She's a girl who remembers, and he's a boy who forgot.
Danny Rainier, Elise Rainier's granddaughter, a teenage girl whose starting her first year at liberal arts school, the same one Dalton Lambert.
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Hooters and weird confessions
I'm headed back to mine and Daltons room after spending an hour trying to make my way through the hoards and sororities to get to the housing office, and then another hour waiting to talk to them. So yes, mine and Daltons room.
After these long two hours the answer I got was practically the same as what I said to Dalton, they don't care. Plus pretty much all the other rooms are full.
I make my way to the top of the stairs and suddenly hear some sort of song, or music, or noise.
"Hey um, can I get behind you?" I ask pointing to my door she's stood in front of.
"Oh, sure. Sorry." I smile at her as I put my keys in the door.
"How come you're on the guy's floor?" The girl asks me.
"They put me in a guy's room. Guess they thought I was one. My names Danny." I tell her.
"No kidding, me too. I'm Chris." She smiles and swings her little piano thing over her shoulder, stretching out her hand for me to shake. I take it as she continues, "Sorry, about this," she gestures to the keyboard, "I was playing in my room, but my roommate, he kicked me out. So now I'm playing right outside our room." I laugh before opening the door.
"You wanna come in? Get out of the hallway and still piss off your roommate?" Chris chuckles before stepping into my room.
"Ah, art students." She nods, looking around at the drawings both Dalton and I have around our room.
This is the first time I've actually seen Dalton's drawings. I sigh as I notice some of them, the people in them the same as the ones I've been seeing in my visions and nightmares recently.
I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear Chris' voice from behind me,
"You wanna blow my hooter?"
"Excuse me?" I ask as I whip my head around.
"I'll take that as a no." She laughs as she holds up her keyboard, or I guess her hooter, and starts to blow into it and play something that holds somewhat resemblance to Shania Twain.
