Long Time, No See {Tyler}

[PICKLE ABREY]

She was doing this out of guilt. Okay, not really. Mostly because she wanted to see Tyler, but guilt played a big part in it. It was that one day she had met Christian. That one day, turned into days. More than she could count. Days of learning, of watching, of blossoming like a butterfly. Some things were still Pickle, of course. Her accent was cleaner--but she only did that around Christian. When out of his presence, she had that wonderful canter that was only known around Louisiana and lower Mississippi. But she had become someone new, of sorts.

Manicured, polished, fresh. Something new--unlike Kennedy and previous friends that tried to turn an awkward girl into something else--Christian helped bring the Pickle that was deep down all the way to the surface. She wasn't someone else--she was still her. Just in a better wrapped package. Slowly, she was beginning to settle into it, and get used to it. Even today--she had dressed herself without thinking too hard on it, and she had fled the dorm in pumps without falling on her face. It was becoming easier for her, and most of it was gentle encouragement. Christian reassured her, told her what worked, what didn't. Assured her that yes, she did look good. She looked beautiful, in fact.

But because of the time with her new friend, her mentor--she had all but dropped off the face of the planet when it came to her old friends. And thus, she felt terrible. Especially when it came to the matter of Tyler and Addison. Addison was forgiving, as she was sure Tyler was. However, her tongue became tied when she attempted to call Tyler and explain, and quickly hung up before the phone even rang once. So, instead. The entire morning she spent in the kitchen of her dorm, cooking, baking.

Today, she would surprise him at work. A lunch break, perfectly on time, with a perfectly made lunch. Of course, some things in Pickle's mind remained the same. She saw this as perfectly sweet, perfectly innocent. When she climbed into the cab with the frog lunchbox in her hand, trying to think of what she would say to Tyler--the comment the cab driver sent about her son forgetting his lunch flew over her head. Pickle had no idea that she looked older, cleaner. Not like an awkward middle school girl. The outsides didn't match the insides just yet, it was the insides lagging behind.

Even when she went into the JC Penny's and asked for Tyler, she missed the batting eyelashes of the older woman, and the snicker of the boy in the back. She was directed towards the info center, where she was told Tyler would meet her at. Slowly, she dipped through the store, and towards the information center. A few privte offices, a couple of tables, and a break room at the end of the hall. Slowly, she slid into a seat at the table, and rubbed the back of her neck, bared by the messy bun at the back of her head. Pickle wanted to glance up, to look for Tyler. But she found herself anxiously staring at the lunchbox, her heart racing in her chest. And each second that ticked by--this seemed more, and more like a silly idea.

OUTFIT

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler had just about had enough of his lousy job today.

First, this guy Casey thought it would be funny to delay Tyler by locking him in the supply closet, so he couldn't clock in on time. Then, an elderly woman asked him for assistance, to which he happily obliged, only to discover that she was quite deaf and rather blind, as she began to call him "Dolores." In an attempt to communicate with her, his voice had been raised to such a level that his supervisor had swooped in like a vulture. No sooner had the old woman left the store than Tyler's superior had pulled him to the side to yell at him - in front of the other workers and a few customers.

If Tyler had been a less passive man, he would have quit on the spot and walked out. He chose, instead, to hang his head, cheeks burning, and apologize to his coworkers for both setting a bad example and reflecting their store in a negative light.

The rest of the day hadn't gone much better.

So it rose a lot of suspicion when Jasmine had nudged him and told him that a pretty girl was waiting for him to come to lunch. Surely it was a big joke that Casey or Tommy had set up to further humiliate him. Resigned, Tyler's shoulder's slumped as he headed towards the break room. Upon entering, he was quite shocked to find a girl waiting there, just like Jasmine had said.

Her soft blonde hair was up in a messy bun and she wore comfortable but nice jeans and a loose sweater. On her feel were very tall high heels and in her hands she clutched a little frog lunchbox.

Tyler's eyebrow raised before he studied her face and a surprised smile lit his grey eyes.

"Pickle! Wow, what are you doing here?"

He glanced her over a few more times, then his face flushed as he realized that it wasn't very polite of him.

"Uh, you look really good. I barely recognized you. N-not that you didn't look good before!" He hastened to correct himself, "Just that you look different. Um.. I mean.."

Tyler glanced at Pickle, an apologetic grin on his lips, his voice small.

