lilymooning:
“Mandy Brocklehurst, are you giving me dating advice? Tell me more, I mean after all, you did bag Wayne,” though, if she was being honest, it was something she’d never understand. Opposites attract? Was Mandy secretly sweet? Was Wayne secretly more like Mandy? Lily could never deny that she didn’t really understand romantic love, she didn’t understand the appeal of coupling up now, of them getting even more attached to each other when she knew how easy it was to cut the cord of life and lose someone. ADDING an attachment? That could’ve been avoided? She didn’t get it.
Maybe she could ask Mandy. Though, she doubted that would go over well, she thought, pleasantly surprised to see Mandy had gotten under the desk with her. So, maybe she did have a playful side – even if it was more a necessity for survival than it was Mandy going along with her antics. Inspecting the room, seeing the charms come to an end, pops, glitter, sequins and confetti – her work there was done. Realizing how tired she was, her chaotic urge quenched, her anger fizzled out for now, she sighed, finally looking at Mandy.
“Well, I mean, NOT REALLY. I should go probably plan the next party or something with Stephen or go beat up Megan but she’s probably sucking face with Morag somewhere, so. And you? You’ve got nothing better to do than to troll the halls like a … troll?”
Rolling her eyes, Mandy didn’t bother filtering her words. It wasn’t a mercy she performed often, especially not where people like Lily were concerned. As fun as the girl was at parties, there was something more feral than wild about her these days, something slightly unhinged and dangerous. Almost as if she was a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off. When that happened, Mandy intended to be far far away. “Well, someone has to.”
Tutting, Mandy didn’t bother hiding her disdain. “None of those things sound better. Slightly less dangerous maybe. Although I’ve been to your parties.” Tone softening at the end, she allowed her lips to twinge upwards ever so slightly. “And they’re pretty chaotic.” The sort of distraction people needed in times like these. The sort that spelled trouble. Stiffening at the insult, Mandy shot daggers in her direction. “I’ve been doing something productive.” The end didn’t need saying, it was implied enough. Unlike you. “And then you called me in here. And now we are. Curled up under a desk like...” The comparison evaded her. “You seriously need a hobby.”










