garden of eve

When Eve raises the menu to cover her face, Emmett lets a small smile of amusement creep onto his face at the protective gesture. Her dramatics resonate with him, speaking to the same flair nestled inside of him. He hides it away promptly as she slowly lowers it back down - the look on her face informs him on the seriousness of the situation. The tortured suffering in her expression reminds him of his own and his heart is pulled towards her. As Eve articulates her feelings to him, Emmett can only think of Charlotte. Their bodies pressed together in the dark and the silent vacancy between them now. "Yeah." Emmett scoffs. "Trust me, I might know that feeling better than anyone."

Eve's confession bursts out of her and Emmett allows himself to have a look of shock on his face while her head is momentarily buried in her hands. He pinches the bridge of nose, shaking his head. "Oh, Dom...what you are getting yourself into?" he muses to himself. Emmett returns his attention to his distraught friend. He reaches across the table to gently pat Eve's head. "C'mon, Eve. It can't be that bad. I mean, what happened between you two, anyways?"

Maybe she was overthinking the events at the dance. Maybe it was an innocent exchange between the two, but the scene kept replaying in her mind. Dom grabbing her wrist. Calling her pretty, finding it hard to believe she was there alone... Her thoughts trailed on. That night weighed heavy on her mind, she had been desperate to tell someone about it. She also feared the repercussions that could follow. "Well," she started, lips pursed searching desperately for the right way to word things. "He called me pretty, and smart, so that felt nice." A coy grin on her face. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Then the memory continued. Lowering her voice she went on, "then we got into a fight, he scolded me, for my gum chewing. So he stuck his hand in my mouth and pulled it out. I almost stuck it in his hair." Unsure if she should say more, she paused for a beat. Then decided against her better judgement to tell Emmett the truth. "I left, embarrassed. He followed me outside, we argued about it a bit..." Breaking eye contact, she looked down and finished her story. "Then he offered me some pot and I smoked it." She slammed her face down once again, appalled at her own actions. "I'm absolutely mortified."

Shooting her head up, she remembered what she was doing before she had found Emmett upset. "And then!" She exclaimed, throwing her bag onto the table. "I found this in my journal after Tillie kicked me out." The torn out pages were crumpled, but the message was still legible. "What in the world does this even mean? Consume me? Like cannibalism?" Her eyes wide and wild, showing the papers across the table to Emmett. The blood red ink had turned a darker shade. She could hardly manage to look back at it.

Emmett appreciates the way her hand on the back of his neck grounds him - the weight of it giving him something to connect to in a bodily sense, fighting the dissociation best he can. After crying so hard, he is absolutely depleted and an empty, hollowed out feeling is trying to dig its teeth into him. "No one's a lost cause." he lets that sentence echo around in his brain, begging his memory to hold onto it. Was it possible that he could force himself to believe it? Did he actually believe he even deserved to? Before he can cascade down another thought spiral, the quick kiss on the cheek snaps him back into his body. For the first time that night, a genuine, small smile drifts onto his face. At the mention of milkshakes, Emmett laughs quietly. This was turning out to be one of the strangest nights of his life. Leaning into the unexpectedness of it all, he agrees. "That is quite possibly the best idea I've ever heard."

--

Entering the bright light of the diner causes Emmett to squint a bit, his eyes burning ever so slightly. The two of them sit across from each other in a tiny booth towards the back and now Emmett can really tell that something is wrong with Eve - her gaze drifting out the window, staring at nothing. Biting her lip skin. Fidgeting with her fingers. Emmett reaches out to her. "Hey..." He places his hand gently on top of hers. "Really, though, Eve. What's up with you? And don't say nothing because you aren't doing a good job at hiding it at all."

His laugh brought a matching smile to Eve's face, thankful to have some company after her fallout with her roommate. There was no way she could go back tonight. Charlotte would probably smother her in her sleep. "I have those every now and again." Paired with a giggle, she stood up and pulled him up along with her.

--

In the unforgiving lighting of the diner, Eve catches her reflection in the window. The welt on her cheek had started to recede, but the memory still pained her. She couldn't understand why she was driven to such a volatile reaction to Charlotte. They've fought before, many times. Tonight was an embarrassing reminder of her short comings, and lack of control. His words interrupt her thoughts, snapping her head back to her friend. "Hm?" Eyes opened like a deer in headlights. "Me?" She starts to laugh nervously, clearly unsettled by his inquiry. Emmett was a safe place to put her feelings, she knew this. Yet something still held her back.

