that was way harsh, ty. (pinolo) wrote in fableless, @ 2016-07-01 12:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log/thread, leda stavros, tyler pirlo |
WHO: Leda Stavros & Tyler Pirlo
WHEN: 3 years ago
WHERE: Some college party during orientation week
SUMMARY: First beer pong tag team VICTORY (Bingo challenge, what up)
WARNINGS: ---
STATUS: Complete!
The party was packed tighter than a tin of sardines, and as alcohol and the lack of air ventilation clung to Tyler quite mercilessly, it was of little surprise that he lost track of his friends. He had half-heartedly sought out Kit, but by this point, it was like finding a needle in a haystack amongst all these people. Eventually, he made his way to the beer-pong table, only to receive a hearty slap on the back. “PIRLOOOOO. Just in time for the next round! You’re playing.” Tyler turned around. This guy he vaguely remembered from random parties here and there. Jeremy -- was that his name? Too many underclassmen, most of whom probably had never even played beer pong before. But on the other hand, the throngs of people were literally barricading him around the table, such that he had little choice but to play a round or stand awkwardly and watch a freshman’s flubbed attempt at pong. “Yeah, sure,” Tyler shrugged. What was a couple swigs of shitty beer anyway? Only a split second later, and he barely caught a ping-pong ball hastily thrown in his direction. “Alright, ALRIGHT, we got Pirlo playing us!” Jeremy’s voice practically boomed across the crowd. A few cheers erupted, but were easily drowned out by the overall volume of people. “Ty, get a partner. It’s doubles time. Or, hey, you could play two-on-one if you feel like livin’ on the edge,” Jeremy laughed. He seemed to have no problem grabbing his girlfriend, who was now standing beside him from the other end of the table. Tyler groaned. Goddamnit, where were his friends when he needed them. He scanned the mass of people, vaguely hoping somebody familiar would show up so that he could volunteer them as his partner. Leda had come here with some girls she’d met during orientation week. One of them had been a native but she’d lost them all ages ago and wasn’t concerned. Even though they made a pact not to lose each other. None of them seemed to have much house party experience and this party seemed tame enough to Leda. If she’d been more self conscious she may have felt insecure with how some of the upperclasswomen were looking at her - as if she was over-dressed for the occasion. But there was no event that Leda wasn’t overdressed for and they’d learn that in time. She just smiled sweetly at them for now, storing their faces in her list of people she wouldn’t mind messing with once she settled here a bit more. Right now she was prowling for something very specific. It didn’t take her too long to find the beer pong room. And she didn’t hesitate to walk up to it when one round ended. “Pirlo, is it?” She looked him up and down, pleased with how good looking he was. But that really wasn’t going to get her the triumph she desired right now. “Am I going to have to carry this team?” Tyler stared at the girl blankly for a split second. Did he know this chick? He tried to rack his brain of the major parties he had attended in the past year, and he was coming up empty. He had a pair of eyes to know that he would have hit on her if he had seen her. So, no. Either she knew of him or he was an asshole who forgot the names of literally everybody. Both options seemed plausible at this point, but he couldn’t dwell. He needed a beer pong partner. “Only question is if you’re going first or if I am,” he smirked. The ping pong ball was proffered in his hand, should she have felt brazen enough to start them off. His confused little stare fueled her to be even more confident in a room full of strangers than she already was. Leda grinned widely and took the ball out of his hands. “If you were a gentleman, you’d know that it’s always ladies first.” Leda made room for herself to get into the stance she threw best in. She aimed for the center most cup in the third row. It wasn’t entirely accurate, but the first throw being the easiest, allowed for a rebound into a cup in the second row. She stood up straight and made room for her partner to take his turn, then introduced herself, “I’m Leda.” “Hey, I thought chivalry died in the Middle Ages,” Tyler raised his arms up in mock surrender as Leda boldly plucked the ping pong ball out of his hands, to gear herself up for the first shot. As she smiled confidently at him, he couldn’t help but notice that -- well, she was a pretty girl. He also noticed that she seemed pretty deece at beer pong, having made a solid rebounded shot. “Nice one!” he exclaimed as he raised his arm in a high-five as she made her way back to him, Leda reacted immediately to complete the high-five. Hand-shaking was for nerds. “Tyler. One half of this dream team.” However, the introduction was cut off by a plop on their side and several cheers, as the other girl’s shot successfully landed in one of their cups. “Forget ladies first for this one, I’ll take it for the team,” Tyler said. He grabbed the red cup, scooped out the ball, and took a long swig of beer before tossing it aside. Luckily, one beer (or beer-flavored water, in Tyler’s opinion) did little to deter Tyler’s hand-eye coordination, as he made a light throw towards the other aside, and the ball landed cleanly in the second row. “Beautiful,” Leda complimented his form. “So, Tyler,” she started while keeping an eye on the boy across the table chugging the beer, “how long have you been in Woodsbridge?” When the other boy did take his shot she grinned widely when it bounced