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TWO WEEKS | GRIZZLY BEAR
PITCH THE BABY | COCTEAU TWINS
SO GOOD AT BEING IN TROUBLE | UNKNOWN MORTAL ORCHESTRA
NEW SONG | MÅNESKIN

London, England
April, 1983

"And after that, you just carry over the five and seven." His eyes follow the tip of his pencil while her eyes follow him, staring at the side of his face as if her life depended on it, although he doesn't say much about it, only about the troubling Calculus homework he was helping her out with. "Any other questions?" He asks, wondering if his attention turned toward her would shift her intense stare, but she only smiles and shakes her head.

"No." She grins, "Thank you for your help, Harry. I dunno what I'd do without it." She charmingly chuckles as he nods his head wordlessly and begins to put his things in his bag. His actions trigger her, causing her to speak up once more in order to keep his time and attention, and he knew it, but he let her talk anyway. "Umm—what are you doing this weekend? Have you given any thought about going to the dance?"

"No." He shakes his head, "I told you, Cindy. I'm not going to the dance." He says to her while slinging his bag over his shoulder, and without a second to waste, he makes his way toward the library exit and out to the hallway. She's hot on his heels, chasing after him with her school bag on her shoulder, although he's grown used to Cindy's antics and let's her make her case.

"Look, I see why you're a little . . . apprehensive toward going to the dance, but I think you need to reconsider." She begins and he can't keep himself from rolling his eyes with a shake of his head, "I mean, what are you gonna do that's any more fun than going to the dance, hm? Read a book? Stare at paint drying—"

"Now, you're just insulting me." His words come off as a joke, despite no laugh or smile accompanying his remark. She laughs melodically at his response, gently smacking his arm before rubbing his sleeve, and the affection has him wanting to squirm.

"C'mon, Harry, nothing good ever came out of staying at home all the time." She softly chuckles, "I'll make a deal with you?" She says, and instead of answering her question, he poses his own.

    "Why do you want me to come so badly anyway?" He can't keep himself from asking once reaching his locker, although he doesn't open it yet. There aren't many moments where his actions or words are directed right at her, where he looks to her for a response with a steady gaze and a pause of silence, but he is now, because it's a question he's had for some time and he wants an answer. "You have plenty of people to keep you company at the dance, Cindy, why must I come too?"

    "Do I have to have a reason?"

    "I know you have one." He says and turns to open his locker with a sigh, "If it's pity, then I suggest you stop wasting your time—"

    "I don't pity you, Harry, I just want to know you." Cindy replies, and almost immediately, he's replying with an edge to his voice.

    "Why?" He asks, not meaning to sound so harsh, but he's not entirely upset about it. "Why now, Cindy? We have—what, one or two months of school left? And then we graduate and we'll never have to see each other again, regardless of whether I go to this trivial school dance or not." He rambles on, and as a frown curves over her lips, he finds it hard to care.

    "I just—" She stops, letting her eyes flicker from his own and to the fidgeting of her hands, "I just thought you were kinda cute, I dunno." She shrugs, and he finds it hard to believe, because after going to school with Cindy for years and watching her become one of the most popular girls in school, not once had she uttered his name until this month.

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