"Sorry. I'm really bad at.. well, being a normal human being. Let's try this again. Hi, Pickle! Wow, you look really nice today."


Outfit

[PICKLE ABREY]

Tyler’s voice caused her to start—a little jump in her seat before her head shot up. Though her package was nicer, her large eyes had that startled, dear-in-the-headlights looked as she stared up at Tyler. Partially because she didn’t know what to say. Partially because she had never seen Tyler dressed to the nines. Slack, tucked in shirt. Tie. It made her feel less out of place as she straightened up in her seat. “Thanks!” She chirped, before lowering her eyes a bit.

“I’ve been kinda busy lately, so I haven’t been hanging out with my friends, and I felt kinda bad—so I thought a peace offering?” Her shoulders raised up while she glanced at the lunchbox sitting on the table. Her hand rubbed at the back of her neck again. “You look pretty sharp too. The tie’s a good look.” She teased, though the innocent sparkle of humor stayed in her eyes.

It faded quickly before she glanced around. “I didn’t miss your lunch break, did I? I can always come back later. Or like. Tomorrow.” Or like, never, she thought to herself. “It’s uh---seafood gumbo on top of rice pilaf.” Her finger poked at the lunchbox. What do you say to someone that you basically bailed on? She’d have to talk to Christian about that, about how to handle it. He taught her etiquette and how to clean up. But how to handle situations when it involved friends? Lost on her.

She moved her hand from the back of her neck and into her lap as she looked back up. “Is it bad that I kind of expected you to be working at a little farmer’s market?” An apologetic smile took over her face. “I was kinda surprised when Addison told me this is where you worked. Guess the city’s finally gotten to you?” She teased again, though she seemed to be a little more relaxed. Tyler definitely looked like the sort that would have been more at home in jeans and a t-shirt, selling fresh produce. Wooing the ladies as he sold them different organic fruits, plucked fresh from the orchid. That looked more like Tyler.

Granted, the professional look did suit him well. Quite well, actually. But there was a little part of her that somehow found mud-stained boots, a hat and a tan much more attractive than the plain, pressed clean look of a business man. Though, retail hardly was businessman-esque. God—furrowing her brows. She was even starting to think like Christian. Work was respectable, no matter what it was. Taking a deep breath, Pickle sighed. She could handle strangers with grace, now. But it seems to have done a 180 when it came to her friends. It didn’t help that Tyler made something flutter in her stomach.

OUTFIT

[TYLER CARTER]

Pickle looked almost surprised to see him. She explained about how she hadn't spent a lot of time with them, but Tyler waved it off. Sure, he had missed her, but if she was busy that wasn't her fault. Hell, people forgot about him all the time, even when they weren't busy. He was used to being overlooked. Of course, the fact that she had come to apologize, even when Tyler was so easily forgotten made the gesture all the more sweet.

Pickle teased lightly and his face turned a bit red. He avoided her eyes, reaching up to loosen his tie. He had never taken compliments well, and getting them from a well-dressed, lovely Pickle made him all sorts of giddy and simultaneously nervous. What a rather odd combination.

Pickle began to ramble in a way that made her seem a little uncomfortable as well and he sat down by her, a tiny grin on his face.

"Actually, it seems you were right on time."

Ooooh, she had made food? He glanced at the lunchbox, thinking of how that was just like Pickle. She was quite the talented baker, so he had no doubt in her cooking abilities.

"Sounds a lot better than the Snickers bar I was going to have," he chuckled, "And nah. It's not bad at all. I'd much rather be working somewhere like that. This retail thing is so foreign to me. And I hate this monkey suit."

He glanced at her, watching the somewhat tense-looking Pickle loosen up. She was definitely different. Something was changing in the way the she held herself. More confident, more adult-like. Well, whatever was changing with his little friend, Tyler liked her just the same. She was one of the few friends that he could feel very connected to. Pickle was made fun of on campus, and kids were brutal. He would never let it happen if he was there. He knew how it felt to be teased and pushed around. But maybe this new Pickle would surprise everyone. Maybe they would let up on the jokes and whispers. And if they didn't, Tyler would tan their hides.

He took his snickers bar out of his pocket and put it on the table, then opened up the lunchbox curiously. Tyler had never had any of this before. He was definitely up for trying new things though, especially things Pickle had made.

Tyler smiled warmly at her, gesturing for her to join in the feast she had made.

"I've missed you. I'm really glad you came. It was a nice surprise."

