Pace yourself

Who: Porter and open
Where: Washington Street
When: early afternoon

Day two in town, and Porter was feeling pretty good about things. For all the awkwardness he'd had after helping Kaysen the night before, he was proud of what he'd done. Really, it had helped him sleep deep and peacefully, and he swore he'd had the dream about getting a power ring again. He'd woken early, letting both his parents sleep in as he went about fixing himself a small breakfast, then had gotten back to unpacking his things.

It was quiet work; organizing his comics on the book shelf, moving Wade's tank to a more sunlit spot, unpacking clothes, and doing a spot of light research on skateboards online. By the time he'd finished, the sun was already high and he needed a break from staring at the monitor. He'd pulled on a sweatshirt; classic blue with the Superman logo, and told his parents he was going for a jog. There was, after all, so much town to explore before school started tomorrow.

He'd run the shoreline at a steady pace, half-hopeful that he'd run into Medea again, but not too upset when he didn't. The lake itself was more than enjoyable when it came to occupying his attention, and he decided this would be a good regular route to jog as he hiked up the harbor's hill and onto Washington street. If this was supposed to be one of the main drags through town? He was finally really seeing the small-town vibe of the place because of it.

Porter didn't mind though, huffing out a breath that fogged the air as he ran past a row of shops, his eyes darting down the gaps between buildings to look for fire escapes, mapping the inbetween spaces as best he could. Who knew, someday he might be leaping these rooftops with a mask on. As if this town needs heroes, he thought with a smirk, then suddenly stumbled and nearly kissed the pavement as he fought to not collide with someone turning the Third and Washington corner.

Lurching forward, Porter slung an arm around the mass of a streetlight to keep from falling entirely, his face burning with a blood rush that was half exertion and half embarrassment. Oh god, don't be Kaysen, he thought in a fluster, knowing she'd let him hear it if he nearly hit her again.