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Guest
Guest
Noah was sprawled on one of the love seats in the lounge, head propped up with two throw pillows and too-long legs spilling off the other end, easily touching the floor. A basic black notebook had been opened, folded over on his lap, and he occasionally scrawled something down in it. After twenty minutes, the page was covered with more then a few of the conversations going around him, along with his evaluations of the speakers, and the cap of his pen was wrinkled and misshapen where he had absentmindedly chewed it.
Eavesdropping on a bunch of teenagers wasn't exactly high on his list of exciting things to do, admittedly. But seeing as it was 27 degrees outside and windy, he couldn't exactly go out for a romp in the forest or something, and he still hadn't signed up for any classes. So he was stuck inside, feeling like an idiot in a grey sweater and matching pants, spying on his fellow students.
He tapped the pen on the corner of the page, leaving behind tiny dots of ink that spotted around the word 'easy' he had written to describe some blonde sitting in a crowd of friends. Apparently, there was a dance going on of some sort. That seemed to be all anyone was talking about, at least. All the girls were either giggling about how someone had asked them, or complaining about how their one true love had asked someone else, and all the boys were pretending they didn't give half a crap about some stupid dance.
He winked at a girl looking at him like a hungry lion looks at prey, grinning at the thought of the already desperate state of some of the students. The dance was what, two weeks away? He shrugged at his own question, turning the page of his notebook and scribbling down a few lines describing her.
Eavesdropping on a bunch of teenagers wasn't exactly high on his list of exciting things to do, admittedly. But seeing as it was 27 degrees outside and windy, he couldn't exactly go out for a romp in the forest or something, and he still hadn't signed up for any classes. So he was stuck inside, feeling like an idiot in a grey sweater and matching pants, spying on his fellow students.
He tapped the pen on the corner of the page, leaving behind tiny dots of ink that spotted around the word 'easy' he had written to describe some blonde sitting in a crowd of friends. Apparently, there was a dance going on of some sort. That seemed to be all anyone was talking about, at least. All the girls were either giggling about how someone had asked them, or complaining about how their one true love had asked someone else, and all the boys were pretending they didn't give half a crap about some stupid dance.
He winked at a girl looking at him like a hungry lion looks at prey, grinning at the thought of the already desperate state of some of the students. The dance was what, two weeks away? He shrugged at his own question, turning the page of his notebook and scribbling down a few lines describing her.