Dating is stupid, flail on the carpet instead (Ash)
May 23, 2014 19:06:12 GMT -5
Post by Marnie Sullivan on May 23, 2014 19:06:12 GMT -5
Marnie was in such a haze when she arrived back from classes that it took her several minutes of trying and failing to enter her room before she realized she was attempting to push open a pull door. When she noticed her mistake, she finally flung her door open, embarrassed but relieved that the dorm was empty of witnesses. It wasn't the first little mistake she'd made in her daydreaming state lately - attempting to write with the eraser side of a pencil, scooping ketchup on a salad at lunch - but it was the most obvious.
Most days Marnie stacked her textbooks properly on her desk and pretended she would start her homework immediately. Today she didn't even get that far, simply dumping her books on the wooden surface and throwing herself onto her bed to stare at the ceiling.
This was stupid. Completely, utterly stupid. There was no good reason to be getting this worked up over a boy she'd just met, especially one as ridiculous as this one. She wasn't in love, of course not. She wasn't even sure if she liked him. But he seemed to like her, like like her, and maybe that was the problem. Marnie's track record with romance wasn't bleak so much as empty. There was the two-week relationship in the seventh grade, when they barely managed to peck each other on the lips and then broke it off when he'd moved to Arkansas. Then there was the eighth grade, when an invitation to a dance made her powers boil over and she was pulled out of school. At Hammel, if anybody had ever flirted with her during the campus hours she'd limited to class, Marnie had been completely oblivious. But this boy, well, he was nothing if not heavy-handed.
He was also willing to strip for no reason. Another key difference between seventh grade and now.
Restlessly, Marnie rolled over and buried her face in a pillow to stifle a frustrated UUGGGHH. The girl had a full collection of trashy novels under her bed, it'd be a lie to say she hadn't made the connection between their contents and the boy's suggestions. But books were safe, contained. Having the opportunity right in front of her was a whole other animal.
Marnie tugged on the cover of her bedspread and tried to pull it over herself. Instead, she rolled a little too far, landing with a thump on the floor wrapped up like a yellow cotton burrito. She groaned and half-heartedly tried to wriggle out of the bedspread before giving up, still oblivious to the fact that she'd left her door open.
Most days Marnie stacked her textbooks properly on her desk and pretended she would start her homework immediately. Today she didn't even get that far, simply dumping her books on the wooden surface and throwing herself onto her bed to stare at the ceiling.
This was stupid. Completely, utterly stupid. There was no good reason to be getting this worked up over a boy she'd just met, especially one as ridiculous as this one. She wasn't in love, of course not. She wasn't even sure if she liked him. But he seemed to like her, like like her, and maybe that was the problem. Marnie's track record with romance wasn't bleak so much as empty. There was the two-week relationship in the seventh grade, when they barely managed to peck each other on the lips and then broke it off when he'd moved to Arkansas. Then there was the eighth grade, when an invitation to a dance made her powers boil over and she was pulled out of school. At Hammel, if anybody had ever flirted with her during the campus hours she'd limited to class, Marnie had been completely oblivious. But this boy, well, he was nothing if not heavy-handed.
He was also willing to strip for no reason. Another key difference between seventh grade and now.
Restlessly, Marnie rolled over and buried her face in a pillow to stifle a frustrated UUGGGHH. The girl had a full collection of trashy novels under her bed, it'd be a lie to say she hadn't made the connection between their contents and the boy's suggestions. But books were safe, contained. Having the opportunity right in front of her was a whole other animal.
Marnie tugged on the cover of her bedspread and tried to pull it over herself. Instead, she rolled a little too far, landing with a thump on the floor wrapped up like a yellow cotton burrito. She groaned and half-heartedly tried to wriggle out of the bedspread before giving up, still oblivious to the fact that she'd left her door open.