[PICKLE ABREY]

"I hope you like it hot--I toned down on the spice. But if it's still too spicy, I can run tot he food court and grab something else." And then there was the brilliant Pickle smile she often gave to so many. The very last of the tension eased out of her as Tyler took a seat next to her. Retail wasn't quite as lost on her--her family went to Walmart and some of the malls. More often than not, they tended to get most of their things in the French Quarter. Smaller, less mechanical. "But you're a fast learner, I'm sure you'll have the little old ladies swooning soon." She teased, pulling out the second container from the lunchbox as she peeled back the lid.

"I missed you too, it feels like it's been forever since I've seen you." She had a little difficulty looking up at Tyler at this point--her smile fading for a while as she unwrapped a plastic fork and mixed the gumbo with the rice. Pickle could feel the guilt bubbling in her stomach. Tyler was a sweetheart, a good old boy that came so rare. A southern gentleman. He had always been nice to her, a mean word never coming out of his mouth. And she had dropped him like a soggy news paper.

Pickle scrunched her lips to the side, flattening a piece of potato into the rice. Her eyes slid over to the candy bar he laid on the table before a tiny smile came back to her lips. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, before gesturing at it. "I'm a building away, and you're gonna cheat on my sweets with that?" She grinned, and raised her brows at the candy. Leaning forward for just a moment, she gestured at Tyler with her fork, "Tell you what. Stop by after work, and I'll make sure you have lunch to take with you the next day." Again--Pickle saw absolutely nothing wrong with that.

She always baked too much--she had become more accusomed to cooking just for herself. It wouldn't be too difficult to make a container for Tyler to take to work--after all. There was no sense in him eating a candy-bar. Not if he had to work the nightmare of retail.

"Other than work, what's been up?" She asked, uncrossing her legs into a more comfortable position as she shoved a forkfull of food into her mouth to prevent herself from nervous yammering. That--or breaking out in guilt-wracked sobs. Pickle finally managed to bring her eyes up to Tyler, and she almost wanted to laugh. He looked good all gussied up, but it was still funny. Out of the norm. She could only imagine how she looked to him; probably just as silly. There was something about Tyler that made Pickle want to go running barefoot into the grass, and get long weeds tangled in her hair. The city didn't suit them; him a country boy, and her--from a place that seemed to remain untouched by time.

OUTFIT

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler grinned back at Pickle as he took a bite of her food.

Oh God.

He closed his eyes, swept up in the blissful deliciousness. It was glorious.

"No, seriously, this is awesome. You are magnificent."

Pickle continued to tease a bit, and Tyler's cheeks became a brilliant shade of magenta.

"Yeahhh, I don't think so."

He felt like he had gone without food for weeks by the way he wanted to shovel all the food into his mouth. Tyler had never tried this before, and the heat was strange to him, but it reminded him of home. This memory slowed him down and he let his mind wander a bit, nostalgic. It had been so long since he had had a proper, home-cooked meal. It made him miss his mom and dad. Ellie and Brynn. His uncle's farm. Being able to take his old beat up truck out onto a dirt road and park somewhere he couldn't hear anything but birds and leaves and water. He sighed, his eyes betraying just the tiniest hint of homesickness.

Tyler hoped Pickle didn't feel too bad about being busy. Life could get hectic sometimes. He totally understood. Last time his mom had called, she had told him that Ellie didn't want to talk. He had gotten lots of letters and pictures from her, but he hadn't found the time to write back. It made his insides pinch up with guilt. The feeling wasn't a pleasant one and Tyler would never want Pickle to feel that way.

There was something about the way that Pickle talked and the way that the corners of her mouth curled up into certain smiles that made Tyler feel warm. He stamped back the blush that was threatening to appear and gave her a shy smile.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be any trouble..."

He knew that she loved to bake, and she loved to share - seriously, Pickle must have been a hit in preschool - but he didn't want her to go out of her way for him, especially when she had been busy lately.

He leaned back in his chair a bit, running his hand through his short hair. Tyler thought for a moment before taking another bite of Pickle's delicious dish. He had to remind himself to swallow before answering, but it was hard to stop eating. It was just so good!

"Mostly work and school. Haven't had a lot of time for much else. I've been meaning to send letters to my sisters, but I still haven't gotten to it. Oh, and the Marine Corps recruiter I had talked to got me my Department of Defense Form, which is basically how I enlist. So I'm getting that filled out and when I'm done I'll just need to wait around until they send me to boot camp."

