Cheyenne laid back on her elbows in the grass. Her feet taped to the music and her eyes were closed. She was enjoying this moment. The sun was shining on her face and the warmth felt wonderful. She looked at her watch and realized it she had been sitting there quite a while and didn’t want to burn. It was awful to be as pale as she. Her sister often teased her about being almost albino. So in light that she didn’t want to burn, she reluctantly got up and took her head phones off. She decided maybe it was best to scout the halls and try to learn where some of the classes were.

Walking out of the cafeteria she took out her schedule and wondered the halls. Making notes in her head so she would remember it when it was full of students. A few students waved to her, some nodded, most just didn’t even notice her. They were to busy in conversations of rumors. A small snort escaped. It was like high school kids had nothing better to do than talk about other people. It was entertaining though. She never spread them, but seemed to have a good time listening to them. Most of the were lies, it was like reading tabloids. Even though nothing was real or the truth in them, they were still fun to read. They are always a good laugh.


((ooc: she is still approachable.))

The little people walked on and the little people walked by, and Cynthia and company took their turns snickering at the misguided fashion victims and the recent break-ups and the people who really should be put down as a mercy killing.

Cynthia rolled her eyes and her friends chuckled an "oh... my... god," after Loren waved at them.

"He's so deluded," Cynthia commented coolly, inwardly more than a little agitated that Loren had tried waving at them. How many times did she have to tell him--never talk to me during school. Don't even act like you know me.

"Think fast, Natasha... here comes that loser brother of yours," Heather whispered.

"Ugh, gawwd. I hate having such embarrassing relatives," Natasha groaned under her voice.

Cynthia pursed her lips and pushed her lame cousin out of her mind. She sipped on her drink, and the straw made a hollow gurgling noise as she downed the last of her soda.

"At least he's good for something, right?" She winked at Natasha then turned to look at the boy entering the cafeteria. She didn't really notice if he looked downcast because she didn't really care. Back in middle school, he waited on every little thing she had asked for, and so what if he was kind of a nerd? She was always up for an extra minion to kick around.

Cynthia waved at Jude and smiled coyly. Natasha rolled her eyes as he came over, and Cynthia said ever so sweetly, "Hey Jude, will you pick me up a coke from the snack line?"

"And a bag of chips for me," Heather added in a sing-song voice.

"Make that two bags," Natasha ordered.

"And some pretzels."

After the other girls had added in their orders, Cynthia perked a smile on her face again, and as soon as Jude made a motion that could be interpreted as an okay, Cynthia chimed, "Thanks! You're such a sweetheart."

After the boy left their table, the girls whispered something to each other and giggled in unison.

Donnie had already finished his lunch in the most efficient manner, and he joined Jude as he entered the line. He hadn't seen him around yesterday night or this morning, and he had been eager the whole time to tell him of his exploits,

"Hey, where were you yesterday? You missed the most epic raid evar. We held Thunder Bluff for a few hours, and I totally pwned Lestat4554 and camped his body."

Jude gave something between a lukewarm response and a nonresponse, and Donnie's brows furrowed and he looked again at his friend. He recognized his slumped shoulders and downcast look and overall disheveledness. Oops, he thought. Okay, be sympathetic and understanding.

"Hey, are you okay?"

((OOC: To be clear, Cynthia is still approachable. Donnie is not approachable))

There are always subtleties in the way people act, Dylan learned. The smallest drop in tone, the slightest shift of hues in their eyes, and it was a different affair. Just like how the slightest difference in what she said changed the tone of the situation – and hence why she’d refrained from challenging him or offsetting him in any way – the smallest differences between potential replied stood for a lot. And Dylan figured it was because people were often subtle, because it wasn’t always easy to just come out and say things, because of pride or denial or whatever, and often, it was like a minefield, and therefore, she had to tread carefully.

She knew he was at least a little displeased still about her turning up and him being made to deal with this when she was more or less sure that he’d rather have it so that she was as oblivious as she had been this morning, but she was glad she’d found out. Partly because it was a prompt for her to actually get to building the bridges between them rather than simply hoping that one day, she’d be able to, and partly because... she had a niece! She had an adorable, angelic niece! How cool was that?!
But she’d played her cards and she’d worn her heart on her sleeve and therefore, she’d placed the ball well and truly in Tyler’s court. She was really hoping he chose as she wanted him to.

“What are you, their spokesperson?” he snapped and Dylan’s gaze dropped to the floor momentarily and some amalgamation of sting and embarrassment; he was right, she was almost lobbying for them, and she’d yet to hear his feelings on the matter. But that said, she wasn’t even sure if he’d actually tell her. "If they want to tell me something, they can tell me them-bloody-selves."

She was! That was why she was here, talking, to tell him – oh. He wanted Dad and Mrs Young to come over and apologise too? And... what of her? What was his stance over her being here, saying all of this? It felt sort of selfish, for her to effectively take a "Alright, forget them, what about me?" footing on it, but was something, as opposed to nothing, and Dylan, at this point especially, didn't want to be turned away by him, because it felt like it might be now or never.

However, while Dylan was struggling to make sense of it all, Tara was even further behind, but jumped ahead on solving the problem where Dylan couldn’t;
"Daddy,” she softly interrupted, looking up at him and instantly commanding his full attention in a way that had Dylan smiling at how she had him wrapped around her little finger. "Why are you angry at Dylan?"
Aww! Alright, there was no question about it; Dylan was going to spoil that little girl stupid.

"I'm not angry at her, pumpkin,” Tyler soothed affectionately and Dylan’s eyes locked onto him in question; "We're just talking about other people that do make me angry."
She didn’t make him angry? But she’d thought he’d blamed her for... did that mean he’d accepted her apology, or did that mean he was really just angry at Dad and Mrs Young?

What if he’d never really been mad at her, and she’d just sort of abandoned him? What if all along, he’d distanced himself from Dad and Mrs Young, and it looked like she’d chosen to stick with them rather than make and attempt to reach out to him and suddenly, Dylan felt awful about coming across like that. She didn’t want to be the one who’d abandoned him. She could sit here and argue out her case while he refused, but she didn’t want to be the one who abandoned him. But had that been the case, he’d probably be a lot angrier at her, and so, she rested somewhat easier.

