memories like a nightmare, c

Drew was almost home. She loved the fact that despite it being almost always dark out by the time she got off volunteering, she could see the beach. The Winchester's vacation house was by the beach, a little slice of upper middle class cheer. It was well away from the noise of the main part of the island and secluded enough that she could retain privacy if she wanted a swim or had friends over... Haha at that last part. She hadn't really made any friends on Nova since her arrival. It was all work work work. If she wasn't volunteering, she was mixing medicines. If she wasn't mixing medicines, she was buying herbs. It meant hours trying to find a good source for her customers. She didn't want her mixtures to make them sick. There was all ready a competition for scientific medicines and "designer" body and bath oils. She didn't need to lose what customers she had due to screw ups. Uhhh, but seriously. Drew never stopped and thought about friends. Not for a long time. Not since university. At best those people were "acquaintances". People just out for their education. They didn't have time to make friends. It had been a serious course load. Sure, she went out with them for drinks but all and all, they didn't keep in contact with her. Except facebook-ish updates. 

No, no... If she had to say, she hadn't had friends since she was little. She all but forgot about them. They've grown up, moved on. She did too. Her family wasn't from the island. Her father's company was just lucky to have taken off, and they came into money and bought a nice place near the beach. They were invited to social events. Boring stuff. Drew remembered once that she almost tore off a frilly blue dress complete with an ugly bow at some important person's party. She still hated dresses. 

But yeah, her folks used to take her to Nova for vacations. She played with the children here. Made friends. But they were children. They didn't keep in touch, especially after Drew was dragged away to be home schooled when she reached the ripe age for Grade 1. Then it was no visits to Nova. No more friends. She sighed, closing the book she was reading as she walked along the deserted street. Drew hadn't been thinking of any of that. She'd been reading poetry, trying to grasp the complexity of it. Again. Her copy of Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky (the complete collection of all the dude's poems) was about to fall to her side. Instead it flung itself into the air and fell a few feet away.

Drew herself, having reacted perhaps a bit over dramatically, had thrown the book in the air and had one leg up in a comedic manner. Her amber eyes locked onto the person who spoke to her. Partly because it was a stranger, partly because she didn't know who the hell he was and why he knew her name, and partly because it was a guy made her freeze up. Oh shit oh shit oh shit, where's my mace?

"Y-You... You have me confused with somebody else."

It just kept going through her head. Mace mace mace mace mace. Oh sure, it was totally irrational to just mace some random guy on the street. She was fairly certain she'd get a ticket or spend a night in the slammer. Both if she was lucky. Drew Winchester was nothing but lucky. She just... It might be her phobia talking, but she had a bad feeling about this guy. Could be that he was waiting here for her, and knew her name. She developed "I can see you in the dark" eyes from her random outings. Couldn't sleep. Stress. Had to be. In the dim light, she could swear she'd never seen this man before. Never encountered him at the hospital. Not at her little business. Not even at the school. He just kept talking too. He was so damned sure of himself, trying to prove he existed to her. It made him sound like a crazy person.

Miles Vella. No. She didn't know who that was. Sweat dripped down her back and she swore her eyes became unfocused. Great. Faint. Right in the middle of this situation. Drew retreated backward, into the safety of the shadows where she could run and hide. She did not want this person near her.

Promised to... always be friends. Always. Hah... hahah, this wasn't happening to her, right? It had been a long shift and her mind was playing tricks... Oh, nope. She pinched herself. Awesome. All those years of school just came up blank. Lovely stuff. Nothing in there about survival. Thank you, sheltered life. It would have been beautiful if her father taught her self-defence. No, he just told her that "he'd always be there to protect his little girl." Well father dear, she was alone right now. With a potential stalker.

Can't... You can't just stand there, idiot oh good, her mind wasn't broken.

The young woman really could not say what forced her forward. Perhaps it was because deeply rooted in her terrible memory that she actually knew this person a very long time ago. Or maybe she found that running would not be a good idea. Hey, if he knew her schedule, it was possible he knew where she lived. What was the point, am I right?

"Oh... Oh! M-Miles! S...sorry. It's been so long and it's late and... You just shouldn't give your name out to a total stranger! Haha..."

Drew tried to make her laughter as light and airy as possible, but anybody that knew her truly would know her to stutter at times when she was nervous. To give her courage and credit, she reached out and gave the young man a light slug on the shoulder before retreating her hand. Amber eyes anxiously met blue, as if apologetic for that display of unasked touching. "But you're no stranger, obviously, and I'm ranting. S-Sorry."

