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Zoe spent the afternoon in the library with the rest of her Critical Thinking class, silently going over past examination papers. The class across the hall from their regular room were doing dramatic readings of some play and it sounded like they were throwing furniture around, and because Zoe’s teacher had feelings for the drama teacher (so the rumour went) he’d shifted their class to the library rather than ask the other class to quiet down.
Zoe didn’t mind. There was more space in the library, and she could sit by herself near the window and get on with writing her short essay. She’d chosen the statement ‘Why bother wasting time trying to understand dreams when there is so much we have yet to learn about the real world?’ which felt annoyingly relevant to her own life. If she’d been able to use examples of her own life she would have killed it, but as it was she was attacking the assumption that the ‘real world’ couldn’t have important reflections in the subconscious. She had to mention Freud. Zoe hated Freud. Her pen was digging into her paper and her hand was starting to cramp.
Part way through the class came a tapping on the window to her right and she turned to see Rachel, grinning sheepishly in at her. Zoe opened her hands toward her in a question what are you doing here? She was supposed to be in Media Studies, debating. Rachel gave her an exaggerated shrug in return.
Zoe huffed breath out her nose, and pointed at her paper. I can’t come out, I’m working.
Rachel wrinkled her nose. Spoil sport.
Zoe glared down at her paper. Well, she thought, she could easily finish this at home. And there were only twenty minutes left of the class anyway. She folded her exercise book shut and slid it into her bag, and Rachel did a little hop of gratitude or victory or both, before she ducked out of sight round the side the building.
Zoe slid out of class, mentioning to her teacher that she wasn’t feeling so well, and because Zoe wasn’t one of the students to cause trouble in class he let her go without comment.
“What happened?” Zoe asked, jogging round the side of the library toward Rachel.
“Might have got kicked out of class,” Rachel said, not nearly as sheepish as she should have been. She was jiggling up and down on her toes. Zoe raised her eyebrows in a question she wasn’t going to voice. “So I got up to do my debate first, because argh I couldn’t handle sitting there waiting and listening to everyone else go first so I put my hand up and volunteered us to go first.” Us was herself and her opponent, Benet. “I opened and I did great, and then Benet jumped in with her side, and it was just, ugh so frustrating! All ‘the media isn’t misrepresenting anything, no one faked the riot footage, those students deserved to get wasted’ and all I did was get up on the teacher’s desk to do my rebuttal, and I kicked arse, Zoe. Everyone was agreeing with me, everyone was cheering for me! It was the best.”
“And then you got kicked out,” said Zoe.
“Yeah. Mister was all, ‘you shouldn’t be bringing so much emotion into it, and also get off my desk.’ But I still had like three flashcards to go, so I didn’t.”
“Right,” said Zoe.
“And I forgot to give my phone to anyone but most of the rest of class caught the last half of it on their cameras anyway.”
“I’ll bet,” said Zoe.
“Don’t be mad,” Rachel grabbed Zoe’s hands and swung them back and forth between them, a pout on her face. “I argued beautifully, I just got a little carried away.”
“A little,” said Zoe. But she wasn’t as mad as she could be. Upbeat Rachel was refreshing, especially since Danny had gone home at lunch time, and even more so after last night and hours of trying to talk some calm into High Anxiety Rachel. And Rachel had gotten her out of ranting about Freud which, now that Zoe was outside, she appreciated.
“Maybe more than a little. But I’ll be better on the final. Calm. Collected. Profesh.” Rachel agreed, with a sheepish smile. Zoe rolled her eyes and turned to bash her shoulder against Rachel, and the blond girl wrapped an arm around Zoe. “Come ooon, it’s Friday afternoon. Let’s hang out till Cai gets out.”
Ak, Cai and Danny. Zoe had let class distract her from her plan to tell Danny and Rachel the rest of the truth about her. Maybe she should try and adopt some of Rachel’s climb-on-a-desk-and-preach-it bravado.
“Ooor,” Zoe said, spotting a familiar face across the stretch of ground between the car park and the library. “Do you want to get some first-hand quotes about media misrepresentation to use for your final?”
