conversation that starts up between Cortez and the new guy, Rumer would have to be blind and deaf not to notice the underlying tension that is starting to build up. (Great...)

"So, Rumer, doll, you gonna close the door for us or are we gonna cool off this god forsaken place? This angel's freaking dying of heat."

This causes the raven haired teen to playfully roll her eyes, and she leans over towards the door to quickly slide it shut. A loud shutter echoes across the van. “Mission accomplished, angel.” Giving Krysta the infamous military salute, Rumer settles back into her seat, and looks over towards Cortez. “So what do I have to do to make things up with you?”

"Well, I'm Krysta, that's Rumer, Courtney and Lucas. We're from that stain you likely just left."

At last the Rossetti had a name. He took in her introductions, trying to mentally match people to their names, something he was intolerably bad at. Man ... hope there's no pop quiz later. He decided that they were Lucas' angels for some reason and ruled out a college band when he didn't spot any musical instruments. Accepting the water he made a point of saying her name, "Thanks, Krysta." He opened up the bottle, took a swig before offering up another smile.

He watches the exchange between the Rum flavoured angel and Krysta, wonders if the schism existed because of him or if Cortez was a hitchhiker of another kind. They haven't been on the road that long ... war must have broken out pre-road-trip. He makes the effort to engage with the one person who seemed most happy to have him around. "You're a sight more welcome" - and a hell of a lick more attractive - "than the last ride I got out of your so called stain ... he must have come from the really low class side of it, like sewer level." Gray, green, greasy ... thanks for doing me one hell of a favour.

Krysta gives the raven-haired angel an ironic grin as she salutes her. But when she cuddles up to the bane of her existence. Her eyes narrow and she glares again, put off that her best friend would rather suck up to him for something that every girl does. Hell, every guy does it all the time, girlfriend present or not. Why shouldn't she do it? She was sure Cortez did it all the time. It was written into male DNA to check out other girls. Or guys. Whatever their fancy. She remembers a conversation she'd had with a guy she dated once in grade ten or something. Well, it was more of an arguement. Which effectively ended the date, and any chance of any more dates. But back to the current situation.

Somewhere deep in the reccesses of her mind, she couldn't really blame the guy for giving her a hard time. I mean, he was right there. Cortez was probably smart enough not to do it while she could see or hear any comments. (Oh, God, did I just call him smart?) But either way, why should Rumer be in shit for doing something that comes natural to every human being? What's with the double fucking double standard, already?

The fiery red head is about to open her mouth to voice her opinion on the matter when their newest arrival speaks up, distracting her. Her head whips back towards him, her facial expression going from pure rage to winsome and coy in a matter of nanoseconds. She giggles. Yes, actually giggles. (Ugh! What the hell's wrong with you?) The description was very apt for the lower of the lower class of people in her hometown. "Yeah, I can imagine." She grins, looking into his eyes. "I've run into a few of them." Her nose wrinkles, remembering the experiences. One was enough. But she'd had the priveledge to cross their paths several times.

She shudders, remembering one of the more ... personal encounters with one of them. He didn't get too far before she sank her fist into the asshole's face, leaving behind a rather large bruise that stretched about two inches around his eye. He never bothered her again after that, making sure to keep his distance. "So. What are you doing around here?" She asks, hoping to quell the previous suspiscions of a serial killer. "Looking for some teeagers to mass murder?" She asks, glancing in Cortez's direction with asly smile on her face. That's right, she said it.

He believes that they have chemistry; it's just a question of how far the alchemy will go. He takes another sip of water, trying to place her voice as though he were categorising musical instruments. "So. What are you doing around here? Looking for some teenagers to mass murder?"

He grins, "I've never progressed beyond pin the tail on the donkey ... trauma enough without reducing bodies down to their constituent parts, which is why I disappointed my mother and never became a doctor." People say the darnedest things. "There's some caves down south that a group of amateurs want to spelonk. They've promised to pay for a little professional babysitting ... so I'm heading that way." Money makes the world go round ... and I need enough to get a flight out for some Italian. He wondered again at the reason this group was out on the road that seemed bound for nowhere. "Why ... are you a bunch of teenagers out to find a mass murderer, kind of like Blair Witch only without the witch?"

