#* beverly.

they’re holiday sale shopping, bev rummaging through the macy’s sale rack. bingo. she holds a dress up to el.   ‘  this would look so cute on you.  ’ 

‘  will boys ever stop sucking?  ’  losers excluded. except when one (or more!!) of them likes her, which is so stupid, not to mention very inconvenient.  ‘  does it just go away in college or something?  ’

‘  see, i knew this haircut was cool. you must be cool, too.  ’  a hand is extended. bev marsh is ready to make a friend. and from the looks of it, the other girl might be, too.  ‘  i’m beverly.  ’

‘  i really liked your movie.  ’  the festival had been small, all accumulations of school projects. she’d gone to support a friend’s short, but really, bev had gone for the after party, the chance to be around creatives again.  ‘  it was beautiful.  ’

there’s an uncertain feeling of familiarity, clogging up her senses like tom’s overpriced cologne. she’s on business - alone, for once, but beverly marsh has never known how to be alone. what was his name. what was his name?  ‘  house. greg house, right?  ’

‘  hey, so, how did you and jo end up together?  ’

‘  nice action figures, rich.  ’