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[indent][indent] Wait, what did she say? Gob? Sod?

Ava scratched her head. Almost every word that she had said that followed her opinion about the rich and powerful, Ava had found herself slipping in and out of confusion as this dark-haired girl kept on going on in that thick, British accent of hers. Sure, Ava knew that people talked in different ways and if they were foreigners, then adjusting to the normalized, American lingo was a tad difficult, but the way that this chick had been talking made Ava’s mind go somewhere else, specifically why a British chick was at Columbia in the first place. It didn’t make sense. She didn’t look like the type to come from a poor family. Her clothes were pretty fashionable, though, upon a closer inspection, Ava noticed they followed that hipster trend that’s been popular as of late. Ava didn’t understand it herself, but who was she to judge? She didn’t necessarily dress to impress, either.

The Mossos girl let out a sigh. Despite what this Brit’s rhetoric and tone hinted at, Ava didn’t move a damn inch. In fact, to further how comfortable she was, she placed her bag on the table and pulled out her phone, giving the young woman across from her a rather fake, almost antagonizing smile. [color=mediumturquoise]“You know they made a movie about The Great Gatsby. I never watched it, but funny enough, I have an uncle from my mother’s side of the family my mom says looks a lot like Leonardo Dicaprio. I honestly don’t see it myself. My Uncle Gabriel has broader shoulders and is pretty much a loser.”[/color] Ava was sort of just talking, musing more like, to herself, through her eyes left her phone and went to the Brit across from her. [color=mediumturquoise]“Oh and that comment about [i]the trust fund babies[/i] —”[/color] Ava purposely spoke a little louder so those who actually were here because of mommy and daddy’s money heard her [color=mediumturquoise]“— if they truly knew about me and what family I came from, they wouldn’t think twice about messing with—”[/color]

And that’s when she put her foot in her mouth. The next thing that [i]was[/i] going to come out of Ava’s mouth was to brag about how she comes from a family of powerful people with mafia ties. That wasn’t how Ava rolled. No, she wanted to stay away from that side that actually was proud of being a criminal. She wasn’t her brother nor was she her mother. It wasn’t true. It honestly was bullshit that they claimed to be so proud of a legacy filled with violence and crime. She’d rather be poor like those in the middle class than have to show some pride in her family’s power and how they obtained it.

[color=mediumturquoise]“But nevermind that, stranger from across the pond, I’m not here to brag about my stupid family. What are you doing here in America? There are plenty of prestigious colleges from wherever it is you’re from, so why come here? Columbia isn’t exactly Brown. You probably would’ve saved a ton of pounds in commute.”[/color] Ava leaned forward, glancing at the stranger. [color=mediumturquoise]“And by the way, allow me to save you the trouble of guessing my name. I’m sure if you had all of the guesses in the world, you’d never think it was Ava. So, there it is. My name is Ava. And now, it’s your turn to do the proper, Brit thing, and tell me yours. I bet it’s something like Annabelle or [i]Clementine[/i]”[/color] Ava did the worst British accent in human history when she said Clementine just now. [color=mediumturquoise]“But seriously, it’d be nice to put a name to the thickness of your accent. Sucks having to always refer to you as ‘the Brit chick’.”[/color]


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