off the table. She moved quickly to retrieve it. She dipped it into the cup of water to ‘clean’ it but that water already looked pretty disgusting. Leda didn’t let herself think about it too much before taking her next shot. This time, it arched smoothly into a cup in the third row. “We’re on a fucking roll!” Tyler gave Leda a fistbump. Catching the other girl’s question, he continued, “Eh, three years, give or take. I’m originally from Boston. What about you? Are you a lifer?” He caught the ball from the other side just before it missed the edge of the ping pong table by a mere inch, as their opponent had been unable to convert their shot. Letting out a low whistle of relief that he didn’t have to chug yet another shitty beer -- at least not for the next minute, Tyler smirked as he expertly aimed the ball for a far corner. Needless to say, by the time the ball landed in the cup with a definitive plop, he was looking pretty smug. “Boston.” She stated his answer. Leda couldn’t profess to know much about the city other than what she’d learned about the Boston Tea Party and that you were meant to eat fish when you were there. She teased him instead, “So you don’t believe in pronouncing the letter ‘R’, right?” “No, I’m not a lifer,” She answered, then took her next shot. It bounced from one rim, to the next, finally bouncing off the board without dropping into a cup. She frowned at it fiercely before elaborating. “I’m new. I grew up about two hours north of here and found this place purely by happenstance.” “Not unless it starts with R and ends with ed Sox,” Tyler smirked, as if he didn’t need to inflate the Masshole reputation that usually preceded him. “And even then, we just call ‘em the Sox because we’re lazy fucks like that.” “Eh, we’ll get ‘em next time.” He winced somewhat dramatically at Leda’s missed shot. “Looks like we’ve gotta good lead over them.” The difference between the number of cups was too large for him to ignore. “So Norcal, huh? You guys eat kale chips and eat avocadoes all day, I’m guessing? Or are you too far north, like up in Sacramento?” Leda made gagging sounds at the mention of kale. “Norcal, but no kale for me. That is the grossest shit that’s ever passed my lips.” She gave an exaggerated full body shudder at the memory. “But yea, all the crunchy people live around me. But, you know, I grew up on organics and all that which has supposedly made me a better person for it.” Leda rolled her eyes, showing her true feeling about that. She frowned as one of their opponents got another cup. This time she took the drink before Tyler could swoop in. Fair was fair. After a couple sips she took her shot, happy to have recovered in this turn as her ball gave a large ‘plop’ as it landed in the back row. “Good, because kale tastes like trash,” Tyler laughed at Leda’s mock gagging. Maybe it was growing up in a staunchly East Coast environment, but something about Californian pretensions regarding food turned him off that he found Leda’s reactions refreshing. “Do you drink almond milk and only eat food that was raised within twenty miles of you?” “Got your groove back,” he winked at her as she rebounded her shot nicely. Unfortunately, his ego got the better of him as his shot sailed over the cup in the farthest corner, a very clean miss. He winced audibly. “Me, not so much.” She sighed softly it was all so stereotypical, but also true. Her parents weren’t as bad as some others, but people who didn’t grow up around it still thought it was weird. “Almond milk is so different than kale though! It’s actually good.” Leda smiled. “But yea, my parents were all about the co-op life. You know, NorCal.” Leda nudged his arm. “Don’t worry, Tiger, we’ll get ‘em back.” Tyler gave Leda a deadpan look as she defended the merits of almond milk. “Almond milk,” he repeated. I don’t believe you, his expression implied. “Eh, I can’t even talk. You should hear my parents tahhhk. The accent’s strong with those two. That, and my equivalent of almond milk was Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. I never drank that Starbucks Kool-aid.” Leda gave a groan at the mention of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. “That stuff tastes like tar. You really ought to improve the quality of coffee in your life.” He resisted the urge to smirk at her disdain over Dunkin’ Donuts, and instead gave her a playful nudge back, just in time for his opponents to miss their shot. “Ooooh, ice.” All hope wasn’t lost yet. “Aiiight, Leda, you got this.” He could feel his accent sliding through. “You got it.” This was it, last cup on the board and, obviously, the most important. She stood a little straighter and took her stance, not letting any jeers from their opponents friends break her concentration. Leda took her shot, and made it. She raised her hands up in victory and turned to look at her teammate. “We rock!” Tyler raised his arm up in mock solemnity. “High fucking five, my friend, high-fucking-five,” he loudly declared to Leda, especially within earshot of their fallen opponents on the other end of the ping pong table. After embracing Leda in a congratulatory hug (and -- of course -- a “Tough luck, Jer” to the other boy, out of pity), he let out a whoop of victory. After the cheers died down and the next round of players began to clear the table, essentially crowding out Tyler and his newfound beer pong teammate, Tyler said, “Listen, if you ever need a teammate for beer pong, look me up.” And with that, his friend -- there he was, not that Tyler had remembered he had gotten lost -- called his name, and Tyler waved goodbye to Leda. He figured it wasn’t the last time he’d see her. Besides, how many other Ledas were on Facebook? |