platonic- having a close relationship in which there is no romance
that's what luke and rose were for years- best friends who would rather give up an organ before thinking about kissing one another.
until one day, the thought doesn't sound so terri...
"And I cannot be changed, I cannot be changed, no Trust me, I've tried I just end up right at the start of the line Drawin' circles"
Song- "Circles" by Mac Miller _______________
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"A fucking sixty-two," Marley spitefully spits out as she walks over to the picnic table and slams her literature essay down on it.
Rose and Taylor both flinch on the other side of the table and look to each other questioningly, raising eyebrows before looking back to their friend. Marley huffs as she climbs onto the bench of the table, careful in her plaid skirt, joining them with a frown from her annoyance.
"What?" Rose questions as she places down her pencil from doing a sketch, leaning forward on the table so she can reach over and grab Marley's assignment.
Her deep brown eyes immediately zone in on the red ink at the top, an F is circled in a harsh way to bring emphasis to the doomed grade. She flips through the essay, lightly skimming Marley's work so she can see for herself what's wrong.
"I thought you said Herron was an easy professor," Marley gripes as she frustratingly rubs at her temples, "nothing about his grading is easy."
"What assignment is this for?" Rose asks as she turns the pages back to the front side and places it back down in front of her friend.
"Analysis of your favorite poem," Marley shrugs and crosses her arms over the table.
"Oh," Rose slowly nods, her eyes flashing with a hint of memory from doing the assignment the last semester, "yeah, we did that, too"
"And what'd you get?" Marley raises a brow at Rose.
Rose shrinks a little in her seat, scared to say her grade after Marley's explosion, "A ninety-four."
Marley throws her hands up and lets out a sarcastic laugh, "Of-fucking-course that's what you got, I forgot you're like a genius when it comes to literature."
Rose laughs it off and shakes her head, "M'not a genius, I just like poetry. Plus, I don't wait till an hour before it's due like you do."
Marley makes a face and then shrugs, "True, but procrastination is all I know."
"I'm the same way," Taylor chirps in and Marley playfully salutes him, "I don't turn in assignments two weeks before they're due like Rose does."
"I like to be ahead of the game, sue me," Rose rolls her eyes at them and goes back to sketching in her notebook.
It's a little past noon on a Tuesday, the sun is making its way up the curve of the earth and shining brightly past a few fluffy clouds. It's a rare pretty spring day, the air isn't too hot or too cold, and no rain threatens the forecast to scare away anyone who wants to study out in the courtyard.