He wondered if Krysta liked scary movies ... Or is this a game I'm not aware of? He hoped she'd smile, giggle again or turn the conversation down more promising paths. Red is the new babe.

WHen Argelico confirms that he's not a mass murderer, she gives Cortez one of her infamous 'told ya so' looks, feeling quite proud of herself. Of course, the odds that this man was indeed some psycho were rather slim, in the red head's eyes, but still. It was one more victory against the pile of steaming dung her best friend had feelings for. (It's gotta just be hormones. Please just be hormones.) She begs silently, something she did often. But it still seemed to be running strong. An article she read about said 'hormones' actually lasting for two to three years rings in her mind and she pouts inwardly.

She does grin at Agelico's comments, however. (Hot and witty. Double score!) As the newcomer to their gang explained his presence, her mind swims with the possible adventure. (Sounds like fun!) She ponders joining him. She gives the comprehending nod.

She laughs, again, this time the more chuckle laugh that she's used to. (Much better.) She thinks approvingly of herself. She had finally regained her composure. "No, actually." She begins to explain. "This horror buffs thought you were some psycho out for the kill." She grins, throing a friendly glance at Rumer, Courtney and Lucas, and a more menacing one towards Cortez. Any chance to let him know that yes, she still hates him. Childish, perhaps. But hey. She's still a teen. "Although I may be up for the adventure that would be, we've been plannign aroad trip t o the coast since about May." She finishes her explanation, thinking about the Blair Witch movie. (God that thing was horrible ... )

Courtney regains the warm grin she sported before the van picked up their newest arrival. After all, she’s up here with Luc, not back there with the hot but potential psychotic serial killer. She isn’t exactly first on the chopping block. The likely hood of that happening is slim to none though, so her worries are eased, at least momentarily. She simply sits in silence, her eyes staring out the window ahead of her, her eyes picking up the background noise of those behind her. (I just can’t wait till we get there…it’s far too hot to be stuck in a van all day)

(Krysta!!!) Courtney’s head turns speedily to face the redhead, shooting her a look that could kill. She’s just blurted out that they didn’t want the guy riding with them, something the blonde isn’t too keen on. (She always does that. She always drops us in it!) A glint of aggravation lingers in the woman’s expression, turning back to stare out the window ahead of her. She’s not going to bring it up, at least not here. Courtney is certainly more the passive aggressive type.

She doesn’t know what it is, maybe the overwhelming heat? Or perhaps the lack of understanding to her views about picking up Argelico? But Krysta has started to annoy Courtney. The idea of even being nice to Cortez just to get back at the woman even crosses her mind…though it isn’t fulfilled. Two wrongs don’t make a right and well…she doesn’t know if she could be nice to him. A pleasant conversation with the rugged bad-boy seems completely unrealistic.

“So let’s get this show on the road” Courtney exchanges a glance with Lucas, hoping the dark haired man would be able to cheer her up somehow. A witty joke? A playful expression? Even a boyish smile would do. He’s always had the ability to brighten up even the darkest of her days. It’s one of the reasons why she loves him so much.

"These horror buffs thought you were some psycho out for the kill." And I thought I looked rather more like the distressed than the distressor ... must be my .... no, don't have the horribly scarred face or the hook for a hand and that is plainly not a gun in my pants. "Although I may be up for the adventure that would be, we've been planning a road trip to the coast since about May."

It was impossible to miss the interplay between Krysta and the rest of the group. He tried to disguise his own quick study of Cortez, but whatever fired the venom probably lay beneath the skin. It's kind of like joining Abba on tour ... everybody is everybody's ex and the issues are plied on so thick you could choke on the viscous atmosphere. He doubted they'd still be friends when they moved out into that 'real world' one stepped into post education.

"I'm almost sorry to disappoint," Geli's eyes turn back to Krysta, "I realise I skipped the strip search part of the hitchhiking protocol; maybe we should start again?" He grins. "I've always enjoyed the road trips I've been on ... you usually end up where you never expected to." Can't remember one that didn't change me one way or the other ... should have bailed out on some, would take others over again.

He heard the voice of the blonde up front, Courtney, but failed to catch her words. He would have glanced in her direction, if only because the silent driver had yet to become more than a two dimensional presence in the vehicle, but Krysta was his primary siren. Later ...

