AN: I do not own.
He finds her waiting for him under an overcast sky. The tree Sherry leans against is old and knotted. Dirt smudges into her shorts and legs where she sits among the roots. In her hand is box of chocolate cookies. Brand, partially wrapped in blue plastic, torn open at the top allowing her to slide her fingers inside. She's already chewing.
"What are those for?" asks Jonathan as he approaches. He hesitates as he nears her side, and she peers up at him. Crumbs are scattered around her mouth. For a fleeting moment he remembers what she looked like when they were younger. She used to have short, feathery hair—lighter than it is now. Wore tiny moon earrings before other girls even considered piercing.
Sherry's eyebrows shoot up as she makes a brief, full-mouth laugh. She covers her lips quickly and swallows. "What do you think they're for, Jon? God." Brushing her face with her wrist, she absently pats the space beside her. Jonathan sits. She turns to him again, lowers her voice, then says, "Actually though, they're full of drugs."
"Really?" He asks.
"Yup."
With that, Jonathan wordlessly removes a cookie and eats it.