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[May. 14th, 2032|01:03 am] |
Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, life goes on
Lala how the ( life goes on. ) |
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[May. 14th, 2032|12:41 am] |
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[May. 14th, 2032|12:39 am] |
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[Oct. 22nd, 2010|09:35 pm] |
Knowing when to stop wasn't Lucy's strong point. In fact, it was a very weak spot. If it was fun, why stop? No early morning classes on a Friday. No classes at all. Another Thirsty Thursday to enjoy without real responsibility hanging over her head. That was tonight's excuse to get lost. A few buddies who lived off-campus with a keg problem; insofar as they had two of them and only so many mouths between them. A text fired off to her partner-in-crime and she was off with her guitar on her back. Bright red hair tucked into the back of a well-worn corduroy pea coat, a knit tam hanging precariously at the back of her head. The weather had taken taken a sudden leap towards cold. Hands were tucked deep into her pockets as she walked with her eyes up, the eternal goofy grin plastered on her face.
Days were shorter now. But there was something about that first night when it was cold enough to see her breath, feeling the blood the nip in the air brought to her cheeks. The feeling of a cold beer in a plastic cup against her already cold palm. The way the airless basement turned towards sauna. Coat and hat lost the wind. Sweater abandoned on a sofa. Wandering in tattered jeans and a camisole, laughing too loudly. Kenny was here somewhere. She liked to pretend she wasn't looking for him. Keeping one wide blue eye on the mass, hoping to see the bob of a head that was fully visible over the rest of the crowd.
There had been a few passes, stopping the urge to run over and jump in when he had a girl leaning back against a wall, a hand pressed into the wall above her head as he spoke to her casually, the other hand bobbing wildly at his side. Too close. Not that she had any right to stop him. The best friend wasn't supposed to be a cock block.
By beer number five, though, self-control had melted away. She didn't stop long enough to move from the urge to the rational thoughts that were supposed to keep her in her current conversation. A stumbling zig zagged path cut from where she stood across the room, rolling onto her heels or ducking to make her way around people. Arriving too quickly. Before she could gather herself enough to create a legitimate purpose for her mission. Oh well. She was here now. Not a moment too soon. The way the newest conversation partner was twirling her hair around her finger. "Kennnnyyyyyy!" She bounced in place. "I have a joint with your name on it."
That sounded good. RIght? A joint always sounded good. |
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