#12 kisses on the corner of their mouth
"Michelle," Ned says, "this is awesome. Specifically in that way people in psychological thrillers fall apart at the seams and go overboard awesome. Are you turning into the morally grey main character of a psychological thriller?"
"Oh, God," Michelle groans, and hides her face in her hands. "This was a bad idea."
"I mean ... it is very thorough," says Cindy. She's visiting from MIT's Dorm B; Betty is on video call because this was supposed to be a girls' night, even though Ned is also here, using her desk because his has been unilaterally overtaken by his could-be-a-serial-killer-roommate, but now. Now. Michelle's Wall has been discovered.
Or rather, Michelle spilled the beans to Betty while Cindy was in the bathroom, and Betty can't keep a secret to save her life.
Michelle gestures wildly to the corkboard of newsclippings, red string, scribbled highlighter and one very blurry cryptic photo of a guy crossing the street in the snow, which was until very recently hidden behind the clothes rack they use to make up for zero closet space.
"I'm not insane, okay! Let's just drop it."
"No, no no no," says FaceTime Betty practically. "This is good stuff. This is real stuff. Have you talked to a psychic? I really think that could help."
"He like, comes to the ice cream place, right?" says Ned, obviously, over his Eng 101 notes. "We work there every break. Just ask him what his name is."
"No," hisses Michelle, thinking of Ned's roommate. "No. I'm not a weird serial killer, Ned. I need to figure this out before I make contact."
"Uh, MJ," Ned says, "you've already made contact. Dude comes in every Friday and gets the same coffee order to go."
"Aaargh!" Michelle fists her hands in her hair. "I know! I know, and it's killing me because I feel like an insane person but I swear I've met him somewhere before!"
Only an insane person would have very lucid dreams about sitting atop buildings with the nameless guy who gets coffee at the sad Sugar and Scoops Michelle and Ned work at whenever they go back to New York. Only an insane person, Michelle maintains somewhat hysterically and in the privacy of her own mind, would feel very strongly, in like, the marrow of her proverbial bones or whatever, that she knows what it feels like to kiss this guy on the corner of the mouth.
Not even the middle! The corner! Who has dejavu about mouth corners?
As if reading her mind, Betty says, considering the muppet-like figure in the cryptid photo, "Y'know, hes kinda cute."
"Oh, definitely super kissable," says Cindy, with characteristic verve.
"You should ask him out Michelle."
Michelle walks the two steps to the pitiful mattress Dorm A rooms call beds and covers her face with a pillow.
"Hypothesis," Ned offers, after a moment of silence, "He looks like a Pedro. Don't you think?"
"Seriously?" says FaceTime Betty. "You want our Michelle to be having prophetic dreams -- possibly of the sexual nature --"
"Betty!" cries Cindy, with once more characteristic reproach,
"-- about a boy named Pedro?"
"What? Some people are called Pedro, Betty."
Michelle clutches the pillow tighter to her face and screams.
