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he remembers you.
vaguely.
he doesn't realize it at first. under the bold eye make-up to the low cut black dress for your costume, todd didn't recognize you, much less realize you're a man.
after he says it, "y' can't smoke out here. hafta go out to the street," because he was sent out by some older frat members. because they didn't really want to talk to the ugly goth chick. because while none of them really care about smoking on the porch - the house is technically a smoke free zone and security always pays much closer attention to the campus frats around the holidays. halloween is only beaten by new years.
which is bullshit, in todd's opinion. but it is what it is. he's not really torn up about some freak leaving the party for a few minutes. he wouldn't really care if they didn't come back either.
"yeah, thanks." you raise your cigarette from where you're sat on the steps, but you don't turn towards him. you don't move, just keep smoking.
and there's a vague memory of that voice. of you in some class from last year. physics maybe, his brain supplies. couldn't remember your name. less than half remembers your face.
there's a beat. he just watches you for a moment.
then stands next to you, stretching his hand down for the cigarette. belatedly, you know it's dumb to hand it to him, but it's habit. too used to sharing and bumming cigarettes to think about it. you're annoyed as soon as he takes it, unsurprised when he walks down the path, dropping your cigarette to the ground and putting it out with his shoe.
"fuck you," there's no bite to it. your more annoyed than pissed.
"not my type." he turns on his heel, trying not to spare another glance when he passes you heading back in.
"sure."
which is barely a response. one that really shouldn't bother todd the way it does.
it's your tone that's the issue. same know it all shit from class. as if you know better.
he intends to ignore you, to walk back into the party and chug the first thing pushed into his hands.
"sure what?"
and you honestly look surprised. something about it makes an ugly pride swell in him. so he repeats himself, "sure what."
you shrug. "just thought the mistress of darkness was everyone's thing, i guess."
it's a shit costume, you know that. you're certainly not her spitting image. but what the fuck were you supposed to say to this aggro frat dick.
"what?"
"what?"
"dark mistress...?"
the confusion was more irritating, somehow. "mistress of darkness. elvira. the queen of halloween?" todd clearly has no idea what you were talking about, nor cares, for that matter."nothing? seriously? jesus. no wonder this party's shit."
"fuck it is."
"you're not even dressed up."
"why would i?"
"isn't this your halloween party?"
it's the frat's party, not his and he hadn't even considered dressing up for it. he'd been busy planning it.
regardless, he doesn't answer. again.
it was childish to argue. he should've just went straight back inside. talking here with you was nothing but a waste of time.
"this frat made you boring." and then you say something else he can't just let lie.
you seem to be good at getting under his skin in that way.
"what're you talking about." it's a demand, not a question.
"applied mathematics, last year. you doodled in your notebook." belated you add,"i remember because you had a staring problem."
another beat.
todd was still pretty sure it was physics. admittedly, he hadn't paid the best attention, so he could be wrong. he didn't have a staring problem though. that he knows your imagining. he only looked at you a handful of times. it wasn't staring.
he says as much. firmly. and omitting that he ever looked at you.
"it was definitely staring."
he ignores you. genuinely, this time. he pulls the front door open, ready to leave you and your weird shit out on the porch.
"the drawings were pretty good, though."
the door slams behind him.
you snort. what a pussy.