Re: Kids in America (IC)
Val's defiant smile compresses into a thin line of trembling frustration.
"What you don't need now, you little..." she started to say, voice rising into something that could have ended in a screamed threat or a sobbing cry, but she was mercifully interrupted by the Go-Ganger before it could resolve into either.
And then she was suddenly watching from the sidelines as Tailgate whispered into the ear of the zombieboy. Val wasn't sure which one stinged the most, being snubbed by the adult or sidelined by the 'ganger.
A couple of seconds too late, she felt that residual heat signature on her shoulder, like the faint afterglow of a laser puncture on a titanium hull, just like in the movies. And just like in an orbital strike, there was no pretending it had been an accident, a casual brush in some Kessler cascade. Not the first or the last time someone had tried to touch her, but unlike other times, she didn't have her usual detail of cybered bodyguards to professionally maim the miscreant. It was hard enough to give them the slip and sneak out to the Obelisk.
She opened her mouth again, ready to scream again, grateful for having someone else to direct her anger at. She didn't even remember the bartender any more, her sights locked on this new scapegoat, ready to make him pay - not for the casual touch or the snub, but for everything. The sum total of all her short life's frustrations, concentrated and taken out on Tailgate, just because he was there...
And then she stopped herself, remembering Stefan.
The Golden Boy was just a step behind her. He must have seen the whole thing. He was going to witness this too. He'd go to Theo and the rest of his clique with the tale. No, that ridicule she couldn't afford. She swallowed it with a disdainful smile.
"No, I totally didn't," she replied to Tailgate with as much nonchalance as she could muster. She turned her back on the bartender, propped her back against the bar and crossed her legs, affecting to not care at all for him, the place or the company, a studiedly bored look on her face - but her eyes were still burning with suppressed rage, a fire behind the chrome façade.