For the first sentence prompt:
“I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”
this is very much NOT five sentences, i apologize in advance:
“I can’t believe you dragged me into this,” Troy mumbles.
Annie shoots him a reproachful look, just long enough to make him feel guilty about complaining before she turns her attention back to an approaching crowd of students, greets them, and passes them their programs for the evening with an almost aggressively cheery smile. He hands a few out to the people coming up by his side of the table too, with a touch less enthusiasm.
“You’re the one who said you owed me for helping you pass Astronomy,” Annie reminds him once there’s a lull in the crowd again. “We’ll be even after this, okay?”
It’s true, he did say that. He huffs in annoyance at his past self.
“Yeah, okay,” he concedes, “But of all the events to work… a student film festival? You actively dislike hipsters, I don’t understand why you chose to do this.”
She bristles slightly at that, sitting up straighter in her chair and folding her hands on the table in front of her. “It’s just nice to volunteer, Troy,” she says firmly. Her voice sounds a little higher than usual.
Troy ponders her for a moment before a thought occurs to him and his eyebrows shoot up.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he shrugs, nodding at a few more students on their way in and keeping his tone as casual as possible. “So this has everything to do with you being a good person.”
Her lips are drawn tightly as he glances over at him, then back away. “Yes.”
Troy nods. “And nothing to do with Stacy from Astronomy, that girl with the blue hair and nose ring who happens to be double majoring in Film and Gender and Sexuality Studies.”
She slowly deflates in her chair and looks over at him pathetically. “Is it obvious?”
That makes him feel a twinge of sympathy, so he takes the smugness out of his tone and shrugs. “Well… maybe not obvious, but—”
“Shit!” She cuts him off when something in the distance catches her eye. “Shut up, never mind, shut up, here she comes!”
“Oh my god,” Troy whispers, “You’re a disaster. You know, if you’d just be yourself…”
He trails off as he follows Annie’s gaze to where Stacy is approaching their table. She’s actually dyed her hair pink now, it seems, but that’s not what Troy is focusing on at all.
No, he’s focusing on the guy she’s walking with—tall and dark and handsome, dressed in skinny jeans and a flannel, with an adorable smile and big brown eyes and some je ne sais quoi that makes him feel weak in the knees, which would worry him a lot more if he weren’t already sitting down. He feels his cheeks heat up and his palms start to sweat.
“Annie?” He finally manages, voice soft and strangled as he wipes his clammy hands on his jeans. He’s sure his sudden change in demeanor is cause for confusion but he’s not looking at Annie’s expression to see if that’s the case. He can’t; he can’t stop staring forward. “Who’s that?”
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