[PICKLE ABREY]

"It's really no trouble! I promise." Pickle reassured with a grin. The air was feeling lighter, and she wasn't feeling quite so sick anymore. It was a relief, to be completely honest. Though they were different sort of country folk, there was a kinship that Pickle felt was rare within the walls of the Academy. Chewing her meal carefully, she tilted her head, resting her cheek on the back of her hand as she watched Tyler lean back and talk.

She chewed even slower--the words slowly beginning to sink in. "Whoh--" Pickle's hand clamped over her mouth, forgetting she still had food in it before attempting to swallow it all at once. Which of course, caused her to choke. She twisted to the side, covering her mouth as her heels slammed on the ground, bracing herself as she coughed, clearing her throat. "You said what now?!" She cringed with the volume of her voice before glancing around to make sure no security guard came storming at her to haul her off.

Those behemoth sized eyes rounded on Tyler again, her gaze darting over his face for an outbreak of laughter, a sign of a joke. Her stomach tightened into a knot, and her heart began to sink with her stomach down to her knees. Marine Corps? The toughest of the tough? He wasn't even out of high school yet, and he was about to dedicate his life to the army, where he may even be killed. Senarios began to run through her head that made her heart slam into her chest. Marines were the steady rocks of the militia, Tyler would be suited to it. But...in Pickle's heart, she felt that the military stripped someone of their complete identity. Make them into another stamped out clone, ready to put their life on the line. She appreciated those who fought for the country; she stood during every pledge, and every song.

But...Tyler? "W-why?" Pull yourself together, Pickle. She reminded herself. Trying to kickstart her lungs into breathing again. She wasn't his mother, or his sister, or even his girlfriend--there was nothing she could do to stop him if that was what he wanted. However, it seemed wrong. It seemed wrong for sweet, charming Tyler to go into the Marines right after school, before he even had a chance to enjoy being young. What on earth had this boy been smoking?

OUTFIT

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler grinned when she blew off his worries. She was going to make him the most wonderful feast, and he was going to have to find a way to repay her. Pickle was such a fantastic friend and she deserved for someone to treat her as well as she treated them.

But suddenly, plans of repaying her wer in the back of his mind.

Tyler sat forward as Pickle choked, eyes wide in alarm. Before he could remember how to help a choking person, however, she had recovered. But the face he saw now scared him more than the possibility of her suffocation.

Pickle's blue eyes were round and terrified. She looked as if his own life had flashed before her eyes, and she didn't like how quickly the show had ended. The poor girl looked as if she was about to cry. Tyler's brows knitted and he leaned forward, pushing the food aside to put his elbows on the table.

"Oh, Pickle.. I didn't-"

He hadn't told any of his friends about enlisting, except Silas. And his dad had to know, obviously. But even his mother had been given very little information about how interested he was in pursuing a military career. It wasn't that he wouldn't ever tell them. Come on, they'd find out eventually. But he didn't like this reaction. The thought of going into combat scared people. And when you heard that a friend was going, it was a real possibility that you wouldn't see them again.

His gaze at Pickle now was very strong and almost stern. He seemed about twenty years older as he spoke, his voice gentle but firm.

"I don't want to make you upset. I'm sorry. I should have thought of a gentler way to tell you. But I really want this, Pickle. I really want to serve America this way. And I'm real excited about it. The part that I'm enlisting in right now is the Delayed Enlistment Program. I'm not going anywhere just yet, and they're not about to send a bunch of kids who haven't been to basic training to the front lines." Tyler's eyes softened dramatically. "I'll be okay. I promise. Don't worry, please. I'm really sorry.. We were having fun and I just.."

He had ruined it. The lovely time he had been spending with Pickle was now tainted with her shock of his confession.

[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle was trying to remember how to breathe as she stared at him, her eyes locked onto h is hanging on every single word. Words bubbled up inside of her, held only by the dam of her lips pressing tightly together. She put her hand up to stop him for a moment, before she closed her eyes trying to find her words. "You aren't even out of school yet." She started slowly. Calm, remain calm. Angry Pickles were sour Pickles.

