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A Place In This World (Collector of Rarities x Nobodysangel)

Collector of Rarities

Collector of Rarities

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Joined
May 25, 2011
Desmond was a bit nervous as he walked towards The Bronx Library. For one thing, he was from Boston and a little irrational fear in the back of his mind kept nagging at him that some New Yorker would somehow realize that he was a Red Sox fan and start harassing him. For another, he was nervous about meeting his friend, whom he only knew by her username, TheBoisterousKumquat. He knew that she had an intellect to rival his own, but he'd never seen a picture of her, let alone actually heard her voice. He'd talked to women before, but it seemed far more intimidating to talk to someone who had once been nothing but text on a screen.

Desmond stood at an even six feet with black hair and green eyes. He wasn't too nervous walking through the Bronx alone, since he had a rather athletic build which, coupled with his height, was more than enough to discourage muggers. Then again, he wasn't sure if there actually were muggers to be worried about or if he was just being paranoid because he was alone in a place he didn't know. Still, he didn't stand out too much: he was wearing a gray MIT hoodie, simple blue jeans, a CAKE t-shirt and black sneakers. All he had on him at the moment was his wallet, although he'd only brought $40 with him, opting to use his credit card for any larger purchases.

He'd told TheBoisterousKumquat, who knew him as Dr. Hyde, that he'd be wearing the MIT hoodie so that she could easily spot him, but he was a bit nervous that she'd miss him and he'd look like a fool. Or that she'd lost her nerve and he'd driven all the way from Boston for nothing. In fact, the closer he got to the library, the more nervous he became himself. By the time that he was reaching for the door, he was thinking of bolting.

He'd met his friend in one of the online classes offered by MIT. He'd been feeling lazy that semester and he'd decided that taking a class where he didn't have to leave his room would be a good idea. He'd been paired up with her on a project and the two of them had instantly clicked. Biology was Desmond's major, but TheBoisterousKumquat seemed to be on the same page as him, despite the fact that she hadn't studied the subject as extensively as he had. Now that Desmond had graduated and was preparing to do his own research, his friend had been the first person to spring to mind as a possible lab assistant or even partner. He already knew she was smart and it would save him the trouble of putting out wanted ads, but he wanted to get to know her in person before offering her the job. Which was precisely why he hadn't told her that he was going to offer her a job. He didn't want to put any pressure on her from the moment they met, after all.
 
Before the advent of the internet, taking college classes without having even finished middle school would have been a problem. The nice part about the Massachusetts Institute of Technology was that it put a lot of it's coursework and seminars online for free for anyone to use. They didn't ask questions about things she didn't want to talk about, like why she'd never finished eighth grade officially, or why her mail was forwarded to the Jackson Prescott Memorial Rescue Mission, or why she was doing all of her coursework from a library in the Bronx rather than her own home. Lots of people just asked so many questions, and Ris didn't like it particularly. After all, why should she want to field questions that she didn't know the answers to herself?

She'd been huddled up in a corner of the Bronx Library since they'd opened at eight am; the shelter didn't let anyone stay on premises during the day, so most of the people went and did various things during the day. Ris rode the subway for an hour or so until the library opened and then spent her day there, refilling a water bottle from the water fountain and surreptitiously creating copies of the little bag of Chex Mix she'd bought two weeks ago. She was very, very careful not to do that where anyone could see her; if there was one thing that the Facility (capital F; it was a very capital first letter sort of place, all uniforms and white walls and people trying to 'scare her straight'. What they wanted to scare her away from she never quite understood) had taught her, it was to never, never let anyone else see what she could do. It made people afraid and angry, and so she hid in the bathroom stall and turned the molecules of stacks and stacks of paper towels into snack sized bags of Chex Mix for her daily meals.

She posed a strange picture to most people used to a certain 'image' of the homeless. She was young, tall and painfully thin, bundled up in a heavy coat that came down to her knees, open to expose her faded red tee shirt and threadbare blue jeans. Her sneakers had obviously seen better days, though they were new enough to not have the soles worn through yet. A large backpack sat beside her as she curled up in the chair in front of one of the library computers, idly reading through scientific journals and research papers. Ever since she'd been released from the Facility, she had devoured books, online seminars, free Internet courses and everything else she could get her hands on. It made her happy when few things else in the world did right now, and the fact that she had people to talk to, people that liked to discuss science and literature, music and history and mathematics with her and didn't care to even ask anything else about her. She was simply TheBoisterousKumquat, and that was wonderfully liberating.