She tried to act as normal as possible. Maybe she was trying too hard. Well, it was difficult to act normal when you were never normal around men. He'd figure it out eventually, she thought, and there would be severe consequences for lying. Drew turned her back on Miles and went to collect Jabberwocky, rummaging around in the dark trying to find the leather bound volume. It made it easier to talk when you weren't looking at the male in question, and having an excuse to look shifty and nervous; an object of yours was missing and you were worried about it. It was possibly lost in the dark somewhere. Etc etc. "I don't pick the hours" Drew replied casually, running her bare hands over the pavement. "and if I bitch, I might be sent back home."

That was true enough. No more volunteering meant she wasn't good enough to cope. Back to Canada where the weather was frigging cold all year round. But she wasn't worried about that so much as his comment. How the heck did he know about her sleeping problem? Was it just a casual worry? No... Couldn't be. Yes, Drew always had to analyse every detail and make it into something to be paranoid about.

She glanced up at him then, resisting the urge to throw the book she just found at him and run for the hills. Shit, he was onto her. Scared... Yes, she was scared. She had to do something right then. Admit the truth or lie her ass off. It could be a little bit of both, couldn't it? Carefully Drew looked around the both of them before getting to her feet and hurried over to him. She made herself come within whispering distance, feeling her feet trembling under a near psychotic break from being this close. "I think somebody's been following me home. That's why I freaked out when I saw you, Miles. I thought it was them" she shuddered, casting her amber eyes over his shoulder anxiously. "I don't want to go back to my house right now. Please can we go somewhere with other people?"

It really - truthfully - took all her courage and anxiety training to not faint or just puke all over him when he suddenly grabbed her. She hadn't allowed anyone of the male gender to grab onto her except for medical professionals or during counselling. Counselling had been just a disaster. She'd been put in the youth group so many times to lower the bar. Anyone under eighteen was perfectly safe from her nervousness. But this was too much. Her defence mechanisms were going to kick in. Her cover? Blown. When she got anxious, she got scared. When she got scared, she tended to, uh, yell. A lot. It was her body's unique way of rejecting anxiety. Drew angry. Drew yell for ten hours until she felt better. "Do you honestly think I'd stop long enough and get a good look at this sick person?" she retorted. "all I know is that they're taller than me, so it's mostly likely a man. This isn't a busy street and I can tell by how much heavier their footsteps are that they are taller. But I did look back once and catch a glimpse of dark hair..."

But now I have an excellent description for the police. Plus a name. Thanks for making my life easier if I get away she thought, dimly aware that even though she had a cellphone, making that call would have to be really away from Miles. But she'd have to make him happy enough to let her go. Which meant he'd have to convince himself that she was safe somewhere. But she couldn't go home. Would not lead him there.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I-I'm sorry for snapping. The shift was long and I wasn't looking forward to walking all this way with some creep running around. Yeah, the... the pier sounds nice. We could just get lost in the crowd. Lead on."

She flashed a smile his way, trying to amuse him in his thoughts. Like previously stated, she didn't remember much from her childhood and she didn't remember him. The less she said, the less she elaborated or added on about what he told her, the better she'd be. If she said the wrong thing, it'd piss him off. Blow her cover. Then she'd be screwed. Nobody liked a liar. Somehow she didn't think he'd understand her trying to amuse him, playing him like a fool, while trying to escape him. Miles seemed really intent on her remembering him. It was like it was the most important thing on his mind right now. That and her pseudo-stalker tale. He's not that bad Drew thought, helplessly telling herself to calm down. he seems to genuinely care about my safety. I can't say for certain anyone else's... She'd soon see how he acted in public.

Oh shit, what if he sees somebody that looks like the fake stalker? People are going to be around the pier. It'd seem like people are following... He might mistake that. What'll he do then? He wouldn't attack them in public, would he? she felt like she had a handle on a beast. A very light handle. Almost non-existent. Did she mistake the anger in his eyes earlier when she was short with him? Err, she hoped so.

"I am awful hungry..." she admitted, patting her stomach with her free hand - oh gawd, stop touching her - and managing a soft laugh. "I'm always hungry at night. But uh, I-I... I have money. You don't have to.." her words mumbled off and she looked embarrassed.

"I know! How about a game to pass the time there? Uh, poetry! Recite poetry. I hate it, it's awful, but I want to challenge myself. Know any poems? Songs count, too. We'll each try and figure out what the heck it means."