He turned his gaze back to her and – in the middle of contemplation – she found herself a little at a loss for things to say and all that lingered for a few moments was an awkward silence as Dylan struggled not to push the issue of who he was mad at against what he wanted to do now.
Then she smiled just a little, almost bashful in venturing out with her suggestion;

“If you’re not mad at me...,” she started with waning hesitation. “Think you could give me a second chance?”

((OOC- Sorry about my lengthy absence, power's been out and there's snow up to my armpits outside. AppleNinja, if you want to move Alice on, you are absolutely welcome to, I never expected it to take this long.))

"Do you dance?" she asked, after a self depreciating comment.

It was sort of an awkward question. The dance numbers were one of his favorite things about musical theater, other than the singing and the fact there was an orchestra and the amusing plot devices that led people to singing after a tragedy and the fact that... Maybe favorite was too strong a word, since he liked the whole package so much. Dancing was something he liked in musical theater.

Then again, dancing at dances was kind of a different story. He certainly wasn't the type to wallflower it up, and on the rare occasions he could convince someone to grind with him, he definitely enjoyed that, but that could hardly be called dancing, could it? And most girls didn't waltz, which he definitely liked, and even if they did, it was awkward to waltz when the dj didn't play anything slow. So all in all... "Not much, and not really at school dances."

He shrugged, not really sure where to go with this conversation. He was going to eat another one of those French fries, buy time a little, and they were semi edible after all, but he was all out. He said the first thing that came to mind then, given that he was still hungry and thinking lightly about the dance. "Either way, I'll definitely go, they have really awesome catering usually."

How lame did that sound? Was there rehearsal today? He sort of stared into space as he thought about those vitally, if not equally, important issues.

((OOC: Katie post will follow.
Hope this is okay with you, Ninja?))

Katie had finished the poster in plenty of time, but for once she had a partner. A partner who absolutely didn't want to talk to her, nicely, rudely or otherwise. So she shaded in the white space to emphasize the lettering, made the whole thing look very artistic and nice, and reflect back on the ad in some deeply intellectual way that Mrs. Diaz could expound upon however she wanted.

When the bell rang her partner left fairly quickly, and Katie didn't mind at all. She rolled up the poster and turned her poster in, with her partner's name finally on the thing. Cheyenne was nice and quiet and didn't bother her while she was working. Last week that would have been gold material for a partner, but now, after Jude had come back, and she'd met Esteban and the others, and that stupid silver nitrate prank and bailing out Penny... It hadn't been a great week for liking new people even if they met the previous week's ideal.

The halls were packed as the juniors went off to lunch, and the underclassmen scurried towards their classes*. Katie went to her locker to get her own lunch and she hissed through her teeth when she found that someone had stuffed it with the remains of a shredder. She half heartedly kicked the mess over to the other side and went to ask a janitor who would clean it up. He told her to go eat her lunch and she did so without a second thought, striding off to the cafeteria.

"Katie!" a familiar voice called, and with a wide smile Katie turned around to receive a large hug from Penny who had come barrelling up the hallway. "I don't know what you did Byrd," the freshman said, smiling just as widely, "but I appreciate it. Mom was all set to kill me."

"And why would you think I did anything?" Katie asked innocently, and then, with a bit of sharpness, "why aren't you in class?"

Penny didn't bother to answer, and with a wave and a hollered, "I owe ya one Byrd", she sauntered down the hall, hopefully towards her next class. Mood bolstered by seeing that the school hadn't noticed the suspension termination under the guidance counselor's code instead of Laramie's, Katie went to lunch and found her usual empty table. A few people on the table two down from her stared at her for a second and got up, which Katie knew couldn't be hazing, she knew it, but it still bothered her and as she nibbled on her sandwich she tried desperately to think of something other than her lack of social life.

She saw Jude walk into the cafeteria, and she took a bite out of her sandwich with a bit more violence than was strictly necessary. So he left because of her and gave her doubtless insincere compliments? Good riddance. He probably had a girlfreind in Greenland. He'd probably left because she'd gotten crazy and dealing with Katie was preferable. He was a jerk. Natasha may have turned into an evil toady, but she wouldn't lie about something she could easily have guessed meant so much to Katie.

See? He even went to go and talk to that b*tch Cynthia. He'd told her in middle school how much he liked her. That must be why he came back, to torment her and to seduce stupid brainless evil cheerleader Cynthia. He was such a jerk, even though he acted nice, even though he'd been her best freind in middle school- check that, he'd been her best freind's brother and her only other freind- he was just a jerk who'd left the country to avoid her. Natasha wouldn't have lied about that, and with how much she'd fished for information from her, even though Natasha had made it so clear she wanted Katie out of her life... she would know.

She glanced down at her sandwich. She'd been squeezing it so hard that there were sharp creases and hummus was leaking onto her hands. Delicately she put the sandwich on her lunch bag and pulled out a tissue to wipe off her hands.

((*I hope no one considers it GMing that each year has a different lunch? If its a problem, talk to me, because it makes it much easier.
Hope that was okay with you gears?))

((OOC: Furry - glad you're doing ok with the crazy snow storm stuff that's going on. And btw, leaky hummus sandwich Katie is so cute ))

It was happening. The one thing that Matt had feared more than anything, was happening. The very moment that he'd felt Josh's frame close in on his own, as if about to try to yet again offer the comfort they both knew was more than Josh was truly capable of offering, the door had swung open to the sound of a crescendo. A crescendo caused both by the intruder slamming himself against the door as it flew open, but most of all, by Matt's life crashing down around him, and shattering into a million tiny little pieces before his very eyes.

"Ooops. Wrong room."

It was the sound of doom, the voice uttering those banal and almost innocently humerous words. The situation was anything but humerous, and the look in the eyes of the person delivering them was anything but innocent. No, what Matt saw as his own umber gaze locked in horror on the form of Esteban Morales, resident miscreant with a tendency to pick a fight with anything and anyone, were dark pools of pure, undiluted and malicious triumph, at having walked in and caught Matt Sidle and Josh Brennan, two of the boys that judging by his reputation, Esteban hated the most, in such a compromising position. Because it clearly didn't really make a speck of difference to him that they'd sprung apart the moment they'd heard the door burst open; it was clear that he had still seen them close together, and drawn his own twisted conclusions. And that he'd make their lives hell.