And then Dr. Hyde had mentioned wanting to meet her, and she had, to her own shock, accepted. They'd taken an online microbiology course together and they'd gotten along quite well and now Dr. Hyde wanted to meet her. He'd explained that he'd meet her at a public place for safety and comfort's sake, what he'd be wearing and what he'd look like. So, instead of reading and picking up another class or four, she was simply sitting in her chair, staring at the door, arranging her pieces of Chex Mix into piles of the individual pieces. Her shaggy, unevenly cut brown hair hung in her face, her blue-gray eyes focused and intent as she concentrated on the door, wondering if she would recognize him when he came in. The idea of meeting and talking with a real person was more than a little frightening, but she reasoned that she couldn't just hide behind a computer screen forever, and it would be nice to actually have a real, living friend for once.
 
Desmond didn't know what Ris looked like. For that matter, he didn't know who Ris was. He'd dressed exactly as he'd said he would in his message to her and he towered over most people in the room, making it fairly hard to miss him. He hadn't asked Ris to tell him what she looked like. In fact, he'd even told her that she didn't need to give out any personal information that she wasn't comfortable with giving out. He'd simply said that he'd wanted to meet her and spend as much time as she was willing to give him with her.

It was obvious that he was nervous; Desmond had incredible control over his body in all respects except for how he displayed his emotions. He shifted nervously from foot to foot, still not entirely sure that this was a good idea. He'd have been fine coming out to see a friend he'd met in person, but the fact that he didn't even know her name was slightly disconcerting to him. He honestly didn't know what he was expecting: she could be any ethnicity, shape, size or age. So he stood in the middle of the room, nervously scanning the crowd for every woman he could spot, wondering if she was the person he was supposed to be meeting. He didn't notice Ris at first, but eventually he spotted a homeless girl sitting on a chair playing with Chex Mix and staring right at him. Confusion, then recognition, then surprise swam across his face. Was this the girl he was meeting? She'd been staring at him for a little while now and he spied a look of recognition in her eye. He'd expected a lot of things, but certainly not this. She looked so thin that he wondered if a light breeze could have carried her away, not to mention the fact that she was obviously homeless. Desmond felt a strong instinct to bolt, but stomped it down: it would be disrespectful to her and it would entirely negate the reason why he came here. He took a deep breath for courage and walked over to Ris, putting on the friendliest smile he could manage.

"TheBoisterousKumquat, I presume?" he said, his voice a little softer than he'd intended. God, he'd never been so nervous in his life.
 
It was fairly easy; within a few seconds of him coming into the library, she knew it was him. However, she didn't speak up right away, but let him look around a bit first, get a bit of a feel for him. Body language, movement, things like that spoke volumes about a person. She could tell the moment that he recognized her and to be honest, she wished that he hadn't. When their eyes met, she watched him for a few seconds, blinking slowly, then bowed her head to her Chex Mix once more. She was giving him an out, if he wanted it. She wouldn't be upset; after all, who comes down from Boston to meet a colleague, finds a homeless girl and isn't disappointed? She turned her attention back to her sorting of her Chex Mix and let him leave, and resolved that she would think no more of it.

She wasn't at all prepared for him to come over to her and call her by her online name. She looked up at him, blinking owlishly, her blue-gray eyes wide in her pixish face, the high cheekbones and sharp chin giving her a vaguely heartshaped face. Her lips, pink and slightly chapped, pursed in surprise and she tilted her head slightly, birdlike, before bowing her head to her work again. "Dr. Hyde." She replied quietly, carefully selecting a twisty pretzel and putting it in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. He looked surprised. She supposed that was reasonable enough. It was a common stereotype that homeless people were gibbering, uneducated crazy people. She didn't gibber very often, not unless she was truly stressed beyond all ability to handle herself, but she was rather uneducated from a strictly formal point of view, and she could be construed as crazy so the perception wasn't entirely fallacious in regards to her. "I hope you had a nice drive." She said, sounding vaguely like a child parroting back pleasantries, her voice quiet and with a deep Southern twang to it. You could take the girl out of Kentucky but you couldn't take Kentucky out of the girl, it seemed.

"Are you leaving now?" She asked, entirely too blunt to be considered polite. "If you are, drive safely." She managed a small smile before bowing her head to her sorting once more, choosing another carefully selected twisty pretzel and eating it in that slow, deliberate manner. She would be polite. She wouldn't make him stay or feel bad or angry about him choosing to leave. She wasn't sure what he'd been expecting to meet, but she was in no doubt that it wasn't her.
 
