Ring ring

[Emily Littleton] It's mid-afternoon, sometime between when school ends and the myriad of extra-curricular activities that Enid's no doubt involved in begin. Her phone rings, and it's an unfamiliar number on caller ID.

[Enid Geraint] Currently, there are no school or extra-curricular activities other than the constant volunteering and running; Enid's life is, in fact, rather clear. Emily wouldn't know that, though, as they hadn't gotten that far in the introductory process; there had been no reason for it to come up when they met.

"Hello?" It's puzzled and uncertain, that voice - clearly, she doesn't often get calls she doesn't recognize. But she knows Emily has her number, so it's not as nervous as it could be.

[Emily Littleton] Ah, well, yes, Enid picked up. Good good. Now Emily had to shuffle through the variety of phone politnesses she'd learned over the years and pick something that would resonate with the younger girl.

"Ah... Enid?" The blend of unintelligible accents is familiar enough. "It's Emily. Hello." She's sounding a faint bit British this afternoon. It's a subtle difference, and likely not too important. "I was just calling to see how..." a little pause "you were feeling."

[Enid Geraint] "Oh, hi," she says, and the blush is almost audible. "I'm . . . uh . . . sorry for being a brat last night. You weren't having a good day either, yeah? That was hardly fair." Emily, she likes; Emily, she'll apologize to. She'll be damned, though, if Jarod will get the same courtesy.

"I'm . . . alright, I guess. How about you?"

[Emily Littleton] "Don't mention it," she says, lightly. "Everyone has bad days." Emily's voice is a little softer today. Gentle without being too cloying. "And I'm getting better, thanks. Bit of a headache, but I suppose I did that to myself."

Her voice shifts a little. "Look, you mentioned some heavy stuff last night. If you ever need to talk, or just be around someone without talking, give me a ring. I can't say I can relate, directly, but I know what it is to feel out of sorts and like you lost something ... vital."

[Enid Geraint] ".....he was my boyfriend," Enid says in a small voice - it's an anniversary of sorts, or near it. A month, almost to the day, since (she killed them) they died. "And she was my best friend. It was . . . weird. And complicated." There's quiet then, and a pause long enough it almost seems the connection's been lost.

Enid's not used to sharing in such a way - she can talk to her parents about a lot of things, but not everything. "Thanks. I really appreciate the offer; I may take you up on it."

[Emily Littleton] Emily drew a slow, deep breath. It was the sort of pensive sound that traveled along telephone wires, and through the ether of this digital age. Enid would hear it, would know that the gravity of her disclosure hit home.

"Y'know, if we were across the pond right now, I'd buy you a pint." Solemn. Something about her tone says that it's a ritual for things lost, friends lost, not a sophomoric need to get drunk.

"You need people to cleave to, when things like this come home to roost. It's too much to take on your shoulders, alone," she said softly. It was almost as if Emily tried to reach out through the phone, to squeeze the girl's shoulder again, to re-affirm their somewhat-kinship. "But you may also just need to be let alone. So call, if you want, even if you just want to bake cookies, or come see the lab, or people watch on the mile. And keep yourself safe, yeah?"

[Enid Geraint] ".....I emptied my kitchen of baking materials the other day. I made something like sixty loaves of bread of several varieties and sent Ashley home with five of them." It's wryly amused, even in the melancholy. But for the most part, it's just to say, "If you like to bake, you'd love my kitchen. And I don't mind company - I've been spending way too much time alone, lately. And it's . . ."

There's a sigh, impatient with the constraints of language and vocabulary.

"It's not the same. People don't stare any more, at least not in normal places but . . ." She'd said it was complicated and weird; apparently, she hadn't been exaggerating. At least not as much as one might think.

[Emily Littleton] "I'd adore your kitchen," Emily said, and she meant it. "I have all of one square-foot in the cold box at my flat," she added, illustrating just how nice a kitchen could sound when you barely had room for some milk a few fruits.

"Let's have a baking date, then. I've some delightful recipes from all over. A very international cookie baking day. It could be fun, and we both need a bit of that, I'd guess."

People looked at Emily oddly whenever she opened her mouth. Sometimes before that, if she was living somewhere with common features opposed to her own coloration and visage. It got old, fast. It was harder yet in your late teens, when even you didn't know who you were anymore.

"Maybe this weekend? I've finals to study for, but baking is great procrastination."

[Enid Geraint] "Sounds like a good idea too me. I'll invite Ashley too, and we can make a girls' night of it? I think Dad's at one of the other professor's for poker on Saturday." She muses for a second and then, "Maybe Kage, too. Do you know Kage? I don't think Ashley knows how to bake, but she likes bread, anyway."

It's almost, but not quite, a smile in her voice - she likes this idea. "Unless you'd rather just the two of us. And Mom gives me recipes from everywhere, too, so it'll be cool to see where we overlap."

[Emily Littleton] "I've met Kage," she says. Emily likes Kage. Kage makes sense. "Out in the woods one afternoon."

"I'll leave the guestlist up to you," Emily said. She never had been much for holiday parties. That would require having a group of friends all in one place. "Let me know what I can bring."

[Enid Geraint] "Just you, probably, and any special ingredients you think I might not have. We'll have a lot and some fairly exotic stuff at that, but I don't know what you'll need. We've got all kinds of mixing bowls, two stand mixers, two hand mixers . . . I used to bake with my mom," she says, and the shrug is audible.

"But now she's always traveling. We still have all the stuff, but only half of it ever gets used, because while Dad's okay in the kitchen, he doesn't get into it, you know?"

[Emily Littleton] There was a bit of sound in the background, and then a void while Emily covered her cell phone with her hand. A holdover from the days before every phone had a mute button.

"Um, lovely, just call me with the details, kay? Apparently something has gone awry in the lab, and we've already blown up one board this week... Can't afford another one." The wry twist to Emily's voice intimates that this minor explosion may have been why she was so irritable the night bore.

"We will have a grand time baking, yes? And I shall see you soon!"

[Enid Geraint] "Yeah, see you! Good luck in the lab." Enid's much more cheerful for all of this, even if it is just a distraction - "See you later!" - and with that, the call ends.