It was as though Matt's brain had come to a screeching halt, and he could but stare in utter horror at the way smugness claimed Esteban's sharp features. At least that's what it felt like to him, when even though what was happening was playing out right before him, he was frozen to the spot. He couldn't react. He couldn't even process a single thought. He saw it all playing out in front of his very eyes, like a movie on a screen, and in slow motion, with him watching from outside it all, unable to stop it, unable to rewind and keep it from happening, or even hit the pause button, to buy himself more time to find a way out. All he could do was stand there, and listen as the galling taunting began, and the derisive jeers started hailing over them. "C*ck block", "fags", the spitting on the floor at Josh's feet in disgust... It was everything he had been so deathly afraid of, everything that he knew would happen, should Josh have his way, compacted into this very point in time.
No, no, no, no...

"It is now you're here."

Within seconds, Josh's voice had shot back a retort to Esteban's insults, and Matt's heart almost stopped in his chest. Was he crazy?!! Why was he provoking that guy?! Why was he giving him incentive to be even more vengeful and malicious?! What was wrong with him?! Did he want to p*ss Esteban off, anger him enough to turn on his heel and go tell the whole world about all this?! What was he thinking?! Was he even thinking?!

"Shut up!", Matt croaked in a heated whisper, though it seemed to go unheard.

Esteban's laughter rang out between the four walls of the boiler room, easily drowning it out and drawing Matt's horrified gaze back to him, just as he crossed his arms loosely over his chest, his whole appearance oozing with confidence and superiority in the face of the two boys with whom he'd now suddenly gained the upper hand.

"Don't you two have girlfriends?", he pointed out rather than asked, a reprimanding tone in his voice. "And here you are, sneaking down here to rub dicks behind their backs--if they knew about this, I wonder what they'd do. It just breaks the heart, no?"

Every sordid word of every insinuation he made of what he thought was going on between them, felt like the lash of a whip to Matt's psyche, and he couldn't help but to wince and cringe at the worst of it.
At the same time, it was as though the jolt of it somehow threw his brain into gear, and made it function again, because it was at that very moment, that he suddenly snapped out of his frozen state, and a million and one thoughts started flooding his head all at once, darting through his mind so fast that he could barely keep up.

The first; he had to stop this somehow! He had to convince Esteban to keep his filthy mouth shut. He'd managed to do it with Natalie, for now, by playing along, and there ought to be some way to accomplish the same with Esteban. The kid was a loser, a guttersnipe, a social wellfare case; it shouldn't be too difficult to find something he'd figure was worth keeping his trap shut for. It couldn't be.

Second: "Girlfriend"? What girlfriend? Matt didn't have a... Oooh!
Esteban had to mean Sienna! Either that, or he was really behind on things, because Matt hadn't had a girlfriend for the past couple of weeks. Nor did he now. Sienna wasn't his girlfriend, she was just... someone he was considering, someone he felt like taking for a ride again, and maybe hook up with officially, for a little while at least.

"Break up with them", Esteban demanded, before Matt had managed to sort out whatever else was going through his head. "Tomorrow. In public. It's only fair, right?"

Break up with her? What, that was it? That was all Matt had to do? To dump Sienna, which was something he was already being forced to do anyway? Well, h*ll, consider it done!
Not that he really enjoyed the idea of humiliating Sienna by ditching her two days before the dance - surely Esteban had to mean tomorrow at the latest; Matt didn't have time to wait that long, if he was to make as sure as he possibly could that Natalie was keeping quiet as well - and in public too, only to ask someone else out as soon as he possibly could afterwards. But better her than him, right? Sure, she'd be devastated at first, he knew that, but she'd live. She'd bounce back. Matt, on the other hand, if this thing with him and Josh got out... He'd be ruined! So no, better Sienna than him. Far, far better. He'd even make sure to let her down as gently as he could, just to ease the blow.

And really, Jesus Christ, Esteban too?? What was it with people and wanting Matt to dump whoever he might be dating? First Natalie and now Esteban. What was up with that?

Still, even though to Matt, dumping Sienna was an easy sacrifice to make, considering the alternative, that didn't mean there was any reason whatsoever to let any of it on for Esteban. It would be a sure way of making that prick come up with something else, something worse. And so, with fragments of his composure starting to return, Matt wasn't going to give him reason to think he wasn't reluctant to submit to this particular demand of his. He was - just not as much as Esteban would think - and the situation as a whole was more than enough to fuel the faint scowl easing it's way across his features, and the tightening of his jaw, making it look as though he was making an effort to actually hold his tongue for once.

"Fine", he simply spat, brown eyes darkened to near black, and he too drew somewhat closer.

Though not as far as Josh, and not in a way to challenge Esteban like Josh had done, but rather just as a result of the intensity sizzling in the air between the three boys. He still kept his distance from the both of them.

Throughout the whole conversation about her maybe joining Lilith and Tyler for the dance on Saturday, Leigh had contemplated the idea of agreeing, and going with them. Despite her initial reaction and her reservations, she had considered it, and tried to see the draw that Lilith seemed to see. However, while she did recognize the chances of having a little fun by shaking things up a bit, as Lilith had put it, she just wasn't comfortable with the idea of maybe ending up a third wheel. Lilith would never do that to her intentionally, Leigh knew that, but she also knew that a person wasn't always the master of their feelings, and that if Lilith maybe did turn out to feel like wanting the kind of somewhat more private fun with Tyler, Leigh would probably be able to sense it, and, as the friend she was, would decide to leave the two alone. Which was usually fine, she didn't tend to mind. It was just that with no other friends around to hang out with instead, she'd end up bored in no-time. Or worse; getting herself into a fight with any of the preps that would be prancing around the place like peacocks, showing off their garbs and gushing over each other’s hair-do's and whatnot. And that would hardly work wonders for her precarious return to Brooklake.

Therefore, in the end, she leaned more towards not going, unless of course she could get one of the guys to take her. She'd need a ride of her own, sort of, because between not wanting to get in the way of whatever private activities Lilith and Tyler might get up to, and not having a car of her own (courtesy of her cheapskate parents), she had no way of getting out of there when the time to leave rolled around. She sure as h*ll wasn't walking! Not in the middle of winter, when it was freezing outside. So yup, the way things were looking right now, she'd spend her Saturday night doing something else. She was okay with that, and thankfully, so was Lilith.