"Well, it'd be a waste of gas if I just turned around and left," said Desmond, a little unsure of how to react. He couldn't tell if she was giving him an out or if she'd genuinely changed her mind about wanting to meet him. "And besides, if you're half as smart offline as you are online, I think that it was worth the trip. You can call me Desmond, by the way. Desmond Waters."

He tentatively held out a hand for Ris to shake. Desmond's face was well-formed and handsome. Ris might have heard the term "chiseled jaw" before, but it never really made sense until she saw Desmond's jawline. He had a thin layer of stubble along his jaw, as well as connecting sideburns, though he did not have a mustache: Desmond had never been able to grow hair on his upper lip. His voice was a bit soft for a man's, though it was certainly deep. Desmond had never been a very loud person unless you got him very drunk, which happened rarely.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to, okay?" he said, hoping to encourage her. "If you gorw tired of my company, you can just ask me to leave and I'll go. You aren't what I was expecting, but I really didn't know what to expect, so I'm going to call it even."
 
She looked up at him, a bit of wary surprise in her expression as she reached out her hand to shake his carefully. Her hand was cold, her fingers long and slender, and she shook his hand for the barest amount of time considered polite, then withdrew back to her Chex Mix. He had a very nice voice and very pretty eyes, she had to admit. "Thank you Desmond Waters. I'm Damaris MacMurray. You may call me Ris. It's nice to meet you." She unfolded her legs from under her and curled them back; if she'd stood, she'd have been a bare inch and a half shy of six feet herself.

"I don't know how smart you think I am online so I'm not positive how to reassure that you didn't waste the gas it took coming here, which given gas prices and the gallon-to-mileage ratio of your car being an unknown variable could be an entirely subjective conclusion. I hope you didn't waste your gas or your time, a considerably more finite resource." She pushed a tiny pile of wheat Chex towards him as a peace offering. "Hungry? I only like the rice Chex pieces, not the wheat ones. And it would be entirely out of my jurisdiction to ask you to leave. I don't own the library, I just tend to stay here during the day. So to be honest, unless the city of New York, or the administration of this particular public library grows tired of your patronage, which is considerably smaller than most people here since you drove from Boston, there's no reason at all for you to leave, no matter who grows tired of whose company first." Another carefully selected pretzel, another slow, quiet chewing, as if she were doing her best to eat as politely as humanly possible.
 
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Ris," said Desmond, his voice becoming much friendlier. "If you're willing to hang out and talk for a while, I don't think I wasted my time or gas. Is there some place you'd like to go and chat? Or is here fine for you?"

Desmond had more than a sneaking suspicion that Ris was somewhere on the Autism spectrum, albeit very high-functioning. Furthermore, she was nervous, which might make talking to her easier. He had a feeling that she'd be much more open if he could find a way to calm her down. He accepted the Chex piece and popped it into his mouth; Chex wasn't his favorite snack, but he wanted to set Ris at ease.

"I'm not concerned about whether or not I'm allowed to be anywhere," he said, diplomatically. "What I want to know is whether or not you want me to be here. I don't want to be here if I'm bothering you or making you feel uncomfortable, so I'll leave the moment you don't want me around anymore. Sound good?"
 
She looked around a moment, biting her lip and considering these things. "No, I'd like to stay here. I like it here." Her daily routine was always the same. Wake up at 5 am, have breakfast (oatmeal with brown sugar and butter, wheat toast with strawberry jelly, orange juice and three strips of bacon, chewy not crispy. Shower at 5:30 am, dress at 5:40, at the bus stop by 6 am, bus to the nearest subway station by 6:15 am, ride the subway for precisely one hour, bus to the Bronx Library at 7:20 and arrival at 7:45, wait for fifteen minutes for the doors to open at 8 am. She disliked holidays as they interrupted her schedule but the library closed fairly late, giving her plenty of time to get to the bus stop and head back to the shelter for dinner, chapel and lights out. Weekends were painful because of the reduced hours, and so she had to spend her time hiding out in the back corners of bookstores, hoping no one ran her off for loitering or vagrancy. The library simply felt more comfortable.

