It's weirdly unsettling to be back on solid ground—or maybe it just feels that way because Presley is kind of, sort of, maybe drunk, and was leaning on the shoulder of one of his roommates as they make their way back to Wildgulch. Tipsy or not, he'd very much like to crash into his own bed right now, but sees the other juniors automatically heading off to the same dorm.
"Aren't we getting too old to keep doing this?" asks Presley (seventeen years old for almost an entire month now).
"Is Des crying about his teddy bear again?" Mary Grace more or less slurs, bumping into Presley from behind. She didn't expect there to be a traffic jam here.
Wyatt is in no way kind of, sort of, maybe drunk. He is abso-fuckin-lutely drunk. He bobbles along behind Presley, and his first attempt at a reply is incomprehensible with a slightly pouty tone. There might have been the word 'spoon' in there. When Mary Grace bumps into Presley, Wyatt bumps into her and makes a noise of protest. "Big bed sleep," he demands.
Uriah weaves through the crowd of his fellow Wildgulches. He links his arm through Presley's, because he seems like the least likely to fall over upon contact. "Oh, Elvis, don't be cruel," he croons, which quickly dissolves into a drunken giggle. "You heard the man, big bed sleep!"
Presley's personal defenses are always a few inches lower when he's inebriated, but he will never be drunk enough to find Uriah's nicknames amusing. He pulls his arm out of Uriah's hold, and shoves him into the other Wildgulches.
"Call me that again and we'll see how cruel I can be."
Felicity attempts to catch Uriah. But she's drunk too, so when she wraps her arms around him to steady him, she instead topples over and accidecanlly pulls him down with her. Luckily, they land safely on the big bed.
"Big! Bed!" she over-annunciates, the ceiling of the room spinning above her. "Everyone in!"
Presley leans against the door frame and watches his idiot friends fall all over each other into a big cuddle pile, as though they're all children and not, like, practically seniors.
"Are none of you going to brush your teeth?" he complains. "Or at least put on a face mask before you wake up all dry and scaly."
"Ohhhh, spa night, " Mary Grace says, eyes wide, and she grabs the nearest junior whintosser by the shoulders, a little too hard. "We have to have a SPA night."
Felicity tears up, way too drunk. "We have to," she repeats. Spa night is now the most important thing in the world. She looks to everyone else, "We have to."
Mary Grace sucks in through her teeth, squares her shoulders, and puts her game face on. "Don't worry babies," she announces to the group. "I'll get you spaghetti."
And wobbly and drunk as she is, the determined Mary Grace turns away from her friends and walks right out the door, presumably to go get them spaghetti.
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peckenpaugh2019-11-22 11:32 am
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
"Aren't we getting too old to keep doing this?" asks Presley (seventeen years old for almost an entire month now).
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
"Call me that again and we'll see how cruel I can be."
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
"There's no room for negavivity in the big bed, boys."
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
"Big! Bed!" she over-annunciates, the ceiling of the room spinning above her. "Everyone in!"
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
"Are none of you going to brush your teeth?" he complains. "Or at least put on a face mask before you wake up all dry and scaly."
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
Wildgulch Juniors Return to Big Bed
And wobbly and drunk as she is, the determined Mary Grace turns away from her friends and walks right out the door, presumably to go get them spaghetti.