those are /my/ cardboard fries mme.

[MICHEAL "MIKEY" COLBERT]

Tristan really had no idea what he was doing here. He really wasn't sure how he even got past the bouncer. He did find out one thing though, there's an age limit on drinking in this country. An age limit! Really? He sees all his friends drinking at parties and they're younger than him! It didn't make sense. So when he had a cup of disgusting beer at that rat party freshman year it was illegal? Tristan suddenly felt really guilty. He wasn't in jail right now so it couldn't be enforced very well.

Montreal, come to think of it, probably had a drinking age limit too. He'd never gone to a bar until last year and the let him drink. All the years before that he had fine wine at his mother's restaurant and no one batted an eye. Oh well, he never was a huge fan of alcohol to begin with. It would just be nice to have something to wash down his bland fries with besides ginger ale. The ketchup it this country was waaay too sugary. Which brings Tristan back to...

Why was he here in the first place?

Probably many things had to do with him picking this random bar. Loneliness and going stir crazy in his empty apartment probably made the top ten. Deciding to move into an apartment complex was probably not Tristan's best move from a social stand point. Especially when he had all that free time to cook but no one to cook for. He salted his fries and began to regretfully shallow them.

[janie0blake]

pray for them
I often lose track so I took a drag of my first cigarette

and I found my head
roll down the dumps of twenty seventh street
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Janie was most definitely high. Drake and Dare had called her up, and of course she knew what they wanted. It would always either be sex or drugs, though never rock n' roll, to her disappointment. With the first drawled, "Heeeey," into the phone she could tell which of the two it was, and she sighed at the intake of breath that she knew would follow his words. After asking where he was, she hung up with the promise that she'd be there soon.

She showed up at the dingy downtown apartment to see that it was pot today, and happily took one from a man she'd never met. Hey, that was life. They told jokes and laughed more than they should've, and she came to the munchies stage sooner than she would've thought. However, when she glanced at the clock, two hours had passed. How the fuck did that happen!? It was noon! The day was half over! She'd come here at TEN! Ahhhhhhh!

Some of the boys seemed to by eyeing her... She was fine with it when those boys were Darius or Drake or someone who she at least knew the name of. Plus, the boys there wouldn't look cute to her right now unless they suddenly morphed into hamburgers... She'd tried to rummage through the kitchen, but there was nothing. She'd eaten every bread crumb she could pick from the counter before returning to the circle they'd been sitting in. Then, a flash of inspiration! There was a bar a couple of blocks down from here!

Foooooooooooooooooooooddddd!!

After a hasty goodbye to the fella's, since she took a taxi there, she walked to the bar. But it was taking way too long... It was only four blocks, she remembered! When she finally, FINALLY arrived, she was breathing heavily from all of her walking, but when she checked her watch... It had been ten minutes. AGAIN!? Ahhh, the world was going crazy. Janie scanned the place quickly for someone she knew who would be willing to buy her some food... Her wallet was in her dorm room still and she was too damn hungry to look for an atm for another hour-long ten minutes.

But there! There was hope! The guy who tutored her in french had taken it upon himself to buy some fries and seemed to not be eating them with much gusto. Well, that was easily fixed!

"'Scuse me, Trist," she said, slipping quickly into the stool next to him and without hesitation sliding his plate over to the middle of them. She didn't want to be rude, after all. She immediately started scarfing them down, though her gut told her to slow her pace so that they wouldn't disappear. "So," she said, trying to casually eat the food she was stealing from him. "What's up?"

[MICHEAL "MIKEY" COLBERT]

Tristan wasn’t used to going to a club or a bar without knowing people or going with somebody. He could easily meet new people and mingle but they probably wouldn’t understand most of his words and be too drunk to try to. He felt pretty alone in this city. He needed to find some mates and possibly a lady or two.

Tristan looked down at his fries and contemplated throwing them away. They were pretty much his only excuse for staying here. They looked like yellow paper covered in grease and thrown into a fryer. Disgusting.