She nodded quietly to his question; it did sound good. "I don't mind you being here. You came to meet me. It would be very silly for me to mind you being here when I told you it was alright for you to be here." She said, her voice soft and girlish, curling in on herself and hunching her back slightly as she ate another pretzel. The little packet was rapidly diminishing, soon she'd be finished with the pretzels and she'd move on to the little Cheese Doodles that came along with it. Then the sunflower seeds and finally the rice Chex. They were her reward for eating all of her other Chex Mix bits even though she didn't like them as much. "So why did you want to come meet me?" She asked curiously, not certain why someone would drive from Boston to New York just for a day trip, and she certainly couldn't invite him to come stay with her at the shelter. That would be difficult, they were already operating at near maximum capacity, and it was only through very tiny adjustments that she'd made that they were able to keep enough food and blankets and such for everyone. The mission wasn't well funded, but being able to manipulate and replicate matter was very helpful from a supply line point of view.
 
Desmond hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to drop the bombshell that he was offering her a job right away, but he also didn't want to lie to Ris. "Well, I recently graduated MIT," he said, which was true, even though he didn't look it. Desmond had only recently turned twenty one, which was earlier than most people graduated, but he'd skipped two grades; once in elementary school and once in high school. "And I've got some time before my new job starts, so I figured that now might be the last time I'd actually have a good bit of freedom for a while and I wanted to do something... I don't know, just something. I've never been part of the spring break crowd, never been a big partier, so heading out to someone's beach house and getting wasted for a weekend didn't appeal to me. Then I remembered taking classes with you and thought that meeting you might be interesting."

He looked around for a moment for a chair that wasn't occupied and, spying one, turned to Ris once more. "Do you mind if I pull up a chair?" he asked. "I've been doing a lot of walking today and I'd like to sit down for a bit."
 
She shook her head and pointed to the chair he had noticed. "Go ahead." She said quietly, returning her attention to the last few pretzels. She finished them before she spoke again, looking up at him curiously. "I didn't know you had a new job starting. Congratulations then. If you're wanting to have a vacation, then you couldn't have chosen better than New York City. New York City's five boroughs are home to some of the worlds most recognizable, cherished landmarks and attractions. From Times Square and Central Park to the Empire State Building and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the island of Manhattan packs more legendary icons into one compact area than any other place on Earth, and that's to say nothing of the City's four other boroughs - the Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens and Staten Island - each of which contains its own roster of must-see destinations." It wasn't immediately obvious at which point she began simply quoting the Official New York City Travel Guide, but it was a word for word recitation of the opening paragraph.

She stopped abruptly and turned back to her computer screen, where she currently had seven different tabs open, each one with a different class. "One moment. New post in the differential geometry class. I need to respond." She was notorious as the first person to respond to any post between the hours of 8:15 am and 4:45 pm Monday through Friday, and many people simply waited to post simply to read her long, rambling responses. She had engaged (and won) several debates with the moderating instructors and some of them were truly legendary. However, today it was simply the posting of the newest homework and she copied it down faithfully into a large blue spiral notebook. "I'll work on that later tonight." She said to herself, before turning back to face Desmond. "Where do you want to go here in the city?"
 
Desmond shook his head as Ris started giving him a sales pitch of New York. He'd certainly taken that into account when he'd decided to come here, but he'd hoped that Ris might show him around when he got here. Now, though, he wasn't so sure that she would go for that, though he supposed it couldn't hurt to ask. "Well, honestly," he said, "I'd kind of hoped that you'd show me around. I'm not very good at being a tourist: I don't like going places on my own. I mean, a place is just a place to me if I don't have someone to go with. I know some people come to New York to see shows on Broadway or go clubbing, but I just feel awkward being in a place I don't know by myself."

He nodded as Ris went ahead and posted. Honestly, he'd enrolled in a few online classes simply because he'd heard that she was in them. After learning that she took a lot of online classes, he'd always left a spot open in his schedule until he figured out which classes she was in and used his spare spot to go into one that seemed like he could handle. He'd gotten in over his head a few times, but Ris was usually able to help him figure out the things he didn't understand. He'd hoped to grab lunch soon, but it seemed like Ris was the kind of person who'd want to adhere to her schedule.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't know you were taking a class; I didn't mean to interrupt. Like I said, I'm not really sure where I want to go in New York. To be honest, I really didn't think a whole lot of this trip through before I hopped in the car. I was thinking of grabbing lunch soon, if you'd like to join me. There was a pizza joint a little ways down the street that looked pretty good. Or we could go somewhere else, if that's more your liking. I'll buy."
 