Aside from her roommate, Eve's mind always wandered back to Dominic. Since the dance, he haunted her dreams, filled her diary and possessed her thoughts. Something about him was so intoxicating, taboo. He was everything she had been told to steer clear of, and yet, she couldn't. Pulling her hand back and bringing the menu up to her face trying to hide her very obvious distraught, Eve felt like a wild dog backed into a corner. Scared, caught and embarrassed. She decided to be brave. "It's just," she stuttered, lowering the menu back down. "You know when you like someone, even though you really shouldn't. And you want to do crazy things to get their attention even just for a second. Like, jump-in-front-of-a-car crazy, in hopes they'll tend to your wounds or something..." She trailed on, looking back out the window. Half hoping his car would pull up. Turning back to her friend, the words spill out like vomit. "Since the dance I haven't been able to stop thinking about Dr. Koenig." She slams her face into her palms on the table, unable to meet Emmett's gaze, which she was sure was laced with judgement. "I think he's possessed me or something."

It was beneath her, she knew this, but she had always dreamt of hitting Eve. Really, dreamt of it. Sometimes she'd find herself dozing off and fantasizing about how good it would probably feel. And, well, now was as good a time as any. She winds her hand back and strikes the girl twice as hard. Eve stumbles backward a little bit and it brings Tillie great satisfaction. Totally worth it. "I'm a bitch? Rad, I'd rather be that whatever brand of freak you are!" She rounds on the girl and pushes her toward the door. Her face is flushed from the rage burning inside of her. "You need to get the fuck out before I actually do something I really regret".

As Tillie's hand collided with her face, Eve started crying harder. It was a deserved reaction, Eve knew this. Charlotte's slap was more hurtful than any correction her parents bestowed upon her. It was a deserved reaction, Eve knew this. Her words stung more than the slap. Freak. It echoed through her mind and burned deep into her brain like a red hot iron brand to cattle. Eve didn't try to fight the girl anymore, merely accepting the punishment at hand. "Okay, okay..." Raised hands in defeat, "I'll go." Before leaving she managed to grab her journal and a thick sweater draped along her desk. Eve could feel the welt on her face growing. Anywhere would be better than here tonight. She grabbed the door handle and escaped. Forgetting her keys behind her.

The carefulness and thoughtfulness of her touch promises to bring him to his knees - he cannot keep it locked up any longer and soon, he’s openly sobbing. “Fuck I shouldn’t have - I shouldn't have kissed her, Eve. I should’ve walked away. I should never have - but I did. I did. And everything is different now. Ruined. It’s all my fault.” Emmetts breathing is fast and erratic, his lungs burn. It barely crosses his mind that she might begin to question who he's talking about. When she tells him she’s been there before, Emmett wrinkles his brow, shocked to hear her say this. He supposed there was quite a lot the two of them had to learn about each other. “You? But you - how - when -"

Eve’s words of reassurance offer him solace despite the fact that Emmett has never been a believer or a follower, in that regard. He knows he’ll never change his mind about that ,but he lets the words wash over him anyways, foolishly choosing to believe that perhaps she’s right. Maybe there is still time yet for him to heal. He accepts the handkerchief from her with a small smile of thanks, continuing to wipe his tears away with it. Emmett runs his fingers along the bumpy, raised fabric where some initials were embroidered to regulate himself. “At least someone believes that I’m not a lost cause.” he mumbles, partially to himself. With an exasperated moan, Emmett lets his head fall into Eve’s shoulder, resting his forehead against her shirt sleeve. “I have the worst headache of my life right now.” 

Kissed? The confession pricks Eve's curiosity. Who? Someone from their French class? That was the only explanation for his concern about disrupting the order of things. It was such a tight-knit group that any shifts in the dynamic were bound to be catastrophic. Her mind races until it lands on the one answer that made sense. Her roommate, Charlotte. Something deep inside her grew numb. She knew that the two of them had a close relationship. Well, from what she could tell anyways. Tillie never told Eve much, and especially after the events prior to this one, she doubted she'd hear much of anything from her again. Trying to hide her concern, jealousy?, Eve decided to change the subject. "It's your first time on earth. You couldn't possibly blame yourself for not knowing how things might play out, Emmett."

