“For crissake, man-- When are these people going to stock the shelves with something more than an eleven year old can sound out?”
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“For crissake, man-- When are these people going to stock the shelves with something more than an eleven year old can sound out?”
Simon pulls up into Brit’s driveway, shuts off the engine of his Camaro and jogs up to her door in unbridled excitement. He rings the doorbell once. Twice. Three times in his excitement, honestly couldn’t stifle his grin if he tried.
“Brit! Come on!” Simon yells up into the direction he knows her window is, his grin wide, “We have to get good seats!”
“Is that so?”
closed starter ➵ magic
“So, I think I cracked why there aren’t any owls around the muggles. They have this phone app called Twitter where you send tweets to other people like little letters. --How nifty. It’s also cute how they’re keeping the bird theme.”
Simon picks up the bag of food off the porch mat on his way in, opens the unlocked door and looks around curiously for any members of Merrit’s family very suddenly realizing he didn’t bring any food for anybody else. Shit. “Hi! Uh, I’m here! Um...”
“Why can’t I bring my cat to school? SirMeowfflepuff isn’t doing anything! He’s just livin’. Also, who else is going to deliver my notes to Monet during class?”
“Okay, I get who Ceaser is but what’s the “Ideas of March”? --I mean, how can a month have an idea?”