"Suit yourself", she just shrugged casually, instead of doing what other girls might have done, and getting miffed about it.

From there, the conversation then moved on to just their usual random chatter as they themselves moved into the cafeteria and progressed along the line of students, only to return to the topic of Tyler when just as they were sitting down to dig into their food, Lilith voiced what had seemed to be on her mind for the past couple of minutes;

"You know", she said. "I keep expecting Tyler to screw up somehow, but he just doesn't. I'm not used to that when it comes to guys I've banged."

Looking up from her food where she sat across the table from Lilith, Leigh studied her for a couple of seconds, as though her words had sent the darkhaired girl into her own momentary contemplations. To be perfectly honest, Lilith's comment kind of confused her. The part about expecting a guy to screw up, that she was familiar with, that part she got. As did she get the part about not being used to it. What she didn't get, was why Lilith brought it up. That would indicate that it was an issue of some kind, and... Knowing Lilith the way she did, to Leigh it was a sort of strange issue for her friend to have. Usually, Lilith seemed to just roll with a casual thing while it lasted, and when the guy did screw up, she'd just move on. She never did seem to think too much about it in the meantime, or anticipating the actual screw-up. But then again, considering it sounded as though it was now more a matter of if Tyler would screw up, rather than when, Leigh supposed that was what made this one different.

"But that's a good thing, isn't it?", she asked, while piercing a piece of tomato with her fork. "It's good to know not all guys are *ssholes. Right?"

Was he angry at Dylan? When Tara had asked him seconds ago, Tyler had answered that he wasn't, but... was that really the truth? After everything, was he really not angry at her? Or had he just said the first thing that came to mind in order to soothe the budding worry he'd seen in Tara's eyes as she'd looked up at him, at the prospect of her precious daddy getting upset? She may not have witnessed his temper flare all too many times, but the few times that she had, even when it hadn't been directed her, had made a strong impression on her. Tyler knew that, and he didn't like for her to have to see it, and so maybe he'd just told a little white lie just now, to keep her from getting anxious and scared?

Hmmm... No... Looking up at Dylan, and meeting her gaze as the look therein changed from initial surprise to cautious hope at his words, it wasn't anger he felt when he saw her face. There was bitterness and resentment to prick his heart, yes, over knowing that she had gotten what he hadn't, despite the two of them both having needed it. Over knowing that in the end, she had meant more to them then he had. But there wasn't actual anger.
Imagine that...
If it was news to Dylan, it was even more so to Tyler himself. He'd never really tried to analyze the situation, he'd never tried sorting out his feelings on the matter or tried to figure out who made him feel what. He'd just lumped it all together and branded it something he wasn't interested in touching even with a ten foot pole, and then been done with it. The anger and the hurt he'd felt, along with the bitterness and the unwillingness to have any of them in his life anymore, he'd figured had applied to all of them in equal amounts.

As it was turning out right now, maybe it wasn't all quite that simple? Or maybe it was just him being a sap, unable to keep a most justified grudge just because one of them was now sitting face to face with him for the first time in god knows how long, all sweet and claiming she wanted to mend the unmendable? Would he have reacted the same way, had it been Victor, or Iris?
He'd like to think that he wouldn't have. In fact, he was pretty sure he wouldn't have. He still remembered the few times when they'd contacted him, for whatever reason, and he remembered being far from pleased about it. He remembered the blood boiling in his veins at the sight of them, and nothing had really happened since then, that would have changed that.
No, facing them and facing Dylan were two different things, that infused him with different feelings. Related ones, but different. He wasn't angry at Dylan.

The discovery taking them both by surprise, a few seconds of complete silence followed in it's wake, as the two just looked at one another, and Tara's gaze kept darting curiously back and forth between them. Then, there suddenly emerged a faint smile on Dylan's lips, and she started cautiously;

"If you're not mad at me... Think you could give me a second chance?"

A second chance?
Tyler scoffed. But it wasn't in ridicule or dismissal, but rather in another bout of slight surprise and disbelief, at the irony of such a question. He'd never thought he'd hear any of them say something that would so blatantly indicate that something had been their fault, that it was their actions that had driven him to respond the way that he had, by withdrawing from them. Least of all Dylan, whose only "crime" was to be the one Victor focused on, and staying out of Tyler's way, as per his request.

Still, he could see where it might be heading, if he gave Dylan that second chance that she was asking him for. He had a feeling that with her came also Victor, and with Victor would soon come Iris, and... Tyler wasn't sure he liked that idea. They were doing fine, just him and Tara, and he didn't want Victor and Iris trying to get back into his life just because they found out they were grand parents. It would be history repeating itself all over again; it wouldn't be for him, it would be because of someone else. And he sure as h*ll didn't need that.
But, as for Dylan?
Studying her for a few moments in contemplative silence, Tyler finally opened his mouth;

"Think you can keep your mouth shut about Tara?", he countered. "To Victor and Iris, and everyone else?"

Everyone had this image of Josh Brennan that took two paths; he was either a mentally vacuous jock with no real sense or individuality to speak of, or that he was the ultimate nice guy without a backbone.
One group was more mistaken than the other, but they were both pretty wrong in their assessment of him. Sometimes, what someone is like it’s always obvious and if anything, that was what Josh carried on in his outlook with the world, and therefore, naturally, that was the case with him.

He wanted people to be happy, especially those he cared about. Just as he didn’t take pleasure in making someone miserable, he took no pleasure in watching someone be miserable, even if one was far, far more passive than the other. Therefore, Josh compromised. Eternally attuned to the feelings and needs of others, he did sometimes place them above himself, knowing what he could handle and put up with. He knew how to handle things and he had the patience to hang on long and well enough to direct things to a better solution than the immediate one. In fact, it was the song of his entire relationship with Matt; he handled all the freak-outs and the problems not because he was just nice and didn’t know what else to do, it was because he knew it was the best move to make.

