Ramona feels a little better now that she has a considerable amount of alcohol in her. Better - emotionally? No, not quite. But less anxious, anyway, and that's almost like being less sad. She definitely doesn't feel better physically. In fact, she thinks it'd probably be a pretty bad idea to try flying like this, even if it has been a surprisingly easy skill to pick up.
She's caught a few glimpses of Mary Grace around the party, and that always sours her mood. Especially because - keen as she is, and as well as she thought she knew Mary Grace once - she's noticed the other girl seems a little on-edge. More on-edge than usual, anyway. It bothers her, a little nagging thought at the back of her head - go see if she's okay, go see if she wants to talk. Ramona can't get it to go away.
Deciding to pursue Mary Grace had been a fraught, drawn-out process on her part. She'd agonized for months before she'd mad a move. And what good had all that fretting and overthinking done her in the end? Maybe she'd been going about it the wrong way. And maybe it's time to just move on and try something new. She does a quick appraisal of which classmates are in the cafe, and exercising as little thought as humanly possible, she stands to approach one of them.
"Hey." She crosses her arms over her chest, but then uncrosses them promptly. She doesn't want to seem standoffish. "Do you want to make out with me? It's for an experiment." It takes her approximately three seconds to regret this decision, and she stares at her shoes while she waits for a response.
Ramona & OPEN to one girl*
She's caught a few glimpses of Mary Grace around the party, and that always sours her mood. Especially because - keen as she is, and as well as she thought she knew Mary Grace once - she's noticed the other girl seems a little on-edge. More on-edge than usual, anyway. It bothers her, a little nagging thought at the back of her head - go see if she's okay, go see if she wants to talk. Ramona can't get it to go away.
Deciding to pursue Mary Grace had been a fraught, drawn-out process on her part. She'd agonized for months before she'd mad a move. And what good had all that fretting and overthinking done her in the end? Maybe she'd been going about it the wrong way. And maybe it's time to just move on and try something new. She does a quick appraisal of which classmates are in the cafe, and exercising as little thought as humanly possible, she stands to approach one of them.
"Hey." She crosses her arms over her chest, but then uncrosses them promptly. She doesn't want to seem standoffish. "Do you want to make out with me? It's for an experiment." It takes her approximately three seconds to regret this decision, and she stares at her shoes while she waits for a response.