Story cover for bad habits by jumpinjean
bad habits
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Ongoing, Unang na-publish Feb 15, 2015
"There are three reasons why people drink, Mandy."

I nodded my head for him to go on.

"Some people drink because they like the way it feels," he said, bending his head down.

I listened quietly.

"Some people drink to fit in."

I stayed silent. 

"But most people drink to get rid of their sorrow."

"Logan-"

"Don't," he said. "you already know, don't you?"

I gave a soft nod. "Yes."

"Good," he said. "because that was my first bad habit."
•
Amanda was being sent away to a camp over the summer for "troubled" kids. Being the middle child, her parents expected her to follow in the footsteps of her older brother, Brent, who goes to Harvard. Obviously her grades make her parents think that she's got some straightening up to do.
Then there's Logan, ruthless and daring. He doesn't care, and this isn't his first rodeo at this summer camp. 

But, this is his first time having a different "type" of roommate.
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47 parte Ongoing Mature

She looked at me, her eyes lingering on my bare chest and then the coffee in my hand and exhaled like this was the final straw in a life she didn't sign up for. "You drank my coffee." I raised the mug slightly. "Good morning to you too." "That was La Cabra. Imported. Limited batch. I was saving it." "I can see why," I said, taking another sip. "It's criminal how fucking good this is." Her eyes narrowed. "Who even are you?" "Severin," I said, smiling. "Seven." I nodded "Sev, if you're in a hurry." I shrugged. "I'm in a lot more than a hurry," she snapped. "You're the guy Amanda brought home last night?" "I must be." I leaned against the counter, lazy grin still in place. "You always greet her guests with this much charm, or am I just special?" She didn't laugh. Not fully. But her jaw twitched like she wanted to. "I've had 3 strangers in this apartment just this week," she said, striding past me. "You're number four. And the only one who had the audacity to drink my entire week's worth of sanity." I watched her move, precise and controlled, like every second counted. "Well," I said, "If it helps, I'm not like the others." She snorted. "You all say that." "No, really. I'm worse. I quote poetry when I'm drunk and sleepwalk through existential crises." ****** Seven and Noelle's Point of View