Better Than Revenge (Peyton)

[Aryana Darcy]

Somewhere, Somehow, Aryana Darcy had gotten some very interesting information, and she was not happy.

The retreat had been some time ago, fond memories of truth or dare and then a little... get together with Carter that ended with the shrink throwing a towel at them caused her lips to twitch upward into a knowing smile. They almost got kicked off the retreat. Almost. There were lap dances and kisses, partying, and just overall fun. The experience hadn't bother her, that is, until she found out about that Peyton kid. Even the thought of his name brought an expression of disdain to her features.

He manipulated her, plain and simple. Pheremone manipulation was not a power she faulted, but when someone 'used' her, she wouldn't allow that to go unpunished. But just how would she punish him? First off, she had to find him. She tried his room (Who happened to be the same as the Chevalier's, oops), but he wasn't there.

The next option was just to wander aimlessly, hoping to find him somewhere on the grounds. It wasn't the most foolproof plan, but by the end of the day she aimed to have his number in her phone. You would think Rya would just scream at him and let it go after that, but no, Rya was hoping to make a lasting impression.

Leaning up against one of the trees in the courtyard, Rya scanned the courtyard diligently, though her outward expression almost seemed bored. She would stay out here for an hour, max, before she would give up and try another area. God, why did finding people involve so much time?

[Peyton Turner]

Peyton was walking across the courtyard on his way back to the dorms post-swim. The swim had been nice. Relaxing. It had cleared his mind a bit. And now, he was realizing that wet hair was really not a good idea in the fall in Vermont. Luckily he at least had a sweet hoodie to keep him warm, though he wished it was a little thicker.

As another cold drop of water trickled down his back, he winced. He really wished he'd kept his towel out. Or at least had dried his hair a little more thoroughly before deciding to head back to his room. Water down the back of a dry shirt was a necessary evil, but an evil nonetheless. But alas - his towel was stuffed unceremoniously into his bag, and to pull it out now - damp as it was - would just be a pain. He could handle a little discomfort on the way to his nice warm room.