Free of her shoes, she kicked them to the side and sat on the spare bed, leaving a fine dust of glitter as she flopped down. She shrugged, the details were hazy.
"Fucked if I know" she said helpfully, deciding that sitting was much too boring and walking over to Ciaran's desk.
"Lesbians are emotional or something, right? Their periods are probably synced up" she joked, picking up a magazne and flicking through it uninterestedly. "I didn't know Sonnier's could scream like that, fucking nerds."
Ciaran lifted his head off the pillow. "Their periods are synched up?" he echoed, giving Mari a look that any sane person would give her at this point. Surely there had to be more to this random lesbian fight than that.
"Screaming? You're...not selling me on this party, Mari." He turned onto his side to get comfortable, keeping one eye on what she was nosing through. "...Is that my sketchbook?"
"Duh" she replied as if it was obvious. "Girls in close quarters all period at the same time. It's like, logical."
She looked back at him and showed him that it was just a magazine, but a smile spread across her face. "You have a sketchbook? Do you have a book of poems too?" She laughed and began looking on the desk.
"I know that, I just...nevermind." It wasn't worth correcting her. He didn't need to talk about blood that seeped out of places it really had no night seeping out of.
"It's for art class," he grumbled. "I don't write anything, I just draw."
Like that ginger girl who liked to read a lot...or that scared blonde chick from all of his classes...or Emilie...lots of Emilie...mostly naked Emilie...and like Molly...
Ciaran sat up and tried to remember where he'd put it down when he came back to his room.
"Liar" she challenged him, opening a few drawers and only finding socks (that would be covered in sparkles the next time they were worn).
"You know, people are going to really think you are a serial killer if you don't show up to social functions. What did you even like, do tonight?" Upon opening one drawer she looked back at him gleefully.
"I'm lying because Eastman nagged me to do some portrait work and I left it with her so that she could see what I'd done?" he shook his head and sighed. Why was he still lying down? Clearly sleep was not going to happen tonight, at least not until Marianne found someone else to bother/cover in glitter.
"Then I guess people are gonna think I'm a serial killer. I don't go to dances and shit. Not here."
Ciaran dragged himself out of bed and moved over to his desk, taking the can of hairspray from Marianne's hand. He'd been looking for that...
"Yes. Are you always this grumpy? Shit, it's like, the weekend and you're in bed. Alone."
She was still grinning at the hairspray and rooted around in the same drawer for anything else interesting. She was expecting to find a chapstick or something.
She walked over to his bedside table and opened the drawer there and peered in. "I don't usually go to bed" she admitted, grinning. There was a dog-eared photo resting under some stuff and she pulled it out, eyes growing wide. She recognised that girl from Facebook stalking.
"Holy crap, that's interesting" she laughed, turning away from Ciaran so he couldn't see what she was looking at.