[. homicidal toe socks .]
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- Posted: Sun, 23 Sep 2012 01:37:59 +0000
- xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx[ beach attire ] xxxx [ thinking ] xxxx [ porch of manor ] xxxx [ Stefan]
♠ White sand swallowed Stella's toes as they dug into the grain. Men carrying luggage were moving by her in a hurry. She spotted one of the crew members from her own ship, carrying two of her bags and gave a half smile and wave before turning her gaze back to the manor. It really fit the image of an island getaway. It wasn't far off now and from this distance she could see the windows that took up entire walls, balconies, and a single chandelier, large and glistening, hanging in the main hallway behind large bay windows. Was she dreaming? This seemed more like a dreamhouse than something the school came up with. She was going to have to figure out who planned this trip. They obiously knew what to look for. It obviously wasn't her math or english teacher from any year. Only one of them would have been remotely close to be able to pick something like this, and she was too much of a partier to worry about something like this. That was an interesting math class her sophomore year.
Someone moved past her quickly as she exhaled smoke and she barely gave the male a glance. It was Stefan. Well, it was to be expected that he would go running from the flirtatious vixen known as Alexandria. The female was probably a little forward for his tastes. If she had to guess, judging from his reputation, he would probably be more fitted with a smart girl, who preferred her nose in a book than conversing with hunks about rubbing her down with oils. Probably a quaint little girl who was pretty, but hid her true beauty because of her studious nature. A soft spoken and kind girl. Why was she even thinking about this? She didn't even care. Well, she did like to guess things like this in case she was right. Since senior year was over, she would probably never know if she was right on the money or not. That was a shame. She could have even run a bet on it and got some extra cash for fun. Ah well.
The large porch was relatively empty. A few benches along with round tables and chairs were seated so that people could sip their drinks outside and view the ocean. It seemed Stefan had decided to take a seat at one of these benches, out of the way of the men and women moving luggage inside of the manor. When he gave a sudden wave, Stella cast her gaze down to the ocean front. Fiona had arrived. Of all the people in their school, Fiona Farchild was one of the very few Stella considered a friend. Seeing as they had been together since middleschool, it seemed normal. Hell, the girl was hard not to trust. A true good girl with a good heart. If she had a dark side, Stella had yet to see it. Not that she didn't watch for hints of it, just in case. Stella had come to accept that she was a good person, and had decided to label her as a friend. Her eyes wandered back to Stefan, then back down to the beach. Fiona and Stefan were friends. Thoughts milled around in her head before she tapped her chin thoughtfully. Fiona was a good, studious girl. She turned thoughtful eyes to Stefan once more before taking one last hit of her cigarette and flicking it out into the sand. Well, Stella wasn't one to meddle in the affairs of others without some sort of gain, but she could do some watching on this to see where it could go. If Fiona had any interest, then she work from there. Wasn't helping a friend rewarding in itself?
However. . . She took a seat at a table near Stefan and folded her arms on the table, eyes cast out at the ocean before she turned in her seat to face him. "Stefan," she started, not really sure where to go from there. What was she wanting to know exactly? Asking what kind of girl he liked would be weird, but she needed something to work with. Then again, knowing for sure what kind of girl he liked would ruin the fun of guessing. Game over then. Also, if she asked if he had a girlfriend before, knowing the girl could in turn tell her what kind of girl it is that he is interested in. She could ask if he liked someone, but what if he was one of those gushers who spilled his guts to complete strangers and then he spilled who it was? That would be annoing. Damn it. In the end she leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms over her head before throwing off the whole conversation with a lazy smile. "Nice to see ya again," she finished with and turned her attention back to her approaching friend. Well, it was better than nothing. This would all have to be done secretly. ♠