🔆 Resol 🔆

As far as post-test celebrations go, Anita's gotta consider this one pretty lackluster. Her friends have all bailed for one reason or another - work, writing reports, studying for yet another test - and now she's sitting at her big old circle table all alone, only her lukewarm caramel macchiato to keep her company. Still, she didn't come all this way to congratulate herself for making it through her first batch of midterms by being bored. Something's gotta give. 

Gaze flicking through the faces of the other patrons, she thinks she's finally found it in the order line. There's a man stuck midway, looking completely ridiculous with his slick hair and the way he just seems to tower over the undergrads he's stuck between in line. The awkward expression plastered on his face is just the icing on the cake.

Target spotted.

Shifting to get a better view, Anita tucks one leg under the other on the cushy bench and props her head up on the hand not leeching warmth from her coffee. After a moment of pointed staring, Anita begins her first round of attack - wrinkling her nose up and squinting at the stranger, trying to make her face as ridiculous as possible.