5.0 Aww

by Matt P.



Later that week evening came to the Border with an unseasonal hint of crispness, a snap to the late August air that few had expected and fewer appreciated–a promise of the chill to come later in the year. Not so unpleasant as to require heavy coats, it nonetheless smelled like future frost and caused Siobhan to consider a hoody. She looked at her outfit in the mirror and considered.

A black shirt off one shoulder, strategically ripped at the bottom enough to give peeks at her midriff and the as of yet still fake magnet backed navel ring. Black jeans with holes displaying fishnets, combat boots, and tousled hair completed the look. Suitable chicness for a night out with the girls (and boys), but also a little extra-curricular breaking and entering. She grabbed her studded purse and walked out in to the main room to meet her sister.

Antigone had chosen a long shirt and legging look, the shirt in a dark purple with some flirty gold bits. The leggings were black and tucked into sensibly heeled black shoes. Her clutch matched her dress and flashed with little gold sequins. “Ready?” She asked.

Siobhan nodded. “Ready.” They moved out of the house to wait on the porch for their ride. Monica had inherited, much to her shame and utility, a family minivan to drive; apparently she got detailed for troop movements a lot because of it, both with family and friends.

Their father was on the porch reading in a flannel jacket. “What’s the plan, girls?” Walter asked.

“Movie with Lacey, Monica, and the Gang.” Antigone answered. Siobhan smirked a little bit, waiting for the inevitable follow up question.

“Boys?” Walter asked without looking up from his novel. Siobhan’s smirk blossomed into a full smile that she shared with her twin.

“Several.” Siobhan answered, before Antigone could. “Many, even. Of varying quality and social class. We may, in fact,” Siobhan continued as she gave a little twirl, “mix it up with rogues, blackguards, and worst of all Nebraskans, ‘ere the eve is done.” Antigone giggled at Siobhan’s tweaking of their father.

“Mmm.” Walter mmm’d noncommittally. “Got your OC?” He asked, looking up. Both girls produced slender bottles with spray fronts labeled Oleoresin Capsicum, beneath the brand name Pep-Arr Spray with a picture of a crying pirate. Despite the amusing branding it was some of the strongest civilian pepper spray on the market, and Walter bought it for all three of his children. “Where are you planning on sneaking to after the movie?”

Siobhan blinked as Antigone flushed guiltily. “What do you mean?” Siobhan asked in a carefully neutral voice, even though both girls and Walter knew what she meant was ‘How did you know?’

Walter gestured to Antigone’s shoes. “Even with a chill in the air I’m lucky Annie isn’t trying to go out barefoot. Sensible shoes equals shenanigans.” He looked between the two girls with a knowing and amused smile. “Are you going to be safe?” He asked, and when they nodded he continued. “Am I going to get a call from the police?” Both girls shook their heads. “Alright, I suppose that’s good enough. Have fun, try to come back with your shoes this time, and don’t do anything that will keep you out of college.”

Both girls gave their father a grin and a hug as Monica drove up with Lacey in shotgun. They waved as they made their way to the van. Antigone paused halfway into the van, looking back to their father with a merry smile. “Community College still counts, right?”

Both girls laughed as Monica gunned it in reverse to escape the empty can of soda their father chucked at the van.