She looked a little surprised at his words. He wanted her to show him around? "I...could do that if you wanted." She said slowly, as if trying out the words to make sure they sounded right. "Yes. I can show you places around here. They're very nice, and I go exploring on the weekends when the library is closed. I don't go to Manhattan very often; they try to keep the homeless people out so they don't like me around." She had been quite happy that Dr. Hyde had been in classes with her, and sometimes she even got to work with him on homework assignments and such. She'd liked it very much, and he'd been very nice about letting her teach him about things so she could make sure she understood them. He had always been a very patient partner, which suited Ris well. Still, she was a little nervous about being here in person with him. After all, she felt rather self conscious. She was clean and her clothes were neat, but she didn't look like the sort of person one would want to spend time with.

"It's alright. I like the math classes. They don't usually have lots of discussion so I don't miss much. I just turned in my last assignment to my other classes, so if you want to go get food we can do that." She said, looking a bit uncomfortable when he mentioned that he'd buy. She didn't have a lot of money but she had a bit, she could at least cover her own lunch. "I..I can pay for mine, really." She said quietly, picking at the rubber on the sole of her tennis shoe quietly, her hair hiding her face. "And...pizza sounds nice." She hadn't had pizza in a very long time. Her case worker at the shelter had always impressed upon her that she had to be very mindful not to spoil her dinner with junk food while she was out, which was why the Chex MIx was so much a favorite of hers. Would Ms. Nichols consider pizza to be spoiling her dinner? She wasn't sure. The strictly obeyed Ms. Nichols likely never realized that Ris had taken that to mean that she shouldn't eat anything except for the Chex Mix she kept with her between lunch and dinner, but the young woman resolved that if Desmond had made the whole drive down from Boston to see her then she could risk spoiling her dinner this once for pizza. "When do you want to go?"
 
"We could go now, if you like," said Desmond, smiling. "And don't worry about paying: my parents always told me that I should pay whenever I take a girl out to a meal, even if she's just a friend. It's force of habit for me now."

Desmond waited to see if Ris wanted to leave before moving. Things were looking up, really; he'd been worried when he'd seen her appearance, but she seemed just as intelligent and coherent as she did online. She was nervous, yes, but so was he. He was fairly certain that the only reason she didn't have a job was because of her appearance and the fact that she was a bit odd, which was unfortunate, because he was certain that she would dazzle everyone if she set foot into a lab. He didn't think she'd do too well as a teacher, but she was an excellent instructor and he was sure that she could easily coordinate a research team if she was given the chance.
 
Ris considered this a moment, glancing at the little plastic Strawberry Shortcake watch on her wrist (a gift from when she was a little girl that she just kept replicating when the old one wore out) then nodded a little. "Yes we could go now. And...I suppose if you're certain about paying for me, I will do my best to eat very inexpensively." She carefully packed up her things, shouldering her bag and standing up, unfolding her legs and stretching. She was surprisingly tall, though her slim build and thinness made her height seem less intimidating and more delicate. She smiled a little at him, though it was hesitant and a little bashful. "So, what do you like on your pizza?"

It was terribly outside of her routine. The routine was everything. Without the routine she didn't know what to do with herself. Breaks in her routine made her nervous but...well, Dr. Hyde - no, Desmond. She should call him his real name now, since she knew him in real life - had made the effort to come visit her, and she would be a very poor friend indeed if she didn't make the effort to at least go with him to lunch and spend time with him. Of course, she hadn't imagined that he would look like he did, rather more tall and dark and handsome than she'd expected him to be. In fact, he looked more like one of those very college guys on spring break that he had mentioned not being than he did looking like a serious student of science, which he actually was. Ohh...serious student of science. She liked that. She would have to write that down later...
 
"It's fine," he said. "I was planning on splitting a pizza with you: we'll get half what I want and half what you want. That way, we both get half a pizza."

Desmond stood, surprised at Ris's height and walked beside her out the door. She looked like a reed: tall and thin, almost sickly thin. He hoped that she'd accept the job: with the high paycheck she'd be getting, she'd probably fill out a bit and look healthier as a result. "I like peppers, onions and mushrooms on my pizza," he said. "Do you want to go to the pizza place down the street or is there some other pizza place you like better." Desmond blushed as soon as he asked the question. It was foolish of him, really: Ris was homeless, she'd said so herself, and here he was assuming that she ate out enough to have a preference for pizza places. Of course, this made him embarrassed that he might be making unfair assumptions about her because she was homeless, causing him to feel like a fool all around. He muttered something that was definitely apologetic, but completely incomprehensible, hoping that he hadn't offended her.
 
