Internet dating the borderline

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I only pay attention to her, so I don’t notice or remember the party happening around us, except for the loud music and a few guys mimicking the brap-brap-brap-brap sound of a rotary engine.We talk or yell to each other about school and the classes we’re taking and she tells me that she’s excited to live at school because this is the first time in her life that she has the freedom to bring guys to her place or to go over to theirs. on a Sunday, an antsy teenager named Eddie Bronson hopped onto a discount shuttle bus from San Francisco during its midway pit stop in the city of Avenal. Back at the rest stop, a college student named Sebastian Chavez was on his way back to L. after visiting and getting dumped by his girlfriend Melanie in San Francisco. Just seven whole hours of sitting in silence, watching the drought-baked Central Californian wasteland crawl past the window – plenty of time to really think about what he had done. Satisfied, she walked back up to the front and started the engine. I was finally at ease after a trying break-up with my *FIRST* *SERIOUS* *BOYFRIEND*, and the events that followed served to shake up the pot once more. So he snuck on board, held his breath as the driver performed a quick head count, and closed his eyes in prayer as the bus pulled out of his dry, miserable hometown and trudged down the I-5 to Los Angeles. He grabbed his things and boarded the bus, his heart racing. The driver went down the aisle, counting the passengers in twos. Usually on Summer eve’s in Bay Area suburbia, though, that little something extra is a free mini-yogurt at Pinkberry with purchase of a red-velvet Sprinkles cupcake or a pop-up adults-only bluegrass festival in the park by the Starbucks.

In the meantime, he had brought nothing to keep himself entertained except his phone and a copy of The Odyssey, which he was too angry to read because of his current situation. He nodded, thanked her, and made his way back to the picnic tables. Sebastian counted each person as they stepped down onto the dusty concrete. “IEEEAAAAUOOOOOOO.” I peered into the darkness, and I could barely make out our female goat Spice (aptly named ), standing still. I blearily stumbled out of my room and almost ran into my mother, sprinting outside into the night with an armful of what looked to be goat-birthing supplies screaming “I TOLD YOU! ” My father and I grabbed some towels and a bucket of water and followed in pursuit.

I ask her why she couldn’t do all of that before, so we start talking about our parents and our home lives.

As she tells me about hers, I realize she’s cute, we’re really hitting it off, and her laugh is absolutely adorable.

“I wonder how someone can turn out to be that much of a sociopath.” Sebastian picked up a novelty California license plate that said “MELANIE” and stuffed it behind a shelf of disposable razors. Did he walk in on his parents flushing his pet goldfish down the toilet? Before long the second twin was born into the world without any complications, and Spice lovingly gazed upon her loved ones- and proceeded to lick them clean- a boy and a girl, Salt and Pepper.

It was a Thursday night, same as any other- hot and dry, with a little something extra in the air.

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