Josh was no simpleton either. He knew he wasn’t the sharpest and most cunning young man, but he was far from an idiot or a walking moron. He knew when he was being manipulated, he knew when he was being used in someone else’s games, and thus, he knew how to keep himself out of the crossfire, to keep himself from being drawn into it. If and when Josh became involved in things – such as the hall fight involving Leigh and Abby – he did so knowingly, and willingly. He felt no need to parade around his intelligence and he was happy with that. So, he didn’t stray into the petty games and other little displays that his peers indulged in.

More than anything else, however, Josh Brennan was a man of principle. Yes, he was currently cheating on Marie and Matt, but that he deeply regretted and that didn’t mean he’d let himself be lured into further compromises of his integrity. On the contrary, in fact.
He knew what his stance was, and he resolved to stick by it.

"Don't you two have girlfriends? And here you are, sneaking down here to rub dicks behind their backs--if they knew about this, I wonder what they'd do," Esteban babbled on with his perceived idea of superiority and impatience and disinterest was beginning to wear onto Josh’s impassive expression. "It just breaks the heart, no?"

Josh figured the moron wanted something – after all, his need for attention and all that aggression meant he needed affirmation and deep down had illusions of inferiority pricking at him, so he was going to jump at the opportunity to do something about it – and he was checking down the list of the things he could want and right now, money stood out clearly. How much, then? How long before the next order?
However, what Esteban did say wasn’t what Josh expected.

"Break up with them,” he ordered sternly, crossing his arms over his chest and earning himself a questioning look from Josh. Tomorrow. In public. It's only fair, right?"
What did he care? What, was he jealous of their girlfriends? And wait, Matt didn’t even have a girlfriend, so... what the hell did he have to gain from that?

Nevertheless, Josh knew the repercussions of not submitting to Esteban, in regards to, and out of regards of Matt. If Josh didn’t immediately play ball, Matt would crash, and Esteban would blab anyway, and Matt would blame Josh for it, and though the secret would be out, the damage incurred wouldn’t be worth it. But the point remained that sometime during the line, Esteban would blow the horn and everyone was going to know. Just like Josh wanted.
But he wanted it to be done smoothly, and this socially inept retard wasn't going to be good for that - consciously or otherwise - and he'd probably handle it all with the finesse, stealth and sophistication of a gorilla. So, for Matt’s sake, the best decision was to give in, for now.

Except he wouldn’t, because outside of Matt, he owed loyalty to Marie, too, and not just because she was pregnant. Boyfriend or not, he was a friend to her, and he wasn’t going to dump her publically because of Esteban. When he did it, he’d do it honestly, and with as much consideration to her as possible. That wasn’t going to happen in this scenario.
Most of all though, Josh wasn’t going to give in to blackmail from a lowlife like Esteban. Not everyone plays the game the same way. So, it didn’t matter that Esteban was going to do it anyway, and probably do more damage like a bull in a China shop; Josh wasn’t going to play ball.
But Matt did, Matt would And Esteban would know the pull he had over him, and so when Josh refused to cooperate, Matt would bear the brunt of it all.
And Josh literally saw it coming.
Matt was a clever boy, but... handing over the reins to the lowlife like this, Josh knew it was a panicked decision, not really one truly born of his cunning.
But that said, it brought them time.

"Fine,” he spat out with disdain in inching closer, but not moving past Josh.
A few seconds barely passed and Josh’s stonelike stance broke, not contesting Matt’s decision; he’d put down his foot independently. And he’d deal with Matt separately. It wasn’t like Matt had consulted him before agreeing, was it?

“Do what you want,” he told Esteban with utter calm, crossing his arms. He wouldn't give in; Matt giving in bought them time, and one way to throw Esteban off was to show cracks in the surface, right? Besides, the fool, standing here prancing around like a f*cking pony, had no proof.
What was he going to say "Uh... I, uh... caught them talking in private. Fags." His and Matt's word was worth more than the loser's. That is, provided Matt kept himself from losing the f*cking plot.
“It’s not gonna happen.”

(((OOC: He’s going to have an aneurysm, isn’t he, Atropa?
Lol, hope it works!)))

"Oh...."

Donnie's face twitched in a semblance of surprise and sympathy for a moment before he forced it into its normal impassive state. And even then, a whirlwind of potential alternative scenarios scrolled through his mind and caused a slight furrow on his brow. When the first halfway plausible idea hit him, he opened his mouth to say something, reconsidered, realized it was stupid, and closed his mouth again. After a long, awkward silence, he finally said in a stiff and abnormally indecisive voice:

"...it's probably... school-related."

"Thanks for caring enough to lie," Jude replied.

"No, no, wait. Let's think this through," Donnie reeled back, mildly agitated at how transparent his previous response had been. He had to think on his feet now and pull out the good, old sophistry muscle for this. It might be intellectually dishonest, but generally Jude didn't have the acumen to notice. And besides, it was to make him feel better anyway. So really, it was all for his own good. Donnie quickly reformulated his arguments, organized them, and began pulling them from his ass.

"This is Katie we're talking about. Unless she's the Clark Kentonian alter ego of her other self, then her social intercourse has been... uh... modest. Nonexistent, even!" Donnie's eyes darted left and right as he spoke, a tiny quirk he picked up whenever he wondered if his own sophistry sounded passable enough. He decided it did, and continued with more confidence, "So, statistically speaking. Nothing happened." His eyes darted again. "Probably."


"It's not even cause I'm jealous or cause he looks like a grade-A asshole, or the possibility that they might be having sex. I was in love with her and she just forgot about me as soon as I was gone." Jude said as they moved forward in line. They finally reached the stacks of lunch trays and silverware, and as they finished placing napkin and fork on their trays and turned into the lunch line, a junior varsity football player who was shaped curiously similar to a refrigerator managed to shoulder-check Jude. The silverware on his tray rattled.

"Well..." Donnie started awkwardly as the jock left. They moved forward several spaces in the lunch line. "She remembered... your name, right?"

"Yeah, but she pretty much ran away from me yesterday when I saw her in class."

At that, Donnie snerked. "Jude, she pretty much runs away from any sort of social encounter that imposes itself on her. Don't take it personally. It was probably a knee-jerk reaction."




