#monty06

There were very few people Cara was willing to talk about Greer with. The list, in fact, extended to...well, no one. Not fully, at least. But Monty had always managed to be on the list of a broader sort, one of few that would at least be on her side with things. And after the...unfortunate breakdown he witnessed, Cara wasn't about to bring someone else into the loop of her and her fucked up emotions regarding her sister. No, Monty got to deal with all this now.

Waiting for him to arrive, Cara was sprawled into an armchair in her dorm room, legs dangling over one of the arms and head hanging over the other as she smoked, vaguely blowing the smoke towards the direction of the cracked window - not that she really cared much. Finally, she heard a knock on her door, Cara calling for Monty (she hoped) to enter, tipping her head backwards even further to set her eyes on him before she offered a crooked smirk in greeting. "Hi," she said before straightening up. "Thanks for coming," she said, sarcasm coating her words.

Nate nodded in greeting at Monty, his chin lifting up as he saw the other scholarship student. He hadn't seen him yet this year, the past two weeks having been...busy - he had been fighting more, the faintest shading of a bruise visible under his scruff for anyone who looked closely. But realistically, it was probably mostly because he had a handful of things that had made the trip to campus with him after being leftover from the summer, so he hadn't had to seek out Monty yet. "Like the hair, mate," he said, genuine in his compliment of the long hair. "Good summer?"

The curl to Sassa’s lips was positively wicked as she approached the bench where she had discarded her bag before practice, Monty - in his new position as team equipment manager - sitting next to it. "Decided to fill out your resume a bit?" she said, her chin tucking downward slightly, all the better to flutter her eyelashes at Monty in an attempt at innocence, despite the stark contrast with the amusement of her smirk. She took one of her towels - a crisp white one, as Sassa kept everything for her tennis (she was a traditionalist, at least in that sense) - to use for her sweat, watching Monty with an inscrutable look as she dabbed it at her hairline. It was mostly facetious, though she was sweating - she had not practiced as much as she should've over the summer - Sassa drawing it down her neck and over her collarbones next, before she got to the crux of this entire performance, the now damp towel held out towards Monty. "How lucky for us," she said, motioning to the court, as if gesturing to the team.

Mari stopped paying attention when Monty spun the bottle - there was no way that the universe could be that cruel to her. So it took a moment for it to register that that was exactly what happened, Mari looking towards the center of the circle when the friend she was next to nudge her, a small noise of protest lodging itself in her throat. “Please, you totally should get a re-spins if it lands on an ex,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal, figuring everyone could get on board with that. Well, judging from people’s reactions, that was not the case - they’d be on board when it was their turn, Mari was sure, but someone else? Just an opportune moment for some drama to happen, which was what everyone was angling for.