His question raises panic in her. She didn't mean to say that out loud. "Um, well," it didn't seem right to leave him in his vulnerability alone. "I do have feelings, y'know. Conflicting, confusing feelings." Biting down on her lip, a physical attempt to stop herself from admitting things she hadn't even come to terms with herself. Since I've left home, I'm finding it extremely difficult to think about going back." Between their professor, her roommate, her relationship with God - her hypothetical legs could give out at any moment.

She cradles his neck, the same way her mother used to after she'd come crying to her about a scraped knee. "No one's a lost cause." The words felt more like a self affirmation rather than a comfort for her friend. She gently places a kiss on his cheek. Unromantic entirely, merely a token of understanding. "Yeah, I bet you do," she pulls back, examining his face again. It was nice to see he had calmed down, even just a little. Then, a bright idea popped into her mind. "Wanna go get milkshakes?"

The annoyance, no, the apathy for the situation radiating off of Eve gave Dae a sour taste in his mouth. In his life, Dae did his best to be friends with everyone, because everyone deserved to have someone. But the more he interacted with Eve, the less he felt like they could get along. Maybe it was because her emotions, to Dae, felt bigger than anyone else he had ever met. It was so easy for him to fall into the same state of mind as those around him, and she pulled him in faster than he could stop himself.

He leaned in conspiratorially with her to listen to what she had to say before he half-chuckled at her statement that everyone had lost their minds. Of course, she wasn’t going to share some mind-altering piece of opinion; Dae should’ve known that. Any idea going against religiousity would obviously be blasphemous and downright crazy.

He brought his coffee up to his mouth as Eve started talking again. When she mentioned Dr. Koenig shoving his hand in her mouth at the dance, he choked on his coffee. Hot liquid seared down his throat before being spat out back into his cup. He continued to cough for a moment until he could gather his bearings. “Excuse me? What do you mean our professor shoved his hand in your mouth? How can you just move on from that?”

She was growing more and more interested in this paper. Dae seemed awfully uncomfortable by it being in her possession. Maybe this was another thing that kept her always on the outside of the inside joke of life. Maybe she was the one who had things wrong. Though she'd never admit it. As the days went by she started to realize more and more that there was so much more than what she had been told. If things weren't meant to be on this earth, then why did her God create them in the first place?

The paper didn't exactly reveal much to her. It was mostly chicken scratch with a few things circled and underlined. Candide... Candide? She wasn't entirely sure what that was. She had heard some stories growing up, or rather read about certain things. Her local library didn't seem to stock much 'otherworldly' tales, so her knowledge on the subject was null. Sliding the paper back to Dae across the table using her pointer finger, target on a heavily erased and rewritten question, or at least she thought it was a question. "What's this about?"

Eve says it so casually, so callously. If she had any more energy she would have screamed, but this deserved more than that. Eve was always toeing the line of disrespect. She constantly poked her and pushed her right to the edge. What had she done to deserve a roommate like this? Surely she must have been a serial killer or some close second. Though maybe it wasn't her fault at all. She had met a lot of annoying people in her life - actually most people annoyed her - but Eve was a special case. And after half of a semester she should know better than to act like this. But, because she doesn't, Tillie decides to teach her. She decides she is done restraining herself with the other girl.

She nods once, the picture of composure. Tillie opens the window and the cool, night breeze floods in immediately. She smiles at what she knows will come next, but to Eve this probably looks as though she was trying to calm herself down. She wants to laugh, suddenly overtaken by the energy of retribution, but she holds it in. "Okay," she says quietly. She rises from her seat slowly and then in an instant she darts across the room snatching Eve's ugly pink shoes, then runs back to the window and hurls them outside. There is a second before they make a satisfying clatter on the cobblestone courtyard just beyond the window. She looks at Eve, a feeling of victory quirks her brow. "Oops!"

Eve had never called anyone that before.