Ris followed him obediently out the door, blinking at him curiously as he asked her if there was any place she liked better, then seeming to get upset about asking her for some reason. It seemed a bit silly to her, what on earth did he think she'd need to be apologized to for asking about a place she might like better? "That place is fine. It smells good and lots of people come by with the boxes from there, so I guess it tastes good too." She replied serenely, obviously nowhere near as easily offended as he feared she was. Honestly, she was surprised that Desmond was so nervous and skittish. He seemed so relaxed and confident online. Then again, that was probably not really a fair judge of how he'd be in real life. It was more stressful to come all this way to meet someone and be in an unfamiliar place, so naturally stress would have an effect. She would just be nice to him, and eventually he'd come around.

It was a pretty day today, something she rarely experienced, given her time table and her preferred activities during the day. His assessment of her being like a reed, tall and sickly thin, weren't too far off of the money. Lots of people at the shelter had commented on it enviously, the fact that Ris seemed able to eat anything in any amount and stay skinny as a rail. Metabolism had apparently been kind to her, though she'd found it to be a silly thing to be envious of or to praise her for; it wasn't as if she had any input on it herself. However, when she'd said as much she just got indulgent smiles and laughs and pats on the head, so she'd eventually stopped bothering. Everyone at the shelter regarded her as being very sweet and rather slow, with a multitude of funny habits. She supposed most of that was true, but she didn't see any need to correct them on the little inconsistencies. People seemed to like feeling like they were smarter than her and they were nice to her when they thought that she was dumb so why not just go with it? Seemed the easiest way to get along.

Of course, with Desmond it had always been different. She liked being smart for him, liked to know things and work difficult things out. In fact, the entire experience of the online classes had been wonderful. She was celebrated for figuring things out and teachers had expressed interest in her. It was a pleasant change of pace to be fussed over because of what she knew, not what she didn't. And she felt she could be more open with Desmond. After all, they had lots of the same interests and he seemed to be happy being her friend. That had been before he'd gotten here though and inwardly she hoped that he wasn't regretting his trip down by now.
 
Desmond relaxed considerably when he realized that Ris wasn't mad at him for making assumptions about her. Honestly, it had been an innocent question and the only reason he'd felt guilty about it was because he'd overthought things. He resolved to just go with his instincts from now on, rather than trying to figure out what might make him look stupid. If he looked like a fool, he looked like a fool, and honestly, Ris had made him feel rather foolish during some of the online classes. She was much smarter than he was, and Desmond was pretty smart. Honestly, it was a nice change of pace to be the one who didn't know everything in a conversation.

Desmond lead Ris into the pizza parlor, ignoring all of the looks he got for being in Ris's company. Unconsciously, he offered Ris his hand in case she wanted to take it. There were a lot of eyes on them and he didn't want Ris to feel like he was going to abandon her. "So," he said, ignoring the gazes cast in their direction, "I know what I want on my half of the pizza, but what do you want on yours?"
 
She hated being stared at. It wasn't so bad when it was the quick 'ohh, who's that, is that someone I know' sort of look where a person searched her face for some sort of recognition. She didn't mind that; in fact, sometimes she rather hoped that someone would come running up to her and call her name, exclaiming that they'd been looking everywhere for her and how was she doing and things like that, same as she saw lots of people do to other people on the street and in the subway and things like that. But the staring that seemed to ask what she was doing there, did she belong, the way that people gripped their purses a little tighter and mothers pulled their children a little closer, as if homeless meant crazy child molester or mugger or something used to make her scared and angry. Now it just made her sad. She could see it on their faces as they stepped into the pizza parlor, and it was only after a small moment of hesitation that she placed her hand into Desmond's, letting him lead her to a table.

He asked her what she wanted on her half of the pizza and she frowned, considering this a moment. It had been years since she'd had pizza... "Umm...hamburger? And cheese. Lots of cheese. And pickles. I like pickles. And macaroni. And barbecue chicken." It probably wasn't the best thing that the last time she'd had pizza it had been in a little buffet place that had all sorts of strange conglomerations like taco pizza and buffalo chicken pizza and such. Still, she remembered from that day the sort of things she'd liked, and well, if they could come on a pizza, so much the better, right?
 
