Pretend Press
She opens her new folder and is a little disappointed to not see Dicks face.
She wonders what it says on his picture.
Dick Casablancas
Surfing and easy women
Business
California
He was in business right?
But then again some Theta wrote it, it probably was more detailed, god she hoped he'd done something embarrassing that they put on the back of his picture,
Dick Casablancas
Married for two days in Vegas
Business?
California
She hoped it said that in this stupid girlie looping handwriting with the i's dotted with hearts.
Bandit
Tequila and smart girls
Pre-med
Kansas
Pre-med?
From everything she'd heard about Bandit she'd rather take a knife to herself than let him anywhere near her. She'd seem him at a couple parties before, he had that too rich for this air to him, an I'm too rich to care about what i'm doing entitlement and she was absolutely positive that he didn't give a fuck about being a doctor.
Not that it really mattered she was pretty sure she could totally pull off tequila and smart girls so there was that at least.
"Who did you get?" Veronica asks excitedly and reaches out for her envelope.
She stuffs Bandit's picture back in and hands it to her. Sitting down at the table, setting her pink plastic gun on the tabletop next to the no doubt irished coffee Veronica had gotten for her.
"There are two other photos in here Mac." She observes with a look of confusion on her face.
"There are." She's not sure why Veronica is so surprised. She had to have done research first to see which of the few girlfriends she had would best suit her needs.
She had to know about the gun range membership hiding behind her blockbuster card.
Then again maybe Veronica just thought she'd needed the money most.
"Did you kill these people already?"
"Mary-lou was on the way." she shrugs like it isn't a big deal. Like she hadn't popped her one from almost a block away, with an audience.
"And Adam?" She asks flashing his picture.
She leans over and flips his picture over so Veronica can read his weakness.
"What did you do? Trip and spill your papers all over?"
"Ya." She looks down at the tabletop she may actually feel a little bad about Adam. He had been nice and sweet.
"What's the matter?"
"He basically asked me to the social."
"What social?"
She shrugs, "I don't know it's the greek system I figured there must be a social coming up, and apparently there is, but I don't have to worry because someone would totally ask me."
Veronica bursts out laughing and she can feel the blood rush to her face.
"Oh god that's priceless. I bet he asked Dick what your favourite colour was and everything."
If Adam had said anything to Dick it hadn't made an impression on him. Her shot however seemed to.
Not that she could blame him as far as he knew, as far as anyone but the a few people at the gun range and a certain dead boyfriend knew she'd never picked up a gun in her life.
"So who did you get?"
"Some boy named Freddie whose got football practice in about twenty and a weakness for talking about himself." Veronica pulls her camera and a notepad out of her bag.
"So your going to pretend your the press?"
"Course I am." She pulls a black wig out of her bag as well and it's smart, Chip has a hate on for Veronica so the moment he found out she was a ringer he probably showed every player her picture, "I had been worried about how you were doing but if I'd known you were such a commando I wouldn't have bothered." She smiles brightly at her and with a rushed goodbye leaves to find her self absorbed target.
If she knew why she was such a commando maybe she'd still be worried.
She picks her gun up off the table, its too light and feels wrong in her hands maybe she'd tape some batteries to it or something.
Sweet little Cindy's a sharpshooter. Who knew.
She bites the inside of her mouth to make his voice go away. The worst parts are when she can feel his hands on hers as she aims. Actually the worst part is it isn't always that she feels him on her hands.
He had loved the fact that she could shoot. She'd played it off as beginners luck and years of duck hunt but he had none of it. He'd told her she had a natural talent and then he'd gotten all the way to the up till then completely foreign third base, pressing her against the booth. She should have known then that something was wrong with her perfect sweet, smart boyfriend but she'd just been glad to see third.
He would have been proud of her and it turned her stomach. Her Mary-lou shot had been good it was something to be proud of and from the look of Dicks face he agreed.
She flops down onto the table and wishes this was over. Maybe she would just go to the quad and wait for someone to shoot her. Sure she needed the money but she didn't think she could stand the memories of Cassidy flooding to the foreground much longer.