“Ye-es?”
“Cool. I know someone. Come on!”
Zoe took Rachel’s wrist and lead her across the grass. “Merry,” she called, and the other girl turned around with a confused frown on her face. She raised her eyebrows in recognition when she realised it was Zoe, but didn’t look any less confused. “Zoe,” she said. “Hi.”
They’d never been friends, Zoe and Merry, but they’d formed an alliance in Merry’s last year of high school to deal with Rhys Spencer and his dog abusing cronies. She hadn’t seen Merry much since Merry left London College, but you heard things through the hospital grapevine – Zoe knew about Patrick Ravensdale. Merry was one of the people she Kept An Eye On.
Zoe had a certain amount of respect for Merry, and though she wasn’t expecting the same in return, she thought that speaking to her was at least worth a try. Plus, a distraction to get rid of some time before Cai finished class. Plus, helping Rachel out. “Hi,” she said. “How’s… things?” Zoe wasn’t so smooth with the small talk.
“Things are okay,” said Merry. “I’m just here to give Hayley a lift home. And check out the old library.”
Zoe nodded, to acknowledge that this was indeed a thing someone might do. “Can I ask a favour?”
Merry narrowed her eyes at Zoe. “Depends?”
“So, this is Rachel here, and she’s doing a whole media studies thing revolving around the London riots and portrayal of students in mainstream media, and I thought, you might have been involved with some of that and if you were could she interview you?”
Rachel’s eyes lit up as images of herself as a reporter, maybe on TV or something, interviewing all sorts of important people, filled her mind. Or a talk show host! She’d be great at that!
Merry actually smiled. “Yeah, that’d be cool, actually. I can give you my email, Rachel. I’ve got a whole bunch of my own stuff due in soon but we could Skype maybe.”
“Maybe yeah,” said Rachel, Skype wasn’t nearly as intrepid reporter-some as a proper interview. She huffed a strand of hair off her face, then pushed it all back off her face. Merry looked at her a little closer.
“Where do I know you from?” Merry asked. She’d thought at first that she must just recognise her from school, from hanging around with Zoe, but from what she remembered Zoe didn’t hang around with anyone.
“Um,” Rachel’s stomach flipped. “Nowhere.”
“Huh,” said Merry. “You just look… never mind.”
“She looks what?” Zoe asked, alert and slightly tense.
“Like I know your face. It’s okay,” she added, because Rachel did not look comfortable. “I probably don’t. Like I said, I’ve got loads of stuff on right now and I’m knackered. It’s probably just being back at school and having everything feel familiar. Familiar but distant.” She gave Rachel a reassuring shrug.
Rachel felt the worry slide off her. She wouldn’t get anxious about this. She was the tabletop debater for justice, she had a whole class of cheering students on her side, Danny thought she was beautiful and special, she was rich for the first time ever in her life. Nothing could touch her. “One of those faces I guess,” she said, smiling as she flicked her hair over her shoulder.
“Yeah,” Merry agreed, as she wrote her email down into Rachel’s school diary. “I check this all the time, so just email when you’ve got some questions and we can find a time.”
“Thanks!” said Rachel cheerfully.
Merry’s smile wasn’t as bright. “See you guys. Take care, Zoe.”
“Yeah,” said Zoe. “Thanks.”
Rachel looped her arm through Zoe’s as they walked away. “How do you know her?”
“Just from school. She’s okay. Another shooting survivor.”
“Ooh I wondered about the limp.”
“Mm. I think that was something else,” Zoe said. “Any idea why she thought she knew you?”
“Nope! But then, my memory’s like, what’s it, grains of rice through a shopping trolley, sometimes. Maybe she babysat or something. She looks like a babysitter.”
“Maybe,” said Zoe, and let Rachel turn the conversation in a different direction (shockingly, Rachel ended up talking about Danny again) while Zoe wondered. Frustratingly, her brain didn’t have anywhere to go with this new bit of potential-Rachel-past.
