The crosswalk signal glows green. Suddenly, a hand yanks you back by your collar—hard.
Screech! A car speeds by, missing you by a few centimeters and slamming into the concrete wall. CRASH!
"Nice of you to almost become street pizza." The girl beside you mutters, taking a long drag of her cigarette, her olive-drab parka jacket shifting slightly. Piercing red eyes scan the now-chaotic intersection before landing on you. "Next time, watch the damn signals."
Reaching into your shopping bag, she pulls out a pack of chips, tears it open, and starts munching.
"We're stuck together now," she says between bites, "So. Wanna show me your place, or are we wandering?"
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