No Handlebars - Lynnie & Nico

Nohemy Lynn sat up in her bed as she set down her iPad, smiling at the Styrofoam box that lay on her red comforter, threatening to stain it with dark soy sauce. She sat criss-cross-apple-sauce for a few minutes as she debated what to change into. She’d gotten the habit of walking around her dorm au naturel, which was only bugging her because she always had to put her clothes back on. She settled on a Sublime t-shirt that was cut into a basketball jersey and some jeans.  She checked her hair before slipping into her rabbit flippers and walking out of her dorm to wait for Nico in the lobby.

She climbed down the stairs in that sardonic, flat footed manner of someone that so obviously would rather be in her own dorm than facing the people there. She’d come to notice that the performing arts majors were very interested in finding out everything about anyone and that really hit Nohemy in the shins. Why did so much matter? She felt that the only thing that should matter about a person is how well they can look and how well they can act. If their parents are dead and that person is a millionaire, so be it. It didn’t change the person at all. She got to the lobby and sat in one of the retro red dinner-esque chairs. Nohemy leaned forward and picked up a HUSTLE magazine, flipping through the pictures and looking at all the nice clothing she could get when she went home for vacations.