She was furious it was directed at Tillie of all people. She could just... Without a second thought, the palm of her hand swiftly connected with Tillie's cheek, so hard her own hand stung. Fury pulsed through her veins, nearly frothing at the mouth. Reality sets in, her wrath settles and regret fills her mind. Her actions will certainly have consequences, and that scared her more than anything.

just so you know

Emmett can hardly muster the courage to ask his next question, but he's burning to know what Eve might have to say. Tapping his fingers anxiously against his kneecap, Emmett speaks. "Hey uh - in your..." he trails off briefly, searching for the right word. "Faith?" he shoots her an uncertain glance. "If you refer to it that way, is there....I mean, like - can someone ever be... too far gone to be saved? Damned, I suppose? In a way..." his voice has quieted a bit, he notices. Before Eve can answer, he continues - "It's just like - because if someone really can be too far gone, what can they do? Are they - I mean, do they just have to live with themselves like that forever?" a twinge of anxiety is seeping into his tone, the fear that he was the person in this hypothetical scenario growing stronger. "Because, like, they still have a whole life to live, I -" Emmett tries to bruteforce his way towards a deep breath. He has got to stop rambling. "Just...what if that's.....what if that's me, you know?" Emmett braves a look in her direction, only to find she wasn't looking at him as judgmentally as he thought she would be.

His question catches her slightly off guard. It had been a while since someone had genuine interest in her beliefs. Having grown accustomed to low-blows and snide remarks from others, it takes her a while to muster a response. As Emmett continued, she nodded along, listening intently. This is what religion was about to her, helping lost, misguided souls find hope and reasoning again. To give them something to hold onto when everything else is so unsure and wavering. A soft giggle leaves her mouth, not in mocking manner, but in a way that says 'I've been there too.'

"No one is too far gone." Placing her dampened handkerchief in his hand and turning it over, pressing it to his chest. "There's strength in asking for forgiveness, repenting, atoning." Her eyes darting back and forth over his swollen face. "It doesn't matter what you've done, what matters is what you do to make sure it doesn't happen again. We're human, He knows that more than anyone." A soft lipped smile tugged her cheekbones up her face. "That's part of why He loves us, we're bound to make mistakes, He made us that way." Hoping her words comfort the lost soul in front of her - her intent wasn't aimed towards conversion. More so hoping it would be a sense of clarity in his storm.

Emmett strikes the match in his hand against the flimsy cardboard of the box it came from. The tip fizzles and sparks, a flame blooming before his eyes. He brings it to the end of the spliff hanging out of his mouth and it crackles as it burns. Emmett inhales deeply, letting his head fall back against the brick wall behind him. The only light around was a dim streetlamp, otherwise he was surrounded by the darkness of the night. He distractedly watches the moths and tiny insects swarm and erratically fly around the light. He normally wasn't one to smoke, but he had run into Eros earlier in the day, who had looked him up and down once before blurting out: "You look awful, Clermont. Need a pick me up?" Emmett glared at him, but snatched the spliff out from behind his ear anyways.

It was true - he did look awful and he felt it too. His hands are shaking as he smokes but as the moments pass, they became more and more still. A delightfully thick fog was coating his brain and he relished this feeling - like he wasn't in his body anymore, but floating directly above it. However, the relief does not last long. Whenever his eyes drift close, all Emmett can see behind them is Tillie - her furious expression, the sound of her yelling, the deep depths of pain behind her eyes. It wasn't any better when his eyes were open either. All alone. Without her.

Emmett lowers his head into his hands, the spliff rolling out from between his fingers and he begins to cry softly. A sickening idea burrows itself into his brain - Pain always tethers him to reality - Emmett scrambles for the matchbox, striking one up again. He stares at it for way too long, considering bringing the flame to his skin, but it burns down to his fingertips before he can even make that decision. Suddenly, there's a hand on his shoulder and he jerks away from it, whirling around to see who it is, face wet with tears. "Oh." Emmett hates how dejected he sounds, bites the inside of his cheek. "Hey Eve......"

Her speed was intense, and her mind was empty - for the most part. She couldn't quite shake the feeling of Dr. Koenig's hand in her mouth. Half of her wished she had bit his fingers clean off, the other... She shook her head, trying to clear her wandering thoughts. She pinched at her skin lightly, trying to bring herself back to her current reality.

Her grades were slipping, her parents were mailing her constantly - worried from the lack of response. She couldn't muster the courage to tell them that University life hadn't been what she thought it would be. Even more avoidant of the latest subject at hand - magic. It was ridiculous, of course. But what if...? Shaking her head again, she powered through the night, hanging close to the lights on the path.

Suddenly, she smelt a familiar smell. It was the same smell from her time in the Professor's car. Marijuana. Blech. Determined to find who was the source of this disgusting habit, she followed her nose like a bloodhound. Her eyes locked onto the culprit. A small flicker of a match glittered through the night, and she realized who it was.