And thinking about Rachel’s last got her back to thinking about her own. She was glad Cai was coming with them, for some reason. Maybe because he already knew, he would be a sort of back up. Maybe because he could prove his psychic abilities and she couldn't. Who really knows why anyone feels anything, Zoe thought with annoyance.
They met Cai after his Tech class, covered in sawdust and grinning in satisfaction. "I'm making drawers!" he said, proudly. "What, getting drawers right is hard," he explained, when the girls refused to look as impressed as they should have done.
They drove to Danny's and carried on with Zoe's musical education. A couple of blocks from Danny's house Rachel rang him to let them know they were a few minutes from invading. "You'll love his house," Rachel told Cai. Zoe noticed Rachel was in the habit of telling other people what they should love, wasn't sure what it meant.
"I look forward to it," Cai said, and pulled up out front.
Zoe didn’t mind. There was more space in the library, and she could sit by herself near the window and get on with writing her short essay. She’d chosen the statement ‘Why bother wasting time trying to understand dreams when there is so much we have yet to learn about the real world?’ which felt annoyingly relevant to her own life. If she’d been able to use examples of her own life she would have killed it, but as it was she was attacking the assumption that the ‘real world’ couldn’t have important reflections in the subconscious. She had to mention Freud. Zoe hated Freud. Her pen was digging into her paper and her hand was starting to cramp.
Part way through the class came a tapping on the window to her right and she turned to see Rachel, grinning sheepishly in at her. Zoe opened her hands toward her in a question what are you doing here? She was supposed to be in Media Studies, debating. Rachel gave her an exaggerated shrug in return.
Zoe huffed breath out her nose, and pointed at her paper. I can’t come out, I’m working.
Rachel wrinkled her nose. Spoil sport.
Zoe glared down at her paper. Well, she thought, she could easily finish this at home. And there were only twenty minutes left of the class anyway. She folded her exercise book shut and slid it into her bag, and Rachel did a little hop of gratitude or victory or both, before she ducked out of sight round the side the building.
Zoe slid out of class, mentioning to her teacher that she wasn’t feeling so well, and because Zoe wasn’t one of the students to cause trouble in class he let her go without comment.
“What happened?” Zoe asked, jogging round the side of the library toward Rachel.
“Might have got kicked out of class,” Rachel said, not nearly as sheepish as she should have been. She was jiggling up and down on her toes. Zoe raised her eyebrows in a question she wasn’t going to voice. “So I got up to do my debate first, because argh I couldn’t handle sitting there waiting and listening to everyone else go first so I put my hand up and volunteered us to go first.” Us was herself and her opponent, Benet. “I opened and I did great, and then Benet jumped in with her side, and it was just, ugh so frustrating! All ‘the media isn’t misrepresenting anything, no one faked the riot footage, those students deserved to get wasted’ and all I did was get up on the teacher’s desk to do my rebuttal, and I kicked arse, Zoe. Everyone was agreeing with me, everyone was cheering for me! It was the best.”
“And then you got kicked out,” said Zoe.
“Yeah. Mister was all, ‘you shouldn’t be bringing so much emotion into it, and also get off my desk.’ But I still had like three flashcards to go, so I didn’t.”
“Right,” said Zoe.
“And I forgot to give my phone to anyone but most of the rest of class caught the last half of it on their cameras anyway.”
“I’ll bet,” said Zoe.
“Don’t be mad,” Rachel grabbed Zoe’s hands and swung them back and forth between them, a pout on her face. “I argued beautifully, I just got a little carried away.”
“A little,” said Zoe. But she wasn’t as mad as she could be. Upbeat Rachel was refreshing, especially since Danny had gone home at lunch time, and even more so after last night and hours of trying to talk some calm into High Anxiety Rachel. And Rachel had gotten her out of ranting about Freud which, now that Zoe was outside, she appreciated.
“Maybe more than a little. But I’ll be better on the final. Calm. Collected. Profesh.” Rachel agreed, with a sheepish smile. Zoe rolled her eyes and turned to bash her shoulder against Rachel, and the blond girl wrapped an arm around Zoe. “Come ooon, it’s Friday afternoon. Let’s hang out till Cai gets out.”
