Surrounded by honking cars, impatient taxis and people, three teens, two boys and a girl were on skateboards. One guy had dark, Italian skin and dark curly hair, wearing a dark blue, 3/4inch sleeve V-neck tee, a pair of cargo shorts, and adidans. The other was causation, with light brown hair, wearing a plain white tee, a pair of faded jeans and DCs. The girl was causation as well, with long blond hair, wearing a black shirt with capped sleeves, a pair of cargo pants that were rolled up to mid-calf, a pair of purple vans, and her hair was down in braids. They were talking amiably, when suddenly the light they were heading to changed. The guys stopped, the girl, who hadn't noticed kept going.
"Cassidy!"
"Cassidy! Watch out!"
The girl, turned around, and saw the semi-truck blocking the box. Forgetting to scream, the girl gasped, gripped the bottom of her board and disappeared under the cargo. New York City tourists gasped, worried for the girl. New Yorkers just watched non-puzzled. When the girl came out the other side, she hopped of the board and whillered around.
"What the hell? Don't block the box you motherfucker!" She screamed. The boys started laughing and the girl flipped off the driver. Then the boys realized that the truck couldn't move t until the next light, so when the light turned green, the boys gained momentum, and slid right under the truck effortlessly. She stuck out her tongue and they continued to SoHo .
At 11:45pm, Mac Taylor looked up from the crime scene in the east subway station at 28th and Broadway, after the N train rolled away, he saw Jeremy, Peter, and Cassidy holding their skate boards and talking loudly. He had gotten a call earlier that day from a traffic cop who was in Midtown and swore he saw Cassidy almost get hit by a semi-truck. Mac had called all the hospitals and no one had checked in with the name of Cassidy Claire Taylor. So he had texted Cassidy only to find that she had left her phone and keys at home.
Mac was so worried about her, it didn't even register that shewashere, right across the substation. Heglanced at his watch, it was almost her curfew, what was she doing in Grammercity Park?
"Cassidy Claire Taylor!" He called.
The group looked up, she smiled shyly at the boys, hugged them ran, up to street level ran across the street anddownagain.
"Yes?"
"You got hit by a truck?"
"Nope. Almost is the keyword there."
"What?"
"He was blocking the box, so I drove under him. Here I am, nothing different about me than before."
"And curfew? What were you doing getting off at this street?"
"Peter lives down here."
"And what were you going to do? Walk him home?"
"Why do you care? As long as I'm home by midnight."
"I'm your father and I care about you, that's why. But it's true, what you do with your time is up to you."
So, after you do whatever here, are you going to go home, actually sleep this time?"
Mac smiled "Actually, Jo was going to be here soon so I can leave."
"Okay."
Once Jo arrived, Mac and Cassidy headed up to street level.
"Ya know Dad. It's 12:03. So techinaclly it is Thursday."
"Oh, I know." He said as the pair climbed into Mac's car, "Same place as always?"
"Yeah!" 16-year-old Cassidy rooted. Every Thursday, Mac and Cassidy went out for ice cream because those were the nights that she had soccer games when she was little. She had grown past that and was now on her schools girls' soccer team, but they still kept the tradition.