Tristan blinked a few times and back tracked in his brain. When did he get so negative? Maybe he should mingle a bit. Cure the pessimistic loneliness. As he contemplated this a tiny hand with black and hot pink fingernail polish stole his plate and began to eat his fries.

Tristan looked up to see Janie Blake, one of his tutor students from Baum. What was she doing here?

"So, What's up?"

“Ummm… sure you can ‘ave them. I can’t imagine why.” He laughed looking at her face. Her eyes were red and she smelled like the back alley of his apartment. You wouldn’t think Janie smoked marijuana but after about two study sessions where she showed up stoned, Tristan started to figure it out.

“I waz just thinking I needed to ‘ave sum fun and ‘ere you ah!” he smiled.

[janie0blake]

pray for them
I often lose track so I took a drag of my first cigarette

and I found my head
roll down the dumps of twenty seventh street
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Ummm… sure you can ‘ave them. I can’t imagine why.”

Was this guy serious? These fries were fucking GODLY!

This was it. This was the food of the gods....... Fast food. In that case, maybe it was the food of the guy with wing shoes or the rainbow chick. Maybe Zeus, he had like lightning bolts and shit, right? Wasn't The Flash's symbol a lightning bolt? But she could already guess that The Flash ate fast food. This was way better. This was better than any high. These... french fries.

Shit, this guy was a teacher... kinda. He was only like two years older than her or something, so he couldn't be a REAL teacher. So he couldn't expel her or anything! Though without his help she would've been failing french by now...

“I waz just thinking I needed to ‘ave sum fun and ‘ere you ah!”

Of course he couldn't be an actual teacher with an accent like that. If she hadn't been hearing it for over half of the year she wouldn't even understand him. As it was, she was happy at his compliment.

"Nice to see ya too, frenchie," she teased with a slightly smug grin. Janie crammed a few more fries in her mouth and swallowed before talking again. "Ya know, frenchie, I think these fries are pretty good," she admitted, though squirmed a bit in resistance of letting her abundance of fry feelings loose.

"What brings you down here, Tristan?"

[MICHEAL "MIKEY" COLBERT]

"Ya know, frenchie, I think these fries are pretty good,"

Tristan made a disgusted face, "They tazte like cardboard," he grumbled. He missed his mother's home cooked meals. She warned him the food was bad outside of Montreal but he wanted to go see the U.S.

Now he can't even get a stinking beer so that he doesn't care anymore like the Ms. Blake here. She wasn't drunk but on something that made everything taste good. Not that Tristan wanted any, he didn't smoke.

"Aff--hungry?" he said his eyes lighting up. "I waz jus abow to go back to meh apartment for dinner. Maybe you could join me and tazte real food. That iz if you are able to walk... " he said. He hadn't cooked food for anyone since his roommate dropped out and moved back home. This would be an chance to try out some new recipes.

"What brings you down here, Tristan?"

"Lonelinez I guez. I haven't been to a party sinze I moved into my apartment," Tristan pouted, "and then I come here and they say I can't drink. This country has no claz." he grumbled.

"What about you? Juz hungry?"

[janie0blake]

pray for them
I often lose track so I took a drag of my first cigarette

and I found my head
roll down the dumps of twenty seventh street
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“They tazte like cardboard,"

She "azked" herself again, WAS THIS GUY SERIOUS!?

How did he expect to last in America if he couldn't at least TOLERATE fast food instead of having to get someone like Janie to mooch off of him finish some measly fries. Which she did in good time, and Tristan seemed to notice by the sounds of his next words.

"Aff-- Hungry?"
"I waz jus abow to go back to meh apartment for dinner. Maybe you could join me and tazte real food. That iz, if you are able to walk..."

Janie's mouth popped open at the offer, but her face brightened as soon as she decided he wasn't bluffing. "REALLY? I mean, that'd be so awesome of you! You cook? I didn't know that!" she exclaimed, hugging the french man with a delighted laugh. "Thank youuuu! I'll totally pay you back!" She finally stopped her thank-fest and sat back normally on the stool in time for Tristan to answer her question.