Krysta had caught the steel look from her best friend who had more than willingly confiscated her comfy front seat and gives her a 'what? It's not hurting anyone' look before turning her attention backt to Argelico. She knew her friends had never really approved of her hitchhiking adventures, but it was fun. You met some pretty cool people along the way and it was always an adventure. Of course, had the fiery red head met with some of the more distateful hitchhiker picker uppers, she would probably not be so optimistic. Her brow raises and her lips turn to the side in an intrigued smile at the mention of a strip search. "Don't tempt me." She says, pondering what she could do to his sweaty, naked (Krysta! Get ahold of yourself!) She berrates herself, though not as coldly as the others would have.

"Mm, I totally agree," She says, taking a gulp of her own water. "I've never been out of state before, always managed to get back in time to go to school at ... Nine in the morning," She grins, remembering the lectures she'd gotten from Luc and Courtz. "But they were always exciting." Krysta turns her body so she's leaning against the window of the bus, her knee lay on the seat between herself and Argelico, her bare foot hanging over the edge. She mentally pats herself on the back for giving herself a pedicure the night befor.e Not something she typically did, but for some reason she felt a little girlie last night.

"I realise I skipped the strip search part of the hitchhiking protocol; maybe we should start again?"

Rumer attempts to ignore the on goings between Argelico and Krysta. Meanwhile, Cortez continues to give her the silent treatment, so she slides closer to him and throws her legs over his lap. It’s much harder for a person to ignore you when you’re practically on top of them. Rumer smiles, knowing that if she and Cortez were alone that practically would be non-existent.

"Don't tempt me."

Now that caught her attention. With a mock gasp, Rumer turns her head to stare at her friend. “Krys...! Subtlety, boys like a girl who can play hard to get.” Chewing down on her lower lip, the playfulness of her words is mirrored in the smile held in her eyes. She looks at Argelico, and nods once again; approving her friend’s taste in guys. (See, it’s not hard to do! Now why can’t she be happy for me!)

Turning back around to face her beau, Rumer leans into him and presses her lips against his neck. The playful rebel launches into a trail of light kisses, working her way up to her boyfriend’s ear. She completely ignores the advice she just gave Krysta, after all, that only works before you’ve had sex with the guy. Once her lips reach his ear she whispers to him softly. “Babe, come on. You know I prefer sexy-grungy over cookie-cutter-model any day.” To ensure she gets some sort of reaction out of Cortez, the goth girl begins to gently nibble on his ear lobe. (Try to ignore me now!)

Lucas offers Argelico a brief nod as Krysta points him out to the new guy in the van. He watches the interaction in the back half of the bus, paying close attention to Argelico, any sign of craziness and that dude will be out on his ass, and possibly have the bus reversed over him, just to make sure he didn’t try anything crazy. He looks over at Courtney as she gets into the front passenger seat of the bus. But then his attention returns to the group in the back. At least Cortez is back there, if the guy does turn out to be totally insane, they can use Cortez as a human shield to escape. There’s definitely no love lost between Luc and Rumer’s boyfriend.

“So let’s get this show on the road”

“Fasten your seatbelts, Angels, we’re gonna see what this thing can do. I’ll have to warn you all now, I’ve never given this thing a test drive and I don’t think it was meant to have an engine this powerful in it.”

Luc is obviously referring to the complete re-build he did with the bus over the last 12 months, the only thing left from the original vehicle are the metal body and the shiny metal wheel covers. The rest has been entirely rebuilt from scratch, including a brand new engine, entirely new electronics inside, including air-con, a CD player, digital radio, digital clock, the works. The engine, Luc knows, is capable of making the bus do at least 150 miles per hour, but until now he’s never had the chance to test it. He re-starts the engine and pulls off, pushing the bus to speeds that it probably shouldn’t be forced to go.

It is true, humans do have a predilection for piloting vehicles at unsafe velocities.

He keeps his eye on the speedometer, the bus is quite comfortably doing 120, so he gives it a little more gas, trying to push it to the max. The bus maxes out at about 135, which for a bus is pretty damn good. He eases off and drops down the speed so that he’s not breaking any laws any more.