"I mean, if that's what you want to do, I can't really stop you." She settled back into her chair, and pressed her hands together, sandwiching them between her knees. "The army is...it's a good choice. It's a guarenteed job, you don't have to have years and years and years of schooling under your belt." She was almost starting to mumble--the twang in her voice that had nearly been lost rang clear in every single word she said. Nerves bringing out the Louisiana in the girl. "But you're...you have to be eighteen at least to enlist. But still--Tyler?" She finally raised her head, blinking those large eyes. She wasn't going to cry. Just because he was going to the military, didn't mean he was going to die. However, the Marines was just a small part of it. The strongest, the leaders. When someone would have to go to the frontlines, they would send the Marines.

"Do you understand the severity of what you're doing?" Her brows furrowed together as she stared at him. "You haven't even had a chance to live yet, and you're already signing your life away? I mean, I can understand going into the army after like...ten years. Having your fun, enjoying it, experiencing some life--then going. Where you won't have to serve long--but now? Do you understand how long you'll be sent away? You won't have a life other than guns and..." Pickle tipped forward, and put her forehead in her hands.

Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe...she was freaking out a little more than she should be. But it didn't seem right. Tyler was a teenager--and though she was younger, he was still a kid. She was still a kid. Everyone at that school was. Kids had no place in the army, not in these times. "I think you're crazy." She murmured, keeping her eyes on the table, before reaching up to undo the knot of hair at the base of her neck. Her blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders, falling against her cheeks in a warm security blanket as she put another forkfull of food into her mouth. However, she couldn't taste it. And it had the texture of sand, suddenly. If anything, it was to try and calm her from freaking out, or bursting into tears.

He was her friend, but...what was the sense in getting too close now? Now that he would be sent off to bootcamp for months on end, only to be shipped out again within a moment's notice?

OUTFIT

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler watched as Pickle contained herself and his anxiety skyrocketed. Was this something she was closely connected to, or was she perhaps anti-military? He usually thought more of others before speaking, but this time it had just come right out and he regretted it.

Well, it was something that he had thought long and hard about. His family was patriotic. All four of his great-grandfathers had left their wife and children to fight in World War II. Only two of them had come back. Both of his grandfathers had served during the Korean War. And his Uncle Tim and Uncle Ray had gone to Vietnam. They both made it back, but both were physically and emotionally scarred from the time spent there. And then there was his cousin Lindsay, who had joined not long ago and came home from Iraq without a leg.

He was well aware of the risks, and he was willing to take those risks. But Pickle's reaction stumped him. If this was how everyone was going to react, well.. it would be much harder on him than he had imagined. He hated making people worry. And the fact of the matter was, as soon as he signed that contract, he was commited to the military for eight years. If the country fell into war again, that time could be extended without his consent. Would he really be able to look at the faces of the people he loved and tell them time and time again that he had to leave? He imagined himself in his uniform, trying to explain himself to a four year old boy with his eyes, why he had to go away after spending so little time together.

Tyler looked at Pickle, his stormy blue eyes now sad. She looked stressed out as she took her hair down and even then he couldn't help but think of how pretty she looked. His heart sank at her words and he looked down at the table dejectedly. When he spoke, his voice was low and soft, very timid.

"I.. I haven't signed the papers yet. Maybe I'll bring them home before I do. Talk to my parents and see what they say about it. Evaluate all the options.."

This was something he wanted, but Pickle had brought up something in him that he had never thought of before. He really hadn't experienced life yet. Was he really ready to take this step?

[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle lifted her eyes to look up at Tyler's face. She straightened up, and turned her head, staring at him with those round eyes. Imagining him in Marine garb. Yes--it would look good on him. But perhaps an older him. He had a boyish, gentle face. It shouldn't get hardened by war and death and...Pickle sighed and shoved another fork of rice and meat into her mouth, looking past Tyler for a minute. She was his friend--she really had no say in the matter. When she looked back--his eyes looked sad, and it sent a jolt into her heart. She swallowed hard, and put down the fork and the container.

Standing up awkwardly, her fingers curled around the edge of her chair and she dragged it in closer to Tyler so their knees touched. Reaching out, she grasped his hands tightly in hers. Dispite how thin Pickle was, and how skinny her fingers were--there was a gentle strength in her grip. She pressed her lips together in a thin line, and raised a single brow at Tyler as she angled her head to look him directly in the face. "If it's something you want to do, then no one should stop you from going after your dreams. No one. But you are incredibly loved, Tyler. If something happened to you, I--we would be devastated. One man can change everything, for better or for worse. Everything has good weights and bad. But if something happens to you," She took a deep breath, her fingers tightening their grip for just a moment before her eyes hardened, "I won't ever forgive you." She finished sternly, narrowing her eyes at him.