Emmett. Walking towards him, she started to practice her lecture in her mind. Until suddenly, his face came into clear view. Clearly distraught, in pain. For once, she realized this was not the time to preach. The scrunch on her face quickly softened, and her pace slowed.

As the space between them disappeared, her concern grew more and more. This was not his typical broodiness, this was borderline melancholy. She reached out to place a soothing palm on his shoulder.

"Emmett," she cooed. "Are you okay, what's happened to you?" Kneeling down beside him, careful not to soil her dress on the ground.

Emmett hesitates to continue speaking on it. With Eve's background, Emmett is more than certain that she does not approve of witchcraft. As discreetly as possible he slides his occult books back into his bag, However, he figures it couldn't hurt to ask if she wanted to hear the poem. Emmett really didn't mind Eve, which he found insanely surprising. Normally, he wouldn't gravitate towards someone like her and yet, the two of them had bonded through literature well before he found out about her being religious. He pats the ground next to him. "Well, since you're here anyways, come sit with me. I've got a poem to share with you, if you'd care to hear it. That is.....as long as you're done worshipping the tree, or whatever."

Maybe she would graduate and wallow back to Utah, find a nice Mormon man and live the life she was always destined to. Repeat the cycle that has been forced upon every woman in her bloodline. It was comforting, in a strange way. Although being away from her shelter has made her start to question things. Maybe she wasn't condemned to the same fate. Maybe she wanted something more. Eve wasn't entirely sure what "more" meant, but more and more she wanted to find out what it could be.

One of the people who made her feel at ease with the uncertainty of things was Emmett. Though she could never really pinpoint where most people stood with her, she was almost confident in the fact he wasn't entirely feigning interest in her. Their conversations were mostly centered around classic literature, poetry - and sometimes the odd gossip now and then. Normally, Eve wouldn't allow herself the indulgence, but it felt safe with Emmett. "Yeah," she replied to his statement. "I'm not quite sure what to believe at this point, everyone seems so convinced at what were being told," she paused, realizing the irony of her own statement. Quickly shaking off the thought, she continued. "What if he's just been practicing magic tricks, y'know, tricks of the eye and whatever... Next thing you know he'll pull a rabbit out of a hat or a coin from behind your ear." Or shove his hand down your throat.

She plopped down beside him, accepting his invitation. She smoothed out the wrinkles of her long dress, and crossed her legs in a childlike manner. She motioned back to the tree with her thumb, "big guy didn't have much to say." Her face in a half cocked grin. "But sure, I'd love to hear it." She scooted closer to him and rested a palm on his thigh - finding comfort in the closeness.

Tillie shoots the other girl her best glare as she unlocks the door. "Eve I might actually do something drastic if this happens again. I mean really drastic. Like burn those ugly, clackity shoes you wear all of the time drastic." She points to a pair of pink ballet flats on the ground by the foot of Eve's bed for added effect. Sighing deep, she settles back into the wooden chair at the desk. "Really, how are you so irresponsible?" She calls back at her, head down and resuming her reading. She is half talking to Eve but mostly just talking out loud. Tillie wasn't completely interested in a quarrel with her roommate. It was more of an impulse than anything - an itch to scratch.

The stark contrast between the two was appalling. Tillie's sterile environment highlighted her own chaos. In Eve's defense, it was just as much her room as it was Tillie's. Any complaints her roommate lodged with her flew over her head.

She lets out a mousy "thank you" and throws her bag onto her unmade bed and flopped down on top of it, her bible jutting into her back. Just as quickly as she laid down, she stood back up. Eve doesn't take lightly to threats. Especially when it comes to her clothing.

"If you so much as touch my stuff when I'm not around, I'll..." She dragged on, not entirely sure what she would actually do to Charlotte. "You'd regret it." Her threat was empty, all she would do in reality is probably cry about it.

She walks over to Tillie's desk and grabs whatever she could. "What are you even reading anyways? Some more weird liberal garbage?" She holds the book by its corner, dangling it over the trash can before letting go and letting it fall. "Oops?" A smug grin plastered on her face. She didn't even really mean to react so strongly. But those were her favourite shoes.

Digging through the contents of his bag, Emmett catches glimpse of the book he is looking for - an issue of the Texas Quarterly with a poem by Sylvia Plath titled "Witch Burning." After Dom's well-kept secret came out and he proposed to teach his students about witchcraft, Emmett had not been able to focus on anything else. The library had been an alright resource, producing a small research pile for him to delve into. Emmett pages through the book until he finds Plath's poem.

