not ginny

“I could help.”

“Wait, really? Wait, please.”

“They haven’t. I’ve watched it all.”

“Who do you think your match is?”

“At this point, I feel like the world is my oyster--so, thank you--but, uh...god, there’s like...it’s weird because I’m like, ‘Damn, I wanna be with all these girls, but damn, that’s not very narrowed down,’ you know?”

“I feel an irrational amount of pride for someone who is probably going to get hate-crimed by his brothers.”

“I mean, you should be proud. I don’t think anyone on this show has ever done anything like that, and if your brothers threaten to hate-crime you, we can, like, run away or something, us and our matches.”

“Rory.” She answered almost before the question was over and laughed at how aggressively sure she was. Her know-it-all attitude was why she had never had any luck with dates.

“Was just looking for my bikini top and found it under a pillow.”

“Ooh, a pillow. We have quite the master of espionage on our hands.”

“I’m not sure I want to relive it.”

“That gory, huh? That’s alright.”

“Just –” Steph handed it over.

“Oh holy shit. How’d you get it? How’d you get it and come back in one piece?”

“Did you see that?”

“No, but I expect a vivid description.”

“Look what I found.”

“Oh my god, what is that?” Virginia jumped up and ran to Steph’s side.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Staying away from Chad.”

“Was I saying something?”

“Uh...you have baggage and siblings.”

“Huh. I showered an hour ago.”

“Okay, buddy.” She patted him on the back and wiped her hand on her jeans.

“Well, good, ‘cause I cannot allow myself to be ogled.”

“Neither can I. What a coincidence.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad. Is it?”

“Not at all. Anyways, you were saying?”