"What do I want?" Lanes heart sinks to her stomach and she scrunches her eyebrows. Hasn't she thought about this... at all? Doesn't she have anything to say? Lane fiddles with her fingers. She feels stiff in this moment, unable determind which way this conversation needs to go. It is clear to her that Aimee has put little to no thought into anything concerning Lane for the last 2 months. Lane would love to convince the girl beside her that they should be friends, hang out.... fall in love and spend all their time together. But Aimee is disconnected and maybe it's the alcohol or the fact that it's nearly midnight, but it hurts Lane just enough to keep her quiet. She looks up from staring at her lap to see everyone dancing in front of the flames. The music blasts reaching all ends of the campus. Everyone's having such a good time, exactly what Lane had intended to do tonight. Lane shifts her position awkwardly in a way so that she may face Aimee better. She stays silent though, letting her nervousness get the best of her.
Before all of this had happened Aimee and Lane hadn't even known each other. They had been nothing but classmates. If not for that night they would be two strangers, irrelevant to each other's lives. Now sitting on this bench nothing could be undone. And Lane didn't mind it, things could only go up from here. Okay that's a lie.
"Do you want to dance... a little?" She asks, letting the words slide out of her mouth cautiously. Lane brushes hair away from her face, a cool breeze passes giving her goose bumps, being closer to the fire would be nice right now, although it doesn't seem likely that she enjoy the rest of the night. Lane looks back into the girl opposite hers eyes, searching for anything. All she gets is distance though. As if Aimee wasn't even hearing the words Lane was speaking. "Or we could just sit here..." Lane sniffs. On the inside she is hitting herself, begging herself not to cry twice in one day. She faces away from Aimee figuring that there wasn't much she could say or do that would turn this moment of social stiffness around. Maybe it was bad timing to sort this all out, sitting on a bench on the outskirts of the largest summer bash of the year.