"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Don't cast aspersions on my asparagus.
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"Why, ladies, I want nothing!"

He pulled up a chair, so he could join the two.

Cochise students had to stick together, that much should be beyond debate. Regardless of what personal squabbles they had, or petty disagreements, or trivial personality clashes, out in public, there should be an obligation to stand by your classmates, to grin and bear it, to put up with even those at the school who had unique and trailblazing personalities. Loyalty and commonality should not be undermined by mere petty personality clashes. If that made him an unrealistic idealist, then he was proud to be such!

Bradley didn't actually believe that. But it made a good excuse, were he to be confronted by them! The ties that bind, what unites is greater, blah blah blah, all that feel-good hippie Obama shit.

"I just wanted to know you two felt about the prom! Any good anecdotes? Anyone get fingered behind the school, or caught imbibing precious liquor in the toilets, or anything fun like that?" He asked with a sincere smile, no shame diluting his exuberance, no appreciation for any issues others might have with his loudly-proclaimed illicit choices in conversation topic.

He spread his legs out, brushing against theirs beneath the table, and slumped down in the chair. His shirt rode up as a result of his lethargic seating position, revealing his belly flab to the two ladies. He placed his hands contentedly on his stomach, and burped. He had to force the burp out, but it was worth it.
V6 peeps:
Kiziah Saraki
Bradley Floyd
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Swipe Rite · After the Dance