4 || Sound Reasons

(song: "Soulmate" - Mac Miller)

"You are officially a horrible human-being. I warned you about joining the cult of the femmebot society, but do you listen to me? Of course you don't."

Connie scolded London as she paced the room wearing a fuzzy gray bathrobe and bunny slippers. Her hair was piled into a messy bun on-top of her head, and her team spirit shirt was visibly stained with spicy ramen noodle soup.

"You don't even question why you were given this kind of task instead of something with actual substance to it, like maybe reading to orphans or making cat toys for an animal shelter?" Connie continued.

"Look, I know it sounds horrible, and you are a-hundred-percent right; I should have asked questions, I should have wondered! I guess I didn't care, it sounded like a harmless task, just a few dates with a guy and get his sweater then I'd be set for life. You have no idea how important getting into this sorority is for me!" London whined and rolled against the surface of her bed.

Connie's side of the room was filled with various study materials. London felt a little jealous.

Connie could control her failure or success by studying, that wasn't the case for London.

"I'm not going into a field where good grades and graduating will help my career!" London admitted with frustration. "I'm going into a field where who you know is what matters. My mom works so hard as a waitress and she spent everything she could to get me here. She is in debt because of me and I owe it to her to make back everything she's lost as quickly as I can. So if that means that I have to dump a guy to get there, then yes, I guess I'll do that."

Connie scoffed and turned her back on London. She settled into her computer chair and stared intently at a screen of text to busy herself. Her fingers loudly ran across her keyboard and after a minute the noise came to a halt and she said, "You want to know something funny? You complain a lot about Paris, but the two of you are more alike than you know."

That was probably the worst thing Connie could have said to her. London stuffed a green canvas bag with clothes and books in an angry huff.

"What are you doing?" Connie asked.

"I'm not staying here tonight," London said while she soundly zipped the bag closed.

Connie looked concerned for her. "You don't have money, where are you going to go?"

"Why should you care if you think I'm such a horrible person?" London snapped and then realized that maybe Connie didn't deserve it. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap like that it's just—never mind, I'll see you tomorrow. . ."

The minute the door closed she instantly was filled with regret. She really had no where to go, and no one to rely on. Why hadn't she worked harder to socialize with more people on campus than simply her roommate? She couldn't call her mother and worry her.

She sat outside on the university steps staring at the bag in her lap.

"London?"

Great, the one person she didn't want to see.

Paris stood dressed beautifully in a black dress with her hair down and red lip-stick. A small clutch was in her hand which could only mean she must have had a date. Girls never take clutches unless they plan to go out with a guy.

London groaned. "Paris, can you just do me a favor and just ignore me? You don't have to say something every-time we cross paths."

Paris nodded slowly, pretending to understand. "True, but it's just my damn kind nature you know? My mother raised me to be a good Catholic and to always offer my assistance to others."

"Sadly, she didn't teach you not to steal other peoples boyfriends." Could London have possibly sounded more bitter?

It was Paris's turn to groan. "I didn't steal them, London!"

"Trevor McKinney. . .he was the first boy to ever kiss me. I confessed to you how much it meant to me. You cheered me on, then I found out from Amy that you kissed him two weeks later. How is that not stealing?"

Paris shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, and I admitted I was wrong and you forgave me and we moved passed that."

"But then it happened again, and again. It shouldn't keep happening, Paris. Don't you get that?"

"So, we have the same taste in guys. We're alike, that's why we became friends in the first place."

London stood tall enough to tower over Paris again. It was just a way for her to emphasize exactly how different the two of them were, physically and mentally. "I would never destroy a relationship my friend was in simply because I had feelings for the guy too."

Paris stared back into London's eyes and there was something unreadable in her gaze. "I don't have time for this I have a date."

London released a laugh of irony. "Right, because you're always dropping me for a guy."

"It's not even a real date, it's going out with Dean. . ."

London felt a sting within her chest.

"Oh. . ." She said.

Paris looked guilty, almost remorseful, but after a minute she let that expression pass. "Just thought I should let you know. It's nothing personal, but I'm going to do whatever it takes to get into the sorority."