An amused smile crossed Desmond's lips as he heard what Ris wanted on her pizza. It was the kind of smile that showed he was laughing with her, not at her. Ris was a little weird, but so far it only seemed to be in the good way. "I'll see what I can do," he said. "I'll go place our order: I'm pretty sure that they'll have most of that. I'll be right back. Unless you want to come with me?"

Desmond could easily see why Ris wouldn't want to be left at a table by herself in the parlor, so he figured it would be polite to ask if she wanted to stay near him. Once he had his answer, he headed up to the register and placed their order with a completely straight face. The cashier was reasonable enough when he asked for a half with mushrooms, peppers and onions, but gave him a strange look when he placed the order for Ris's half. After a brief check with the kitchen, the cashier said that they'd be able to add everything except pickles, which they didn't have. Desmond thanked him and bought two cups for the soda fountain and headed back to the table, handing one cup to Ris.

"They had everything but the pickles," he said. "I hope that's okay. I didn't know what you'd want to drink, so I just got you an empty cup for the machine. Our pizza should be out in about fifteen minutes."
 
Ris shook her head, not wanting to go walking through the restaurant again and risk the stares. She didn't like being alone in the strange restaurant, but having to walk back up there and back again and feel the eyes watching her was just that much more awful. She could stand being alone for a few minutes, but she hated being stared at more than anything. Huddled up in the booth, she pressed herself against the wall, curling up into a little protective ball with her arms looped around her legs and her chin resting on her knees. She wasn't sure why she hadn't just asked Desmond if they could pick up the pizza and maybe go eat somewhere like the park or something. It would have been nice, and she liked feeding the pidgeons in the park. Everyone else seemed to dislike the pidgeons, but she always thought they were beautiful in a way. And they were always together, always as a group. She envied that about them.

When he came back with the cup and let her know that they'd had all but her pickles on the pizza, she smiled a little and took the cup he offered. "That's fine. Thank you very much, Desmond. What selection of beverages do they have here?" She hoped they had fruit punch, she wasn't a very big fan of carbonation; it made her hiccup something fierce. Still, it was nice to just be out someplace with someone else who actually seemed interested in talking to her, and she was very fond of Desmond anyway. He was quite nice, and he smiled a lot, which she was fairly certain was a good sign.
 
Desmond craned his neck and squinted at the soda machine, trying to read it from where he sat. If Ris looked closely, she'd notice a subtle shift in the shape of his eyes, small enough that it was hardly even noticeable except for when the change actually occurred. "Looks like they've got fruit punch and lemonade if you don't want something bubbly," he said. "Although I think I'm going to get some root beer myself."

He'd noticed how Ris had shrank away while he was ordering, so he'd asked for the pizza to go. He figured there was no use in making the girl any more uncomfortable than she already was. It would also give her a chance to show him around the area; he hoped that putting her in charge and letting her show off a bit would help her calm down. And he wanted her calm when he asked her if she was interested in the job, otherwise he was afraid that she might run away.

"I ordered the pizza to go," he said, the subtle shift in his eyes reversing as he looked away from the machine, "so if you want to make use of the unlimited refills, I'd say now is the time."
 
She smiled a little as he mentioned they had fruit punch; pizza and her favorite drink and actually having someone to hang out with and talk to was making this day shape up into quite a happy surprise. "Root beer is good. But the bubbles are just too much." She said, shaking her head sadly, slowly unfolding her legs and making her way to the soda fountain. It was a bit strange to watch her move, how she hugged the outside corner of the room, taking a very round about, circuitous route to the machine, avoiding the slightest contact with anyone and keeping her eyes fixed firmly on her feet as she walked. It wasn't that difficult to do, walking while staring at the ground, and it was something that she'd perfected over the years.

There were all sorts of places they could go. The Bronx Park was pretty, and they had a zoo. And lots of pigeons. She considered this as she brought her drink back to the table carefully, putting down a napkin, sprinkling salt on the napkin and placing her drink on it very precisely before putting her straw in and beginning to drink. "Thank you for lunch, Desmond. The park isn't far away and they have a zoo." She said, very matter of factly. "They have a butterfly garden and it's very pretty. And they feed the baby penguins every day at 3 o'clock. I have a one year pass. Ms. Nichols got it for me." She said proudly, smiling a little. "I'll get you a pass too, and we can see them feed the baby penguins! You can't touch them though, they don't like when you try to do that."
 
