In the semester that she'd been here, Gert had learned that there were basically two reasons to be in a common room: to watch a bad movie or to try to pawn bagels off on people. Today, shockingly, was an example of neither.
No, today she had Chinese food to give away (seriously, what was it with the delivery guys in this town and bringing way more
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"Chinese food?"
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"Help yourself," Gert said, gesturing to the counter. "Dumplings're good."
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She didn't really order food often enough to make a fair judgment there, but she was taking a wild guess.
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Seeeeeeeeeriously, masked man, lighten up a bit, will ya?
. . . ha, like that was going to happen.
Anyway. A workout of her own after class (because hanging around the ol' Bats always made her feel like she'd better make sure she wasn't slacking off on her training) and a shower later, she ventured common-room-ward in hopes of finding food.
"And here we have the standard food source of the Fandom High student," she intoned in a bad imitation of David Attenborough, very documentary narrator-like, "the excess amounts of takeout. Scientists have yet to determine the cause behind this common phenomenon, but we do know for certain that it occurs most often in dorm common rooms."
She dropped the accent and perched on the back of a couch. "Translation: that is for sharing, I hope, right?"
Stephanie was a dork.
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"Hey," she greeted her big sibling. Glancing at the Chinese food, she asked, "Is that for sharing?"
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That would be the weird part of her day.
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She nudged Old Lace with her foot.
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