"In the marketplace they are piling the dry sticks. A thicket of shadows is a poor coat. I inhabit The wax image of myself, a doll's body. Sickness begins here: I am the dartboard for witches. Only the devil can eat the devil out. In the month of red leaves I climb to a bed of fire."

Before he can continue, Emmett's ears perk up at the sound of a stick cracking behind him. From his peripherals, he recognizes the person standing nearby. "Might as well just come out now. You're not entirely great at being sneaky, y'know."

Her mind was more scattered than usual following her last French class. It had riled her in ways she could hardly explain. On one hand it was at the very least entertaining to watch her classmates fall for their teachers cheap tricks. On the other it was blasphemous - so much so, she considered dropping her minor all together.

All the newfound revelations of the day paired with her brisk motions, Eve's internal temperature started to rise. Additionally, her traditional undergarments weren't exactly helping regulate things. Along with her increasing temperature, her temper starts to as well. She knows when this happens, nothing productive can follow. If she had any chance of salvaging her day, she must ground herself. Closing her eyes, she found a shaded tree next to her to lean on for support and tried to breathe calmly. Eve started to whisper Psalm 46:10. "Be still, and know that I am God." It's a simple yet intentional act, reminding herself what truly mattered in these unknowing times.

After self-soothing, the air suddenly felt lighter. As did her mood. She giggles lightly, shakes her head and rubbed her lips with relief. She stood back up straight, and gently pat the tree's trunk as if to say "Thank you." From the corner of her eye she realized Emmett's presence underneath her. She liked Emmett, sure, she was confused as to why him and Tillie were so back and forth all the time. Regardless, she enjoyed being around him, though his sudden appearance startled her slightly.

"Oh!" Eve yelped abruptly. "I wasn't, you know," stumbling over her words, embarrassed at the possibility of him thinking she was being lewd. "I was just," she motioned to the tree, "expressing my, gra..titude?" To the tree? Her cheeks began to heat up again. "I wasn't being, y'know, weird." Eve locked her eyes down at her shoes, wishing she could just disappear.

Out of all of the people in his Advanced French course, the person he suspected the least of showing any sort of enthusiasm was Tillie’s roommate, Eve. Though he personally only interacted with her once, he, of course, heard some trite things about her from Tillie. And her pushback in class further convinced Dae that any sort of mention of witchcraft would be far too sacrilegious and blasphemous for young Eve Hansen. So surprise washed over his features when she actually showed up at Joe’s. Especially since he hadn’t directly invited her because of how she reacted in class. With how skeptical he already was, he wasn’t sure that being around someone who wasn’t fully buying into the idea would help ease his apprehensions.

When she approached the booth, Dae moved to clear his books from the opposite side of the table. He carefully tucked his sheet of questions underneath his philosophy text, certain her wandering eyes would see the book and stop looking there. In his mind, philosophy and theology majors were different sides of the same coin—philosophy as an almost radical skepticism toward whatever “divine revelations” theology majors sought comfort out of.

Popping a piece of pink chewing gum into her mouth, Eve sighed and looked around the diner. Everyone seemed to be in their own little worlds, including her. She crossed her legs at the ankles and swung them absentmindedly, silently judging. Unintentionally rude, but the uneasiness in her wasn't settling.

In her mind, the answers to today's revelations were quite obvious - their teacher was undoubtedly suffering from a mental lapse, or maybe his house was infested with mold. A family from her town suffered from that same affliction when she was young - they started challenging the church, and ultimately were asked to leave. Maybe he'd been practicing 'magic' tricks, like pulling a rabbit out of his hat - anyone with a brain knew that they were just tricks of the mind, optical illusions.

Her shifted eyes back on the other and she leaned forward - hardly closing the space between them. It was mostly for dramatic effect. "I think everyone has lost their minds." She stated, her tone matter-of fact. Why was everyone acting like this is the first time something that seemed unexplainable could be explained by something simple.

Noting the books on the table, she reached for Dae's philosophy textbook while listening to his question. Her curiosity getting the best of her. "Aside from Tillie, who's almost always weird, and our teacher shoving his hand in my mouth at the dance," she popped her gum on her tongue and let out a long winded sigh. "I'd say that we're dealing with a classic case of hysteria, thoughts?"