"Same here," London said with her teeth grit.

Paris hugged her coat against her lovely frame and walked away with the elegance of a model. Paris was the city of love and art, London was the city of what? A giant clock tower and cod fish with chips? The comparison of the locations to their personalities was so real it was scary. So, London couldn't really blame Dean if he'd fallen for Paris's beauty and charm, but dammit, she did think less of him for it.

He was shallow if he liked Paris, he was just like all the other boys, he was also—

"London?"

—right in front of her. . .

"Dean?" London said with total surprise.

Dean looked completely different from the way she'd seen him dress in school. He had on an army patterned parka and a sports hoodie beneath it. He didn't have his glasses on and his black beanie had the face of a panda-bear on it. He was dress—well—kind of in a similar style to London.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Star-gazing?" She lied, but knew how transparent it was.

Dean smiled. God, she found his smile more attractive by the second. "You can't see stars in the city and what's with the duffle-bag?" He questioned.

She tried to sling the bag strap over her shoulder. The bag was heavier than she remembered it being. "Would you believe me if I said that it's full of provisions and equipment for a fruitless night of star-gazing?"

Dean twisted his lips to the side thoughtfully and reached out to take her bag from her.

"Hey that's mine! Give it back." London protested, but only with half a heart. The bag was heavy, and it really was nice for someone else to be holding it.

"I was going to treat you to a pizza, but if you don't want to eat with me you can have your bag back." He said.

London inhaled deeply and held her breath for a moment. She could hear Paris's words replaying in her head about them having a date. "Don't you have somewhere to be. . .like maybe a date or something?"

"Why would you think that?" He asked with a genuinely oblivious expression.

"Well, I don't know. . .it's a weekend, you're a good-looking guy so yeah. . ." Her voice trailed; she couldn't tell Dean that she knew Paris. It'd ruin both their chances of being accepted into the sorority.

He shook his head. "The only thing I had to do tonight was return a book to some stupid girl who mixed up her book with mine."

Paris didn't have a date with Dean; she had mixed up their books on purpose in order to try and get a date from Dean. So if they weren't going out, and Dean was asking her to have pizza, did that mean that. . .Dean preferred spending time with London over Paris?

"So, pizza? Yes, no? Don't leave a guy hanging here." His voice was wonderfully raspy.

"Yes, I say yes." She agreed with a small smile.

"Good. So, I'll carry your bag," he insisted while they walked together.

London stared at her feet and mumbled out a "Thanks."

Dean laughed, it was warm and pleasant. "You're so awkward around me."

She scoffed a little and gave his arm a light push. "No, I'm not."

He returned the gesture with a nudge of his shoulder against hers. "Yes, you are."

Her breaths felt suddenly, much faster. She studied his profile as he watched the sidewalk ahead of them. He was still mysterious to her, a total enigma. "Can I asked you something?"

"Sure," he said eagerly.

"Why do you want to spend time with me? I mean, I've heard classmates say that you keep to yourself and don't socialize. It's not like I've been the best company for you to be around either, so why me?"

"Because you don't know me and I don't know you, but I want to know you and for you to know me." With his final words Dean locked eye-contact with her.

"What if I'm not what you think I am?" Her voice was small and unsure.

Dean's eyes observed her like a biologist staring into a microscope. "What if the same goes for me?"

"Then I guess we're both in for a surprise."

"Yeah, I guess we are," he said as they both mutually shared a smile.

The two of them headed towards Tony's Pizzeria, it was rumored to have the best pizza near the campus. While they walked, things were silent again, but it wasn't uncomfortable this time.

He broke the silence by playfully nudging her arm which earned a laugh from her. She swatted gently at him and he retaliated before standing much closer to her. London could feel his upper arm brush against her and the pulse of energy between them; that surge of electricity from an attraction to someone.

It was exactly the sort of thing she didn't want to feel.

She was attracted to him, he wasn't even her type, but every-time his eyes looked in her direction or his arm collided with her she felt it.

Internally, London told herself—no matter what—she couldn't ever develop feelings for Dean. They weren't destined to be together, they were destined for tragedy and she was destined to cause it. . .











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