Ak, Cai and Danny. Zoe had let class distract her from her plan to tell Danny and Rachel the rest of the truth about her. Maybe she should try and adopt some of Rachel’s climb-on-a-desk-and-preach-it bravado.
“Ooor,” Zoe said, spotting a familiar face across the stretch of ground between the car park and the library. “Do you want to get some first-hand quotes about media misrepresentation to use for your final?”
“Ye-es?”
“Cool. I know someone. Come on!”
Zoe took Rachel’s wrist and lead her across the grass. “Merry,” she called, and the other girl turned around with a confused frown on her face. She raised her eyebrows in recognition when she realised it was Zoe, but didn’t look any less confused. “Zoe,” she said. “Hi.”
They’d never been friends, Zoe and Merry, but they’d formed an alliance in Merry’s last year of high school to deal with Rhys Spencer and his dog abusing cronies. She hadn’t seen Merry much since Merry left London College, but you heard things through the hospital grapevine – Zoe knew about Patrick Ravensdale. Merry was one of the people she Kept An Eye On.
Zoe had a certain amount of respect for Merry, and though she wasn’t expecting the same in return, she thought that speaking to her was at least worth a try. Plus, a distraction to get rid of some time before Cai finished class. Plus, helping Rachel out. “Hi,” she said. “How’s… things?” Zoe wasn’t so smooth with the small talk.
“Things are okay,” said Merry. “I’m just here to give Hayley a lift home. And check out the old library.”
Zoe nodded, to acknowledge that this was indeed a thing someone might do. “Can I ask a favour?”
Merry narrowed her eyes at Zoe. “Depends?”
“So, this is Rachel here, and she’s doing a whole media studies thing revolving around the London riots and portrayal of students in mainstream media, and I thought, you might have been involved with some of that and if you were could she interview you?”
Rachel’s eyes lit up as images of herself as a reporter, maybe on TV or something, interviewing all sorts of important people, filled her mind. Or a talk show host! She’d be great at that!
Merry actually smiled. “Yeah, that’d be cool, actually. I can give you my email, Rachel. I’ve got a whole bunch of my own stuff due in soon but we could Skype maybe.”
“Maybe yeah,” said Rachel, Skype wasn’t nearly as intrepid reporter-some as a proper interview. She huffed a strand of hair off her face, then pushed it all back off her face. Merry looked at her a little closer.
“Where do I know you from?” Merry asked. She’d thought at first that she must just recognise her from school, from hanging around with Zoe, but from what she remembered Zoe didn’t hang around with anyone.
“Um,” Rachel’s stomach flipped. “Nowhere.”
“Huh,” said Merry. “You just look… never mind.”
“She looks what?” Zoe asked, alert and slightly tense.
“Like I know your face. It’s okay,” she added, because Rachel did not look comfortable. “I probably don’t. Like I said, I’ve got loads of stuff on right now and I’m knackered. It’s probably just being back at school and having everything feel familiar. Familiar but distant.” She gave Rachel a reassuring shrug.
Rachel felt the worry slide off her. She wouldn’t get anxious about this. She was the tabletop debater for justice, she had a whole class of cheering students on her side, Danny thought she was beautiful and special, she was rich for the first time ever in her life. Nothing could touch her. “One of those faces I guess,” she said, smiling as she flicked her hair over her shoulder.
“Yeah,” Merry agreed, as she wrote her email down into Rachel’s school diary. “I check this all the time, so just email when you’ve got some questions and we can find a time.”
“Thanks!” said Rachel cheerfully.
Merry’s smile wasn’t as bright. “See you guys. Take care, Zoe.”
“Yeah,” said Zoe. “Thanks.”
Rachel looped her arm through Zoe’s as they walked away. “How do you know her?”
“Just from school. She’s okay. Another shooting survivor.”
“Ooh I wondered about the limp.”
“Mm. I think that was something else,” Zoe said. “Any idea why she thought she knew you?”