((gears - hope that works. i tried to keep descriptions of jude minimal so that you can flesh them out in your post if you like.

alissa - yup, that works for me. also, both you and atropa, will you guys let me know how long you want esteban down there harassing them in case you have any more post-discovery RPing you want to do between Matt/Josh only?))

(((ooc: robokitty - We have no real preference. Figure we'll just roll with it, and see where it goes. And anything that needs to be sorted out between Matt and Josh, we can just say happened afterwards, during the mini time jump. Though Matt probably won't let him leave before at least trying to make sure he won't spill. )))

Boy troubles; who would have ever thought that was something Lilith would have brought up? Usually - on the rare occasions when such girl talk happened between the two - it would be Leigh complaining about boys and how they were all just arrogant, egotistical pricks, after having had yet another unfortunate encounter with one ending badly. For while Lilith had her fair share of issues with them as well, her approach to it all tended to be of a more carefree and relaxed nature, that didn't get her all too worked up when things went awry. Yes, of course she could get angry too - and Leigh would have hated to be the guy that made her that way - but even so, she did still seem to have a tendency to move on a little sooner than Leigh did, and not dwell on such things for very long. If someone treated her badly, she reacted, dumped their *ss, and then went on her way. It was almost as though she took it to be simply a natural development - as proven by her statement just now - whereas Leigh was just ever so slightly more prone to get upset, and rant about it. At least for a little while.

This was why, when Lilith did bring up Tyler and her apprahensions regarding her... whatever it was she had going on with him, it took Leigh somewhat by surprise, as she would have never expected such a conversation to arise.
But, here they were, discussing it.

"Yeah, I guess", Lilith replied with a light shrug. "He's a cool guy. As a friend, and yeah, he's pretty good in bed too. But you already knew that."

Seeing the smirk painted on her lips at that particular comment, Leigh couldn't help but to smile herself. It felt weird, to think that they'd both been with the same guy, at occasions not all too spaced in time, but she had to admit, she could but agree. Tyler Young was indeed pretty good in bed. Not at all like many of those other selfish bastards, who only saw to it to get what they wanted out of a roll in the hay. Unlike most of those, Tyler knew how to last long enough, not to mention cared enough to do so, too.

"Anyway", Lilith continued, "what I mean to say is, we get along, and I like things the way they are: nice and uncomplicated, but you know how it goes: good things always come to an end. Even if we manage not to piss one another off, Ty isn't like me: sooner or later he'll start dating someone, or he'll get bored, or something."

Leigh gave a slow, thoughtful nod. That was true. Tyler did seem to be the relationship type. Sort of. Though she wouldn't be able to put her finger on what exactly it was that made her think he was. She knew he'd had his casual encounters - she and Lilith both were among them - but... He just wasn't chasing tail like most of the other guys in school, that were part of their general crowd. He just seemed more relaxed and mature about it all, and yup, in a way, that did seem to spell committment.
But... why was that an issue to Lilith? Sure, it'd most likely put an end to whatever intimate encounters she was having with Tyler, but she'd never been lacking potential lovers, nor was she likely to, just because Tyler might get himself a girlfriend.

"So, you're saying you'd like to keep him as a f*** buddy?", Leigh thus questioned, glancing up at her readheaded friend over her tray. "Who's to say you don't get bored with him first?"

After all, put bluntly, wasn't it Lilith who was the one known for switching partners more frequently than Tyler did? So then why the concern? It wasn't as though they couldn't remain friends, even if he did start dating someone, and so that, to Leigh, indicated that it might be the other side of their "friendship" that Lilith didn't want to lose, for some reason.
But maybe she was just reading too much into it all.


(((ooc: Ghani - Hope it works. Let me know if you need more to go on.)))

"Shut up!" Matt hissed, clear as day showing the difference between him and his butt buddy.

To Esteban, the idea of getting it on with another guy was revolting. At least Matt seemed to get it, and he had the right sense of shame for it, like he should. Josh, on the other hand, was one of those nasty, in-your-face f**s. And from the looks of it, he didn't much care if their dirty laundry got aired out, splooge stains and all.

When Matt spits out "Fine," Esteban smirks broadly, inwardly gleeful.

"Do what you want. It's not gonna happen." Josh replies calmly, refusing to let him get under his skin.

Frankly, Esteban didn't care about bitch queen getting dumped that much. It'd be amusing to see, but that's all. No, what he really cared about was knowing that Matt was going to break Sienna's treacherous little heart, knowing it was because of him. Because he made him do it.

And Esteban knew her, the little slut. She'd probably come back to him, crying and insecure and looking for some sexual healing. And even if she got on her knees and begged him to use her, he was going to say NO.

God. DAMN. It was going to feel awesome.

What DID bother Esteban though was that this shameless f**boy didn't know how to f***ing follow directions. But at least it looked like he could use it to drive a wedge between them and f*** with them more.

He backs up a couple steps to the door like he's getting ready to leave and smirks, "Guess I'll have to go tell Marie then."

Before he starts turning to leave, Esteban grabs eye contact with Matt, motioning his head at Josh. "He doesn't really give a shit what you think, huh?" He shakes his head in mocking sympathy and tsks again, "You must think his dick is really tasty to stick around a jerk like that."

Matt Sidle wasn't a quitter. It was a label that had never been associated with his name, in any field, because he wasn't the type to ever just give up. Not in his social life, whether it was a matter of pursuing a certain girl, or getting even with someone who had somehow wronged him, and most certainly not on the track, of which the latter had been proven quite aptly during the school championships last semester: Just the day before his most important race, Matt had suffered a muscle contusion during practice, due to a hard collision with another runner, who'd been too busy waving at his girlfriend on the bleachers to look where he was going. He'd slammed right into Matt and sent them both tumbling down, though escaped himself with only a bruised ego, while Matt suffered a somewhat more serious injury. But not only had he still participated in the race the following day, despite the muscle contusion in his right thigh, and the pain it caused him, but he'd also easily nabbed second place, and pushed the winner to the point of exhaustion in the process, much to the delight of coach Benwick and most of Brooklake's student body.