For a moment, she remained like that--ignoring the curiousity of how her hands felt safe grasping his. Trying to ignore the curiousity of what it would feel like to have his fingers fill the space of hers--and before she could act on that curiousity, she withdrew her hands and scooted her chair back a little. As soon as she had torn her gaze away from Tyler, her face had softened, and she looked almost sad. For just a split second, though. She smiled up at him, and gave her food a little stir, before picking up the necklace hanging from her neck, where a tiny little watch hung. "How long do you have before you have to go back to work?" She asked curiously. She needed to change the subject, and fast.

Unfortunately, dreadful senarios ran through Pickle's head. Morbid, sad ones. She didn't want to let those register in her mind, and she certainly didn't want Tyler's face to show up in any of those. So she had to change the subject--otherwise this moment would be regretted. She didn't want to regret coming to see a friend--no way. With a sneaky smile crossing over her lips, she glances around the area slyly. "Any interbusiness relations? Has a lil' lady caught your eye? I could totally put in a good word for you. I'm the best wingman, you know."

OUTFIT

[TYLER CARTER]

For a while, Pickle looked at him. He looked back at her, a little sad and confused. Here there was something that he believe he would excell at, something that would give him purpose and drive in life, and Pickle had brought him back to earth, with the realization that not everyone would want him going.

She suddenly got up and scooted her chair closer to him. Her knees rested against his and instead of feeling uncomfortable, Tyler felt a little nervous and strangely warm, comfortable and a bit excited. But Pickle's face was serious and she took his hands. He had a nearly uncontrolable urge to keep her there, with her hands in his, forever.

She began to speak and Tyler's heart sank. She had almost said that she would be devastated. Was that merely a slip of the tongue, or did she want him to realize that she cared about him so significantly that he should know how hurt she would be? Her light eyes were like flint and he nodded. Just as he was about to intertwine his fingers with hers, she scooted away. Ignoring the feeling of disappointment, he checked his watch for the time.

"About 7 minutes. Give or take a couple."

He was relieved to see her smile again and although he was grateful for the change in subject, he wasn't very grateful for the chosen subject. He rolled his eyes goodnaturedly and gave her a wry smile.

"Naw, I'm not interested in any of the girls here."

A one of his coworkers passing by gave an indignant "hmph!" and as soon as they were gone, Tyler laughed.

"Oops.." He shrugged at Pickle, "You know as well as anyone that I'm not good with women. So even though you may be the wizard of matchmaking, it's probably not going to help me. I'm afraid I'm a lost cause."

Unless a certain blonde wanted to try her hand at it. Then maybe he'd pull it together just enough to make it work.

{I feel like it's really short. SORRY}

[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle's brows lifted when the coworker huffed away, and she had to quell a tiny little snort that had been threatening to escape. Pickle watched her walk away, containing the sounds, before her laugher joined in with Tyler's. Seven minutes seemed to short, but it wouldn't be very responsible to grab his hand and sneak him out. Plus---where the hell would they even go?

She gestured to the direction the coworker had walked, "Oh, no. I think you have potential. That was...that was really charming." Again she tried to contain the laughter, nodding her head--before another burst of giggles managed to fall from her lips. "So, what do you want for lunch tomorrow?" She asked, the leftover smile of humor still on her lips while she attempted to finish off her lunch.

It would be a lie to say that Pickle wasn't disappointed. In he rmind, that was a guy's way of saying 'no thank you', and so she couldn't even tease him about the idea of the two of them. The butterflies in her stomach had all dropped dead--but luckily Pickle was a master of disguise. And the disappointment didn't show on her face. Pickle could take rejection well (not), and wasn't particularly bothered by it (liar).

"Understandable. The pickins here at Penny's are slim. Unless you like the smell of moth balls." One brow raised up, feeding another fork of lunch into her food. Her large eyes glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Minutes seemed to be precious, and going way too fast. Closing her container, and wrapping her fork in a napkin, she reached into her bag to pop a breath mint into her mouth. She wasn't going to spend the last few minutes with Tyler for a while, on stuffing her face. She would enjoy his company, because even though it was silly--she felt like time was running out. Like she might never see him agan after this.

OUTFIT