“I don’t get it, Vath,” Mirith said as she played with a blade of grass, sitting on the curb as he scrubbed at a bug stain on the front bumper of his mother’s car... which he still hadn’t gotten to learn how to drive.

“Get what?” Vath asked, half soaked, but thankfully it was a warm enough day that it didn’t matter. Jathas was on the hood of the car, scrubbing as well.

Mirith shifted, leaning back and linking her hands around her knees as she looked up at the sky briefly. “You know everything there is to know about the Natan Fleet ships, but you hate the show.”

Vath paused, looking back at her. “I don’t hate the show...”

“Yes you do.” She looked at him with her head slightly cocked. She had just gotten her hair cut and it was curling around her shoulders now. For the longest, she’d had it down to her shoulder blades. His hair was nearly down to his mid-back, but he knew that would be changing soon. Lisha had demanded that he get his hair cut like Natan’s for that stupid play. He had decided he wasn’t going to do it ‘til maybe the day of. “You complain constantly about how this or that is inaccurate. You mutter about how ‘Natan would never say that’ or complain about how women throw themselves at him on the show.”