Indeed, Matt Sidle wasn't a quitter.
But that wasn't the same thing as being unable to realize when he was beat, and better off accepting defeat. The difference was considerable, and while he wasn't one to just roll over and play dead when defeated - one could still remain proud and dignified while accepting defeat, and not offer it up without a fight - there were times when it would be the better option to do so, in order to minimize the damage it could do if one decided to be stubborn. There were times when you just couldn't win, and when fighting wasn't just useless, but downright detrimental.

The way Matt saw it, this was one such time; with Esteban Morales of all people having seen him and Josh together, and having jumped to rash but at least somewhat correct assumptions (minus all the... perverted stuff), there was no use in trying to fight back. He had them by the throat, and arguing or talking back would only provoke him and give him even more incentive to spill. Even if Matt and Josh just denied it, Matt still knew the devastating power of the rumour mill, and he knew how badly some people wanted dirt on both him and Josh for being popular, and would just jump at the chance of helping to sully their reputations. He knew that if his and Josh's common friends started thinking back and analyzing, Marie-Elisabeth especially, there would be things that had happened over the past few months, that would seem odd, things that would seem to fit whatever claims Esteban would be making. One such thing had even happened just the other day, courtesy of Josh, when he'd interrupted Matt's flirting with Abby, and then later called him over to help demonstrate that tackle to the rest of the football team. In light of whatever Esteban told people, those things would start making an awful lot of sense to everyone. It didn't matter that those things might just be coincidental, the power they possessed when used to start or back up a rumour, was if not unstoppable, then the closest thing to it. Matt himself had used such small details when bringing other people down. He if anyone knew the effect they could have.

So, when Esteban made his demands, Matt gave in. Not willingly, and nowhere even close to merrily, but he did give in, because the way he saw it, him and Josh were being backed up against a wall, and the only way to maybe make it out, was to humour the enemy, and give him no reason to prepare the firing squad that was the rest of the student body.
Though as it would turn out, that was a strategy that was entirely lost on Josh.

"Do what you want", the blue-eyed boy calmly replied to Esteban, as though it didn't bother him in the least to throw both himself and Matt to the wolves. "It's not gonna happen."

He might as well have just sucker punched Matt right in the gut instead, because those were words that practically slammed the very air out of his lungs. He felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest, and leapt into his throat all at the same time, and he could but stare at Josh in utter shock, and panic. What was he doing?! Was he insane?! Why would he say something like that?! Why was he turning on Matt?! Why was he selling him out?! He knew how much Matt dreaded even just the thought of all this getting out, and now he was practically telling Esteban to go shout it from the rooftops?! Matt was trying to solve this, and Josh completely blindsided him! Why?!

Out of the corner of his widened eyes, he saw Esteban's form shift, and his gaze instantly flicked over to him instead, seeing to his horror how the other boy was backing towards the door, in preparation to leave.

"Guess I'll have to go tell Marie then", he announced, with smugness painted on his face in the form of a satisfied smirk, as though Josh had just given him exactly the excuse that he wanted, in order to spill what Matt was desperately trying to make him shut up about.

Matt tried to protest, he really did, but not a single word would come out. Not even a simple measly "no" was he able to produce. It just stuck in his throat.
And then, Esteban's eyes turned to him.

"He doesn't really give a shit what you think, huh?", he said, indicating Josh with a motion of his head. "You must think his dick is really tasty to stick around a jerk like that."

Again Matt flinched at the sound of such a sharp, cutting insinuation of what Esteban thought was going on. What soon everyone would think was going on. The words felt like a veritable slap across the face, and before his inner vision, that ad that Natalie had used to taunt him only a little while earlier, surfaced. Once again it hit him with a force that almost made him stagger back, that everyone would think he actually did that, that he actually took another guy's... and...

"I haven't-...!", he blurted out. "I'd never-...!"

But as he couldn't even bring himself to say it, let alone do it, his voice died abruptly, and after drawing a shaky but quick breath - he didn't want to give Esteban a single second too long, in fear that he might leave - he started over, while trying to calm himself:

"Wait", he said. "Just... wait."

He drew yet a little bit closer, though still kept his distance, only this time more from Josh than from Esteban, almost as though he was dissociating himself from the blue-eyed boy. Just like the blue-eyed boy had dissociated himself from Matt seconds earlier, through his invitation for Esteban to ruin Matt's life.

"Look, I...", he started, but interrupted himself as once again his voice died, at a lack of knowing what he was trying to say. But only a second later, he managed to will himself into continuing, and urgently and pointedly finishing; "I agreed. You can't just... You can't."

(((OOC: Just to say that Josh'll be sitting out this round, so it's your turn, Robokitty. I hope that's okay?
This post will be updated with Dylan soon)))

Esteban would've loved to draw it out longer, to torment Matt even more, but with his f***ing rock and pillar nearby chances were that he wouldn't be able to dig deep. No, it'd be better to get Matt alone later and extort him for whatever the hell he wanted, and that way he'd get at them both. Esteban could tell that Josh thought he was dirt--lower than dirt even. So typical of these rich f*****s. Anything Esteban said would bounce off him. So, Josh would keep stonewalling like the big, dumb huevon he was, and Matt would have to bear the brunt of the slack. Josh would suffer by conscience and by the lover's quarrel he was about to set in motion.

"I haven't-...! I'd never-...!"

Right. Esteban didn't really give a shit about what actually happened or whatever this flamer might or might not never do, but he loved watching him squirm, and so he dismisses him with barely a snort and starts leaving again.

"Wait. Just... wait." Matt staggers forward with sheer desperation on his face, and in a grand act of magnanimity Esteban pauses again, relishing every second of it. "Look, I...I agreed. You can't just... You can't."

"You better talk some sense into your butt buddy then," Esteban says, his wide smirk fading to a hard line as though his mind has reached a final conclusion. He swings the door open behind him and steps through. "Cuz you got until tomorrow."

And with that, he leaves. His lips curl wickedly. Holy s***, that was awesome.

((OOC: hope that works. let me know otherwise.

gears, that works fine... i'll take care of the rest, and good luck with everything tomorrow ))

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that there wouldn't be rehearsal today. There would be a bunch of sophomores and juniors who just went for the experience of auditioning, and didn't expect to get a part so they didn't check the list. There would be people from the last play claiming they deserved a day off and that no one did anything at first rehearsal. Maybe Loren's certitude had something to do with the fact that rehearsals always started days after the list went up, but its doubtful.

