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shark vs the universe
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@keeganmcgrath-blog
      “You know you’ve gone to Westfield too long when you forget that the sun does in fact exist in March — sunscreen, anyone? I’m turning into Elmo over here.”
     “TFW, right?”  Keegan smirked at him, clicking their nails on his arm.  “Mom’s been calling me about the weather, next time can you pick up?  Elmo suits you, just a little,” they put a space between their fingers, the size of a thumbnail.
@alteredboys: a day early and/or a day late- how fucking 90s
@alteredboys_: knees weak, arms spaghetti
Is it because you’re not getting laid, or because they’ve done the deed on every surface? I never know these days why people are opposed.
Because they've done it everywhere, and I've already seen Private Romeo. Â I don't need a repeat.
Swoosh.
I'm salty, I know.
"Yeah, I did at some point." Nick went back to his plants and his zombies, clicking a few times to place some sunflowers. Glancing at her phone, he smiled as he recognised a few apps. "Least it’s not Candy Crush. That was a pointless game. And I was sick of people trying to get tickets or whatever when they were playing." A little dent formed between his eyebrows when he actually looked at Keegan. "Hey, what happened there? Your lip, I mean."
"Hey, my junk food education has been very thorough." He smiled, tapping keys on his laptop again. "McDonalds, Burger King and KFC are the trifecta that everyone has to try at least once."
“I'm a little juvenile, aren't I?  You can say so.  Do you know Brooklyn Nine-Nine?  Fox made a parody game of Candy Crush for it, and I have that on my phone.  It's called Kwazy Cupcakes.”  Popping the tiny blood bubble, Keegan titled her head back, a trick that didn't work so much as stop the blood from dripping down her chin.  “Winter happened, believe or not, this isn't from one of the fights I've gotten into.”
“Debatable.  It's actually McDonald's, Pizza Hut and Popeye's.  Too bad Mickey D's is the only one they have around here.”
God no. I was thinking that club that Julien and I go to. The country one, not anything vile.
There's no gay bars in Westfield, I'm pretty sure. Â Unless you count the massive gay orgy in Ares house.
Maybe we can go for a late lunch. I’m feeling zipping out of here.
Where are we going? Â It's not like we can go to McDick's.
"Discount cocaine? What is that, exactly?" Norah sighed. "If I skip, I’ll get behind. I’m already struggling, I can’t do that to myself."
“I got a bit of it for cheaper, cheaper than whatever Reischer's paying since his price spike.  Oh, well.  Try one of the peer tutors?  There must be someone at Westfield who's fluent— that junior, who smokes like a sad chimney.”
God, I hope so. Save me Keegs.
Let's find go find Julien or something. Â Hearing him talk is unlike skipping, isn't it?
There’s a textbook where my brain should be.
Are you learning through osmosis?
Lisa thinks she’s hot shit cause she’s a sociopath.
He smiled with an edge of bitterness. Lonely sounded about right. “It’s just a game where you have to hit all the pegs with a ball to win. We can play if you want, it can be two player.” He chuckled a little, his eyebrow raised as Keegan’s line of thought. “I’ll make sure I keep my father informed about your netflix habits, I’m sure he’ll be comforted.”Â
She was trying really hard to keep this discussion going and it was honestly confusing to Nick. He would have been okay with silence if she wanted it, he spent a lot of time in it. “I like my food.” He replied simply. “And cookies while being high on weed is the best. It’s on par with pepperoni pizza the day after drinking.”
“Do you play Subway Surfer?  I like that one a lot.” She nodded an affirmation, and in doing so, ignored whatever he said about his game.  Keegan slid her phone out of her back pocket, a finger scrolling through all her apps.  Twitter, Tumblr, Yik Yak.  She didn't have games, really.  “I have Fruit Ninja, too, but that's a little outdated, a little lame,” she shrugged, picking her split lip.  “Tell him not to worry about me, Nicky.”
Fingers pulling through her hair, idly pushing knots out of her dead ends.  She lay back in her chair, keeping it quiet before she talked some more.  Keegan was sick of talking, she'd said a lot this week.  “Sure you do, you're a boy.  Ooh, right.  I like fried chicken for hangovers, but I don't think you've ever had KFC,” she joked, twirling her hair.
"It was fine," she said, careful not to divulge too much information. "Not sure if coffee will help with this one, but thanks for the advice," Norah squeezed her eyes shut. "I want to sleep for seventeen years, but if I don’t finish this French homework, I never will."
“I can tell you how spent mine, it'll probably make you feel better.  I was mad at Mickey all Friday because I got some discount cocaine awhile ago—which isn't really something to be mad about, depending on.”  She smiled, the French homework a squiggle in her eyes.  French was useless.  “You can always skip the class, can't you?”
"What exactly is Wisconsin rich?"
“Wisconsin rich isn't rich at all, that's why I'm an army brat.  Don't ask me how going to war to protect the interests of big business helps the poor, but I guess it's steady pay for people who can't afford college.  I'm West Side rich, chip on my shoulder rich.”
"I don’t care, as long as it’s a normal decibal," Norah huffed, running a hand over her forehead. "Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to, um, be snappy. Just have a headache."
“How wicked was your Friday night?”  Keegan ignored the part about her headache, just as she wasn't interested in that.  One, two bracelets clinked down her arm, louder than they needed to be.  “Do you want to go to Grinders?  Coffee always helps me.”
Think Abe Lincoln, K. Rock on.
Are you sure? Â Yeah, whatever.