"Well," said Desmond, chuckling, "I used to get the hiccups pretty bad whenever I drank Pepsi. It was so bad that I swore off sodas until I went to high school. I pretty much got hooked on root beer there and I've been drinking it since."

He was able to suppress a laugh as he watched Ris move across the room, but only barely. He stood up and walked slowly along with her, not performing the awkward shuffle she did, but simply walking slowly next to her until they were at the soda machine. He filled his cup with root beer and offered Ris his hand as they walked back to the table. He took several long sips from his cup as he listened to Ris talk about the Bronx zoo. "You know," he said, "that reminds me of the Franklin Park Zoo back in Boston. It's been forever since I've gone. I don't think they have penguins, though: you need to go to the aquarium if you want to see those. I'd be glad to see the baby penguins, though. I think we can make it just in time to see them getting fed. And I'll pay for my own ticket, but it'd be great if you show me how to get it; every place always has a different system."

He took another sip of his root beer, wondering whether or not he should ask about Ms. Nichols. He didn't want to pry, but he was curious and this Ms. Nichols might be someone he needed to talk to if he wanted to hire Ris. So, hoping it wasn't the wrong decision, he spoke up. "Who's Ms. Nichols?" he asked, keeping his tone conversational and even.
 
She was a little hesitant to take his hand when he offered it, but he smiled at her and seemed so nice she didn't want to turn him down, even though normally she was a little afraid of touching people. Especially considering how badly it could go if she was startled or frightened. Still, she had to admit as she sipped her fruit punch quietly and listened to him talk about the zoo in Boston which didn't have any penguins (making it a far inferior zoo in her opinion but that would be terribly impolite to say) and smiled a little as he mentioned that they could make it in time to see the penguins getting fed. Then he asked about Ms. Nichols, and she didn't really see any purpose in not telling him about the woman.

"She's my caseworker through the state. When I was released on my eighteenth birthday, they assigned Ms. Nichols to keep up with me. She helped me get into the shelter, which was very nice of her, helped me apply for assistance for things like food and subsidized housing, medical care and things like that. She makes sure I get to my doctor's appointments and things like that; I see her once a week and she's always nice, always brings me things. Last week, she gave me a turtle! His name is Franco and he's really little, and lives in an aquarium at Ms. Nichols' office. she said that when I can get into one of the subsidized apartments, she'll help me set up my aquarium for him." She smiled a little and looked down at the table, her finger tracing idle patterns on the wood laminate. "She got me a tee shirt from the Statue of Liberty, and these really pretty barrettes with sparkly butterflies on springs, so they look like they're fluttering. And she took me to a baseball game once, and got me a hot dog. She's a very nice lady, you'd like her."

Ms. Nichols had been more of a motherly figure to her than anything else since she'd gotten out. She wasn't sure what her file from the Facility had said, but whatever it was, it had made the older social worker be much nicer to her than she'd expected after how things had been in the Facility. To be honest, Ris didn't think she had it all that bad. Granted, she'd have liked to have her own bed and maybe even her own bedroom, and she'd very much like to have a job or school or just a place to go during the day rather than haunting the library and wandering around the park and museums on the weekends, but there were lots of people who had it much worse, she reminded herself. And now she had Desmond to talk to, though he'd be going back to Boston at the end of the day, she supposed. Still, even so she had a lot to be grateful for.
 
Desmond smiled as Ris described Ms. Nichols. Honestly, he knew that he was doing a good thing in offering Ris the job, but it would require her to come to Boston with him and he didn't know how she'd feel being separated from the woman who she held so dear. Of course, he'd do his best to help the two stay in touch: he'd be more than glad to set Ris up with Skype so that she could keep in contact with Ms. Nichols, and of course he'd let her bring the turtle along, but he was worried that she might reject him on the basis that she didn't want to put so much distance between herself and Ms. Nichols. He decided to wait to spring the job offer on her; perhaps when they were watching the penguins get fed. Of course, he'd have to talk to Ms. Nichols about getting Ris the job, so he could talk to her about staying in contact with the girl.

"She sounds like a lovely woman," he said, smiling. "You're lucky to have her in your life." He hesitated, curious about where she'd been released from on her eighteenth birthday, but unsure if he should ask her about it. It didn't seem to be the kind of thing one brought up in polite conversation. "Is there anything you'd like to know about me?" he asked. "I've been sitting here asking all sorts of questions about you and I kind of forgot that you might want to know about me."
 
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