[hr][hr][center][h1][color=ff6600]Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway[/color][/h1][img]http://media.tumblr.com/607ec71231044bd3f3e2fc61590b8040/tumblr_inline_mw2lxfRGga1qk5pw5.gif[/img][hr]Location: Inside the Gym[/center][hr][hr]Riley put an arm around Tuesday, jolting her back to reality. She smiled weakly, taking a few calming breaths. It was a bit embarrassing, her newfound fear of law enforcement. The other girls in prison understood, she'd talk with them and visit them, and in a way, she missed being there with them. However, the other horrors behind bars were enough to turn her into a skittish child whenever a police officer was around. All of them looked the same to her--just like the ones that took her into the station, the ones who stuck her on the bus, and ended her life. 

[color=cyan]"Just tell him, I know you are not someone who would do that sort of thing."[/color]

Tuesday nodded a bit, thankful for the momentary distraction as two people emerged from what she remembered to be the coach's office. The first one she recognized--Ashley Cunningham. It was hard to live in Los Angeles and [i]not[/i] know who she was. High School Horrors was incredibly popular, and practically everything else that Ashley did. The second person, however, Tuesday didn't recognize at all. He dashed over to his phone and laughed a bit. [color=9e0039]"Been looking for this. Can't function without it. It's like my second brain!"[/color]

[color=cyan]"Maybe tech-head here needs some rehab for his technology use."[/color]

Tuesday chuckled. She took a deep breath and faced Marc once again, listening to his little speech. Mentally, she went through everything she had been doing since yesterday afternoon. Of course, explaining exactly what she had done the morning prior to the flight.... 

Well, she wouldn't confess to [i]that[/i]. She'd let Marc put two and two together. If he couldn't do that much, as far as she was concerned, he was a rotten excuse for an agent.

[color=ff6600]"Yesterday afternoon I was working,"[/color] Tuesday began. [color=ff6600]"The agency had me manning the Slow/Stop sign for roadwork. After my shift got off, I went back to my apartment and job hunted a bit, before a friend called. I talked with her, ate some dinner, and then went to bed. The next morning I...I..."[/color]

She hesitated, practically choking on her own tongue. 

[color=ff6600]"I may have done my vein of crime,"[/color] Tuesday said, rushing the words and causing them to blend together. [color=ff6600]"I then sold something of mine, used the money for a ticket, flew here from Los Angeles, and hitchhiked my way to town. I arrived in town just about five minutes before walking in here. And no, I did [i]not[/i] have access to her prom dress. Like she said, I was locked up when she sold it."[/color]

She let out a breath, thankful when it seemed Marc turned to hounding the phone addict. Cynthia returned, spouting off random facts and sounding...insane. Tuesday pitied her a bit--she reminded her of people who were sent to psych and returned, by some small miracle. They were never the same, worse off than when they were sent away. 

However, something she said must have set Marc off--as he dashed off after Ashley. Tuesday glanced over at her sister. [color=ff6600]"Did those two get together?"[/color] she asked.