“Nope! But then, my memory’s like, what’s it, grains of rice through a shopping trolley, sometimes. Maybe she babysat or something. She looks like a babysitter.”
“Maybe,” said Zoe, and let Rachel turn the conversation in a different direction (shockingly, Rachel ended up talking about Danny again) while Zoe wondered. Frustratingly, her brain didn’t have anywhere to go with this new bit of potential-Rachel-past.
And thinking about Rachel’s last got her back to thinking about her own. She was glad Cai was coming with them, for some reason. Maybe because he already knew, he would be a sort of back up. Maybe because he could prove his psychic abilities and she couldn't. Who really knows why anyone feels anything, Zoe thought with annoyance.
They met Cai after his Tech class, covered in sawdust and grinning in satisfaction. "I'm making drawers!" he said, proudly. "What, getting drawers right is hard," he explained, when the girls refused to look as impressed as they should have done.
They drove to Danny's and carried on with Zoe's musical education. A couple of blocks from Danny's house Rachel rang him to let them know they were a few minutes from invading. "You'll love his house," Rachel told Cai. Zoe noticed Rachel was in the habit of telling other people what they should love, wasn't sure what it meant.
"I look forward to it," Cai said, and pulled up out front.
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no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 01:04 pm (UTC)From:"Hey," he said, once they were alone. "Are you really okay?"
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Date: 2014-05-07 01:15 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 01:18 pm (UTC)From:Then he turned a deep shade of red, his grin never wavering.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 01:22 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 01:25 pm (UTC)From:He became less hesitant, though he didn't push. He'd let her decide if she wanted to deepen their kissing. Besides, he didn't really know how.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 01:43 pm (UTC)From:She parted his lips with hers, slowly drawing out his tongue to come play. Kissing him felt so good, like they were the best people in the world.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 01:49 pm (UTC)From:Danny did not mind either.
He slid one hand around to the small of her back and the other slid upwards so he could bury his fingers into her hair. He forgot all about werewolves and ghosts and winged people because Rachel was in his arms and he was kissing her and it felt great. No one was screaming. No one was freaking out. No one was panicking.
He pulled back only to rest his forehead against hers for a moment. "I really like you," he said, breathless. Then he leaned in to kiss her again.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 01:54 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 01:57 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 01:57 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:03 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:07 pm (UTC)From:Cai grinned in return. "How long have they been going out?"
"Hm. I don't know if it's going out, exactly. They kind of hit it off the moment they met. It's been building since then."
"They seem sweet together," Cai said.
Zoe nodded. "They do."
no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:11 pm (UTC)From:Then taking a leaf out of Rachel's book, he trailled kisses from her lips to her neck before pulled away, his eyes wide. "Ohhhh, Jesus," he breathed, hiding his face in her shoulder.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:15 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:19 pm (UTC)From:He hissed in pleasure, unable to stop himself, before he pulled back a bit. His hips were still pushed up against the kitchen counter though, and his ears had gone quite red. "Just, uhm-" He blew out his cheeks, trying to think of a non-embarrassing way to explain his predicament. "Heh. Uhm. A...reaction...is happening..."
no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:25 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:28 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:35 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:40 pm (UTC)From:He took several deep breaths before he said, "we shouldn't leave Zoe. She just told us personal things." Then he looked up at her and smiled sheepishly. "You should note the intense internal struggle it took to arrive there though." He leaned in to kiss her again, this time much more chastely. "I just- I need a moment," he said before clearing his throat.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:55 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 02:58 pm (UTC)From:He finally stepped away from the counter, sure that he was at least calm enough for his 'reaction' to not be so obvious. He flicked the kettle on again and grabbed a pot he could throw some teabags into."
no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 03:00 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 03:03 pm (UTC)From:The kettle finished boiling and he poured the water into the pot. Arranging everything on trays, he glanced over at her. "Ready to go back out? Your hair's a bit..." he mimed 'mussed' at her, unaware his was too.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 03:06 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2014-05-07 03:09 pm (UTC)From: