Story Time
They had all finally gotten comfortable with each other while eating their breakfasts.
“You’re such a mofo, K.”
They were comfortable, not best friends.
What could they do after unpacking? The house looked like it would be great to hang out in, but the group still had the excitement from last night going through them. Sitting around and playing pool wasn’t all that exciting.
So they decided to go shopping. Not hold-my-purse-while-I-try-this-on shopping, but impulsive, window-shopping. This didn’t sound too exciting to K, so he decided to stay at the house and sterilize his possessions and move them out of the STD room.
Everyone else, G, S, A, C, H, and B, hit the pavement after showering (well, almost everyone) and bundling up against the wind.
After boos and hisses from the guys at several stores, everyone could finally agree on where to stop- a CD/book store. Duh. Why hadn’t they just looked for one of those from the beginning? Would have saved everyone from the colds they got later that day.
No words need be spoken in a CD store unless about CD’s. Ever notice that? From there you go off on tangents.
But, anyway, the group split up. Well, kind of. G, S, A, C, and H spread out around the rock/alternative section looking for different CD’s. B disappeared in the stacks of books.
The initial silence got too heavy for G, so he starts cracking jokes with H. H, as always, says nothing, but nods to show he’s listening. C and S start talking now that the silence has been broken.
“McDonald’s!”
S has heard it too many times for it to be funny. It wasn’t funny the first time. A rolls her eyes. C looks at G for the bazillionth time like, “what the hell is wrong with this kid?” H doesn’t even nod. G doesn’t even notice nobody thought it was funny and walks away. Or maybe he did notice and that’s why he walked away. I don’t know. You decide.
Anyways, G walks away and into the rows and rows of books. It’s amazing really, all those rows of books. Imagine it.
[Stop and imagine]
He starts looking for B and finds her after a couple minutes of searching. She’s at the end of a row, sitting on the floor reading, of course. (I wonder who B is.) B sees him coming, but doesn’t let on. G stands in front of her for a minute before finally sitting down opposite her, stretching out his legs next to hers.
“Yes?”
“You read.” It was almost a question. Almost, but not quite.
“Yes, I do. Do you?” Ha, does he read. He even laughs at the question.
“No.”
And silence. B stares at G, waiting for him to say something more. He doesn’t.
Why? I don’t know. Very unlike him. He’s supposed to blather, and he isn’t.
“Are you just going to sit there?” She needs to know so she can start reading again without feeling rude.
“Do you not want me to?” He grins and knows the answer. Damn him.
“Just stop looking at me.” It makes her uncomfortable how he doesn’t look away. “It’s rude to stare, you know.”
He laughs at her until she gets up and starts walking away.
“Hey, wait.”
“Hold this,” and B hands him her book and reaches up the shelf to grab another. They walk down a couple of rows like that, periodically stopping for her to grab a book and slowly walking again.
“You don’t talk much,” he attempts.
Biting back the sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue, B says, “No, I don’t. I don’t really like to.”
Walk. Stop. Reach. Stack.
“You talk a lot.” B for Blunt. “Usually.”
S carries a plastic bag that looks like it’s about to burst as she walks down the row. C follows, while A and H wait by the door. They’ve come to fetch B and G.
“Jeez, got enough there?” C asks, eyeing the stack of books in G’s hands.
“It’s only… How many did I give you?”
“Twelve.”
“It’s only twelve.”
Eyes bug out. S whips out a sarcastic crack and then tells them they’re leaving, going next door to eat, and they’ll save some seats for the two. Then A, H, S, and C walk into the wind and out the door.
“We should talk, I know that. I mean, we’re sleeping together.” Beat. “In the same room.”
I am fully aware that it isn't all that exciting and that I focus on only dos personas, but I can go into detail on here. Very not like telling it outloud. I am also aware that the writing level (of.. goodness?) jumps up and down a lot. Sorry. Hopefully next time I'll be more consistent and it'll be more interesting.
Next time on the Real World: Chicago- colds and sex.
“You’re such a mofo, K.”
They were comfortable, not best friends.
What could they do after unpacking? The house looked like it would be great to hang out in, but the group still had the excitement from last night going through them. Sitting around and playing pool wasn’t all that exciting.
So they decided to go shopping. Not hold-my-purse-while-I-try-this-on shopping, but impulsive, window-shopping. This didn’t sound too exciting to K, so he decided to stay at the house and sterilize his possessions and move them out of the STD room.
Everyone else, G, S, A, C, H, and B, hit the pavement after showering (well, almost everyone) and bundling up against the wind.
After boos and hisses from the guys at several stores, everyone could finally agree on where to stop- a CD/book store. Duh. Why hadn’t they just looked for one of those from the beginning? Would have saved everyone from the colds they got later that day.
No words need be spoken in a CD store unless about CD’s. Ever notice that? From there you go off on tangents.
But, anyway, the group split up. Well, kind of. G, S, A, C, and H spread out around the rock/alternative section looking for different CD’s. B disappeared in the stacks of books.
The initial silence got too heavy for G, so he starts cracking jokes with H. H, as always, says nothing, but nods to show he’s listening. C and S start talking now that the silence has been broken.
“McDonald’s!”
S has heard it too many times for it to be funny. It wasn’t funny the first time. A rolls her eyes. C looks at G for the bazillionth time like, “what the hell is wrong with this kid?” H doesn’t even nod. G doesn’t even notice nobody thought it was funny and walks away. Or maybe he did notice and that’s why he walked away. I don’t know. You decide.
Anyways, G walks away and into the rows and rows of books. It’s amazing really, all those rows of books. Imagine it.
[Stop and imagine]
He starts looking for B and finds her after a couple minutes of searching. She’s at the end of a row, sitting on the floor reading, of course. (I wonder who B is.) B sees him coming, but doesn’t let on. G stands in front of her for a minute before finally sitting down opposite her, stretching out his legs next to hers.
“Yes?”
“You read.” It was almost a question. Almost, but not quite.
“Yes, I do. Do you?” Ha, does he read. He even laughs at the question.
“No.”
And silence. B stares at G, waiting for him to say something more. He doesn’t.
Why? I don’t know. Very unlike him. He’s supposed to blather, and he isn’t.
“Are you just going to sit there?” She needs to know so she can start reading again without feeling rude.
“Do you not want me to?” He grins and knows the answer. Damn him.
“Just stop looking at me.” It makes her uncomfortable how he doesn’t look away. “It’s rude to stare, you know.”
He laughs at her until she gets up and starts walking away.
“Hey, wait.”
“Hold this,” and B hands him her book and reaches up the shelf to grab another. They walk down a couple of rows like that, periodically stopping for her to grab a book and slowly walking again.
“You don’t talk much,” he attempts.
Biting back the sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue, B says, “No, I don’t. I don’t really like to.”
Walk. Stop. Reach. Stack.
“You talk a lot.” B for Blunt. “Usually.”
S carries a plastic bag that looks like it’s about to burst as she walks down the row. C follows, while A and H wait by the door. They’ve come to fetch B and G.
“Jeez, got enough there?” C asks, eyeing the stack of books in G’s hands.
“It’s only… How many did I give you?”
“Twelve.”
“It’s only twelve.”
Eyes bug out. S whips out a sarcastic crack and then tells them they’re leaving, going next door to eat, and they’ll save some seats for the two. Then A, H, S, and C walk into the wind and out the door.
“We should talk, I know that. I mean, we’re sleeping together.” Beat. “In the same room.”
I am fully aware that it isn't all that exciting and that I focus on only dos personas, but I can go into detail on here. Very not like telling it outloud. I am also aware that the writing level (of.. goodness?) jumps up and down a lot. Sorry. Hopefully next time I'll be more consistent and it'll be more interesting.
Next time on the Real World: Chicago- colds and sex.