"The Warehouse."
You feel your eyebrow raise. There's nothing unusual with him picking that spot, but even you in all of your recklessness has to admit that it is a pretty intensely sketch place. Urban myth says that at least five people have died there. You're fairly convinced it's true.
"Sure. Meet you there." You reply at last.
"Sweet. Later."
You hang up.
Tossing your phone in the general direction of the phone deck, you lay on your bed and stew a little more.
And then remember you have homework
of all things.
Screw it. You need to blow off your anger. And
there's no better way to do it than a quick jog around the city.
You choose to exit the house through the front door this time, and surprisingly, your parents don't give you much of a fight. Patting your front pocket to make sure you have your phone, you leave quietly.
You
might say you aren't looking for trouble, but that would be
kinda a lie.
It's a little past noon, from the position of the sun. 1:17 to be exact. Your phone told you that, but you wouldn't say it out loud; being able to read the sky just makes you seem so much more interesting.
Everything in town is open, except for maybe a bakery down on Park Street. You have some time to kill before the meeting goes down.
Where do you go first?
--
Credit to: Bobbie
(I'm so sorry about not posting. I seriously don't know what happened. I had too much writer's block, I couldn't find time... but now, I'm back, and ready for action!
I'll ask again; please post in your comment if you think I should start a new story. I think that this has kind of lost its allure.)