Disclaimer: I only own Nituna.
Jericho sat in the bar, still thinking about Trish. And Christian. But it was what Trish did that hurt. He looked up as a girl walked in and sat down. He watched her for a minute, noticing her tanned skin and long black hair, and walked over to her.
"Hi." He said.
"Hi." She replied, clearly not wanting to have a conversation with him.
"So, are you Native American or something?"
"Half Native American."
"What about the other half?"
"I don't know."
"Right. You want a beer?"
"Ok."
"So what's your name?"
"Nituna."
"I'm Chris."
"Very original."
"Yeah well we don't all have an interesting heritage."
"Yes we do, but most people don't appricate theirs. I think latino is the new cool thing. Or maybe just normal American. I don't know." She looked up at him. "What happened to you?"
"I was......I had a match."
"Match?"
"Yeah, I'm a wrestler."
"Oh, so you live for beating people up?"
"You saying you don't find it interesting?"
"Maybe a little bit." She smiled.
"You wanna be a wrestler don't you?"
"I....not exactly. Alright! I don't know what is I'm just drawn to it, I have no idea why 'cos my mom hated anything even slightly violent."
"Where's your mom now?"
"She died last year."
"Oh. Sorry. Maybe you wanna be a wrestler 'cos your dad was one."
Nituna thought for a minute. "He did travel a lot. But my mom mentioned something about him actually killing people."
"So was he a phsycotic killer or was he in the army?"
"I don't know."
"Are you sure you're old enough to be in here?" The man asked giving Jericho his beer. Nituna got up and walked out.
"How old are you?" Jericho asked following her.
"I'm 16."
"Then......."
"What? It's not like I'm only 10 or something. 16's almost an adult."
"It's not-"
"Just leave me alone."
Jericho sat in the bar, still thinking about Trish. And Christian. But it was what Trish did that hurt. He looked up as a girl walked in and sat down. He watched her for a minute, noticing her tanned skin and long black hair, and walked over to her.
"Hi." He said.
"Hi." She replied, clearly not wanting to have a conversation with him.
"So, are you Native American or something?"
"Half Native American."
"What about the other half?"
"I don't know."
"Right. You want a beer?"
"Ok."
"So what's your name?"
"Nituna."
"I'm Chris."
"Very original."
"Yeah well we don't all have an interesting heritage."
"Yes we do, but most people don't appricate theirs. I think latino is the new cool thing. Or maybe just normal American. I don't know." She looked up at him. "What happened to you?"
"I was......I had a match."
"Match?"
"Yeah, I'm a wrestler."
"Oh, so you live for beating people up?"
"You saying you don't find it interesting?"
"Maybe a little bit." She smiled.
"You wanna be a wrestler don't you?"
"I....not exactly. Alright! I don't know what is I'm just drawn to it, I have no idea why 'cos my mom hated anything even slightly violent."
"Where's your mom now?"
"She died last year."
"Oh. Sorry. Maybe you wanna be a wrestler 'cos your dad was one."
Nituna thought for a minute. "He did travel a lot. But my mom mentioned something about him actually killing people."
"So was he a phsycotic killer or was he in the army?"
"I don't know."
"Are you sure you're old enough to be in here?" The man asked giving Jericho his beer. Nituna got up and walked out.
"How old are you?" Jericho asked following her.
"I'm 16."
"Then......."
"What? It's not like I'm only 10 or something. 16's almost an adult."
"It's not-"
"Just leave me alone."