darling, won't you take me home?
chapter three: give me back what's mine
"Your new roommate is a serial killer?"
Gwen snorts, then throws a fry right at Peter's forehead from across the table. "That's not what I said! She's just, like⦠theatric. And intense."
Peter plucks up the french fry from the tabletop and pops it in his mouth, squinting at her. "You've only had one conversation with her," he points out. "How much happened in the hour you were at your dorm for you to think she's a serial killer?"
"I didn't say that she's a serial killer!" Gwen says, exasperated. "I just⦠I don't know, man. Maybe I'm just overthinking it now that I picked my major and my brain is in, like, detective mode, or something. I got some kind of vibes from her."
Peter squints harder. "Were they gay vibes?"
Gwen rolls her eyes so hard that Peter can't help but wonder if it's physically painful. "No," she sighs.
"Are you sure?" he asks. She throws another fry at himβthis one he ducks down to catch in his mouth, and then grins at her when she laughs. "Okay, so no gay vibes," he amends. "What do you mean by theatric, though? Like, literally? Is she a theater major?" He falters, then frowns and asks, "Does ESU even have theater majors?"