"Lonelinez, I guez. I haven't been to a party sinze I moved into my apartment," Tristan pouted, "and then I come here and they say I can't drink. This country has no claz."

Janie frowned in sympathy and swiveled slightly in her seat. "Oh, dude, that sucks. I'm sorry, frenchie," she responded and patted his head lightly. "If it's any consolation, your hair is, like, the softest thing ever," she informed him, trying to sit on her hands nonchalantly.

"What about you? Juz hungry?"

"Yeah, something like that," she answered with a small yawn. "I'm actually gettin' kinda sleepy now..." she mumbled, though her words were still coherent. She could feel the final stage of the high coming in, way too quickly for her tastes. She wanted to keep talking with frenchie! Screw it if he told the police, but he was a fun guy to hang around with, high or not. And that was more than she could say for most of her other friends.

[MICHEAL "MIKEY" COLBERT]

And the next thing he knew, the small framed teenage girl was smothering him.

She laughed. It was such a pretty, delicate laugh. It suited her wonderfully. "Thank youuuu! I'll totally pay you back!" Tristan wasn't expecting this kind of reaction. He usually was the one with the gratitude. He smiled and gave her a light hug back.

"Nonono, it will be my pleazure. I love to cook. I'd cook for everyone if I could get my ingredients for free." he said a huge smile forming on his face.

Tristan started to plan out recipes in his head. What would take less then and hour? Maybe a cake or home-made ice cream. He could make her some real fries or hard candy. Maybe a crepe? His head spun with all the possibilities. It made him giddy to think about cooking for someone. Especially when that someone would most likely eat all of his food.

"If it's any consolation, your hair is, like, the softest thing ever,"

Tristan chuckled. He ran his fingers through his hair and called for the check. The waiter came over and looked at Janie. He then gave Tristan the check and an expression that read, "have fun." and a thumbs up. Tristan stared blankly at the man and then it dawned on him. This man thought... nonono. This girl was his student. He turned around to set the man straight and saw that he had disappeared.

"I'm actually gettin' kinda sleepy now..."

"Maybe we can do thiz some other day then. Where do you live? I'll take you 'ome," he said putting money on the table.

[janie0blake]

pray for them
I often lose track so I took a drag of my first cigarette

and I found my head
roll down the dumps of twenty seventh street
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Nonono, it will be my pleazure. I love to cook. I'd cook for everyone if I could get my ingredients for free."

Janie gulped back the sudden thickness in her throat. "Dude, you're.... You are seriously the best," she informed him, wide smile returning.

At the thought of real food, her stomach grumbled unpleasantly, reacting to the less than quality fries and the speed at which she'd eaten them. Dear, she hoped she didn't throw up... She hated throwing up, it was the most disgusting thing she'd ever done and the reason she tried not to get too drunk at parties.

She preferred drugs to alcohol, they were easier to sneak past her mother. The woman had the nose of a bloodhound when it came to any variation of alcohol, but if she visited home reeking of pot then the woman wouldn't blink an eye. Honestly, they lived in New York, how could she not...

With a shake of her head, she turned back to Tristan, who happened to be paying for her his fries. She watched the exchange between them and blinked in surprise. Her and Tristan? That was.... Well, that was an odd thought, but not entirely undesirable. He was cute and funny, she was legal and disease-free. Not much could go wrong, could it? And at least she'd skipped the horny phase today, or things would've been very awkward. The barkeep winked at her playfully while Tristan tried to comprehend the gesture, and she giggled.

"Maybe we can do thiz some other day then. Where do you live? I'll take you 'ome,"

"But frenchiiiiie, if we do that then you'll be alone and that's no fun. Everything is better with someone to share it with, right? Thank you, moral-teaching saturday morning programs. "Besides," she said with another yawn. "I can stay up if I want. I probably just need to move around a bit."

Even as she said it she knew it wasn't so. She yawned again, her eyelids drooped, and the next thing she knew she was in his car, dreaming away on the door without giving him her address.