"You can't ruin someone's day just by being in it," he murmured to himself.
"Normal people don't feel bad when they come out on the other side of the subway than they're used to. They don't feel like they're betraying the normal smoke shop that they go to when they buy a $10 indica pre-roll and a $1 plastic red lighter from the smoke shop closer to this side of the subway. In fact, they think that's cool!" he was pacing in front of the brownstone at this point. People were walking past, slowing their pace to eavesdrop on him for an extra two seconds at a time.
"Normal people don't feel bad when they get to somebody's house 10 minutes early for movie night, they just walk around the block until they're 15 minutes late." He immediately started walking around the block but just as quickly ran into Carter, three paces ahead, with a backpack full of groceries.
"Drew!" his date said, "You're early."
"Sor-"
"Don't be sorry!"
"Okay, sorry, yeah, no I'm not, uh, fuck you," Drew murmured.
"What?"
"Nothing. Fuck you."
"Okay," Carter laughed.
"I brought weed."
The two moved inside and Carter kicked his roommates out, played The Roches' self-titled album, and made a bag of frozen pasta. "Should we watch a horror movie? I love when they kill each other."
Absolutely not. Normal people don't watch horror movies and they feel completely normal about that and all of their friends support that decision. They're called horror movies, they are trying to scare you, yet god forbid you be scared by them? How dare you set a boundary?! No. It's alright to set boundaries. Why not watch something funny? Everybody likes something funny. Or cool. Action. "Um... which one?" Drew said.
"Maybe Halloween?"
"It's March."
"You're so funny."
Absolutely not. "Uh... sure, I gue- yeah." Drew pulled up the Wikipedia synopsis of the movie to avoid any surprises. They were on the couch, and it wasn't the most comfortable couch, but it was small, so they had to sit close.
Kyle Richards run for your life.
"Wait, is your nose bleeding?" Carter asked, pausing the movie.
Finally. Ever since he was a kid, Drew was able to work himself up to the point of a nosebleed. It used to require much more thrashing of his arms, but he's since perfected the technique. It takes a lot of focus, admittedly 35 minutes' worth this time. Poor Jamie Lee Curtis. Frozen on the screen, nineteen years old, a child actor by all accounts.
"Do you have any tissues? I like the soft ones, like the ones with lotion in them somehow," Drew became cocky in spite of his current condition.
"Uh, sure," Carter said, "I have paper towels?"
Maybe this is ruining his day. I hope he still wants to make out with me. If we make out should I tell him that I faked the nosebleed or will he be mad at me? It's not like I manipulated him or anything. And I'm not ruining his day, I can't be. You can't do that. "You can't ruin someone's day just by being in it," he murmured to himself.
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