balloon person

Ugh, are you kidding me? 

Patrick shook his head, and frowned. 

What, do you want to have sex with them?

He rolled over, and sighed.

We're done, freak, done.

Patrick sat up, growling. He couldn't get the conversation with Lizzie out of his head. He'd tried to share his secret with her, hoping they could bring it into the bedroom. To be fair, she'd told him he wanted him to wear his leather jacket to bed...

Shannon took a bite of her granola bar as she flipped through the textbook, trying to focus.  Her roommate Margaret had left to eat dinner at the cafeteria, an invitation that Shannon declined.  She wasn't trying to be rude, it was just that, over the past week or so she had been feeling less and less hungry, with the feeling stopping altogether about two or three days ago.  Aside from that she felt perfectly fine - great, even - and in light of everything else that happened to her it barely even registered.

The alarm clock went off with a sound between a buzz and a beep, though considering how soundly Shannon had been sleeping it may as well been something between a record scratch and a screaming toddler.  She slapped the button, groaning as she sat up and rubbed her eyes before climbing out of bed, throwing on her robe and heading into the kitchen.

For her part Margaret was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, reading the newspaper. "Morning, Shannon.  Sleep well?"

The hotdog was starting to kick in. A second go on the dodgems held no appeal. She agreed to meet her friends by the ferris wheel when they were done, accepting care of their balloons without so much as a blush to betray her pleasure at receiving so many lofty charges, their upward tugging giving her tingles.

Meandering past the booths and stalls, she rounded a corner to be arrested by a strange tableau.