#v:Prayer for the Broken

[amuseadozen]

She says, we've got to hold on to what we've got

It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not

We've got each other and that's a lot for love

We'll give it a shot

Woah, we're half way there

Woah, livin' on a prayer

Take my hand, we'll make it I swear

Woah, livin' on a prayer

Bon Jovi blares through headphones as the early morning traffic is unpredictable like it always is in the large McKinley High parking lot on the first day of the year. Yet Foster Hudson maneuvers her way through it on her beloved skateboard, a gift from her best friend two years ago, with ease. Normally, the brunette would go as far as doing a kick-flip or Ollie over the speed bumps, but today she was holding precious cargo—one skinny iced Carmel Macchiato coffee from the Lima Bean. While Foster was able to get away with more than any other mere peasant, she was sure if this spilt, dropped, or leaked…her life would end today before she could even beginning her sophomore year.

If it was for anyone else, Foster would have told them to get their own coffee and/or made them pay for it. But this person, she can’t say no to—within reason, well a small margin of reason but still. Foster Hudson was in love, not the normal high school puppy love for most young adults her age, but actual love. It had been a progression since they were little, second grade to be exact. Best friends since the day said girl had protected Foster from her own twin brother. From there it grew as they did, until finally last year it’d hit Foster like a ton of bricks—she truly loved her. Which is why Foster had sacrificed an extra hour of sleep and some of her savings from her summer job when the request had come in for the coffee.

Reaching the front of the school, Foster carefully stops and pulls her headphones out before turning off the music from her phone. With that done she picks up her board and glances around. People are everywhere and if she hadn’t taken her anxiety medication this morning it would have been a mess. Crystal blues search the crowds as she heads up the steps. Her partner in crime had said she’d meet her out front. With a sigh, Foster is about to give up; either go to the girls locker or the locker room to try and find her.

“Get a room,” The all too familiar voice reaches her ears filled with so much sass for just three little words, Foster turns around. High pony swaying along with the Cheerios skirt as she moves, her cheer bag over her shoulder—Yes, one Foster Hudson is in love with one HBIC, even if she isn’t captain of the Cheerios, Santana Lopez—with Quinn right behind her up on the second floor. Foster doesn’t exactly want to scream Santana’s name…so she does the next best thing, she whistle—loud enough for the Latina to hear and know to whom it belongs. Once she has her attention Foster motions for her to stay where she is before the brunette makes her way through the students and up the stairs to them.

“One skinny iced Carmel Macchiato,” Foster offers the drink with a small genuine smile, “Morning, tansy.” Foster ignores the electric shock she gets as their fingers brush as Santana takes the coffee. Begrudgingly, Foster doesn’t ignore Quinn. “Quinn.” A nod sent her way. While personally she doesn’t hate the blonde, Foster just isn’t her biggest fan because of who she’s dating— her not so pleasant older brother. If Quinn for some reason mentioned Foster had ignored her, Finn would throw a fit tonight when they got home. As kids try to pass them the barely younger Hudson moves closer to Santana; one to make room and two Tana is better than her anxiety medication.

“Foster,” Quinn acknowledges her back, eyes racking over the girls choice of clothes; a blue jean jacket that is more fitting than too big, a grey band t-shirt underneath, black skinny jeans that are tucked into brown Swede boots, and a black beanie on her head. One of Quinn’s perfectly sculpted brows ticks up as she realized the boots are untied. “How did you not kill yourself on the way here?”

“Huh?” Foster looks down at her boots, one hand moves to rub the back of her neck as her shoulders shrug, “I didn’t even realize it honestly.” She looks over to Santana, “When I got your text, I kinda zombied it when I got ready.” She chuckles a little before kneeling down to tie her boots. The first warning bell sounds as Foster stands back up, “You already found my locker right? Mind showing me before I walk you to class?” The question is directed at Santana.

[amuseadozen]

@storiesung

[amuseadozen]

What is your muses love language?

Quality Time:

In Quality Time, nothing says “I love you” like full, undivided attention. Being there for this type of person is critical, but really being there—with the TV off, fork and knife down, and all chores and tasks on standby—makes you feel truly special and loved. Distractions, postponed activities, or the failure to listen can be especially hurtful. Whether itʼs spending uninterrupted time talking with someone else or doing activities together, you deepen your connection with others through sharing time.

@storiesung