With that critically important issue settled, and with no comment coming at any speed from his dining partner, his mind inevitably went back to what had been obsessing it all morning, more from the fact that someone wearing the same hair style walked by than any sort of preoccupation.

And now that he was thinking about it again, maybe it wasn't the best idea to just be freindly and romantic. There was only one play he was basing all of that on, as opposed to the huge stack of plays with guys who failed to get the girl when she wasn't interested, and the even larger stack of plays that had the girl have some romantic notions towards him in the first place.

He knew that there wasn't some other romantic interest waiting in the wings, it'd be pretty crazy if there was, so he needed advice from someone who knew exactly what the problem was. Someone he could trust, and who was extremely worldly. Lacey met the one, but not the other, which left only one person to ask...

He got up with a far away look on his face and was walking towards Cynthia to ask her what he should do about Natalie, but then he remembered that she really didn't want him talking to her during school. He wasn't quite sure why, but if it made her happy then it was easy enough to do for his favorite cousin.

He breezed right on by that table and out of the cafeteria, and went over to the gym. There was a freshman gym class in there now, and he knew several girls who hated gym, acted well, and held him in high enough regard to deliver a note for him.

He walked into the gym and put his backpack on the floor and sat on a gym mat, pulling out a sheet of notebook paper and waving at one of the freshman. She came over, in a sweaty and deeply amused state just as he finished writing a note to Cynthia.

He folded the paper up and handed it to Jenny, telling her that he was trying to hunt down someone named Cynthia Medina for a school project, and could she please give this note to her. Jenny agreed quite readily, and rushed out of the gym in her gym uniform, ratty tennis shoes, and wide pig tails.

He grinned as he made his way back to the library. This was definitely what Cynthia had meant about being unobtrusive. He felt positively ninja-like about the whole thing, and he got Jenny out of gym class! It was a triple win, and he tended not to be good at that. He wandered over to the manga section, figuring that Cynthia would think that that was the first place to look for him.

((OOC: robokitty, hope that's okay with you?))

Jude continued as he grabbed his plate from the lunch lady. "So, you're saying she ran away from me because it was more convenient for her, and her and that guy were discussing school stuff in the janitor's closet and in the basement..."

Gosh, it sounded really bad when Jude said it that way, and for a moment Donnie felt irritated that Jude seemed so reluctant to accept his reasoning. It never occurred to Donnie that Jude might simply want a shoulder to cry on or a friend to nod and sympathize. Such emotional gestures accomplished nothing. It was better to solve problems than to mope about them. So, Donnie insisted:

"No, I'm saying she ran away because it's her Pavlovian response to conversation! And, uh... given that... maybe she needed to be in a small, enclosed space with that guy to.. uh... actually TALK to him...." It was frustrating. Donnie felt like he was talking in circles, and his eyes darted once more before he insisted again, "Look, nothing probably happened."

Jude seemed to sense Donnie's growing sense of frustration and he finally ceded, "OK, you're right. I'm just stressing over nothing, it's not like I was expecting a welcome wagon or anything."

Donnie nodded, feeling a sense of accomplishment for helping Jude with his problem. However, at the back of his mind the victory rang hollow somehow, and he wished there was something more he could do. He slid his tray down the counter, and the lunch lady jiggled a spoonful of limp spaghetti at Donnie, offering it to him.

"Did she like ever ask you about me while I was gone?"

Donnie shook his head at the lunch lady, refusing the noodles, then stiffened and wondered if Jude noticed and took it the wrong way.

"Never mind, don't answer that. I'm just letting her get under my skin. I just need to forget about her."

Donnie suppressed a frown. Jude clearly had not bought his sophistry, and if he wanted to help him out he'd have to take more drastic measures. Why Jude was fixated on Katie, Donnie had no idea. Sure, she was smart and kind of cute, but she had this frigid, elitist nature that rubbed Donnie the wrong way, the same way that a dog looking in a mirror growled at its own reflection.

"Do you think she has a date to the dance yet?"

Donnie caught himself before he snorted, thought for a second, and said flatly, "If her prevous record at school dances is any indication... no."

Donnie was pleased to sense a relaxing in Jude's composure at that moment. Maybe if he could maneuver Jude into a situation with Katie, he would ask her out to the dance and gain closure on this matter? He thought of ways he could manipulate Jude into approaching Katie, when Jude changed the conversation in Donnie's direction.

"You're going to the dance. Are you taking anyone special? And I don't mean Tim the Enchanter."

Donnie's brow scrunched and he shot Jude a skeptical look. The only purpose of going was to collect data for the school newspaper. And given the pool of female students attending Brooklake, why on earth would Donnie be interested in any of them?

"Umm... no." Donnie assured. A thoughtful look crossed his face, and he observed, "You're the second person to ask me that."

"Did the lunch lady ask you?" Jude asked slyly. Donnie was about to say no, but then realized that this was banter.

"Jealous?"

"Well, I am a sucker for hairnets..."

"They're like fishnets, except more classy," Donnie finished and looked up at the lunch lady's glare. He assessed the consequences of pissing off someone responsible for handling one's food and decided it was prudent to leave now. Once they had passed the lunch lady, Donnie continued:

"Actually, Nora asked me about it. You know, the girl who works at the school store?"

"So, did she ask you in a making conversation way; in a let's go since neither of us have dates way; or in a please ask me to go with you so we can dance and get married and have babies way?"

Get married and have babies.

Donnie could not control the visceral response he had as soon as Jude uttered those words, and his nose crinkled with disgust. Taking everything literally, his brain went into overload at the thought that any girl would want babies. They were like completely useless, larval parasites that only knew how to cry, drool, defecate, sleep, and interrupt careers. What's worse, there was this ridiculous social expectation to coo over how cute they were. Cute! And people got offended when you said they weren't! Is that what Nora really wanted?

And besides, Nora didn't fit the criteria for what he was looking for in a girlfriend. She didn't think of him romantically did she? No, that didn't seem likely. After all, it was clear Donnie would eventually attend an ivy-league institution and Nora's unremarkable academic record slated her for a different destination. Surely, she had the common sense to see that?

No, It was better not to think of it because relationships only provided short-term emotional fulfillment. In the long term, the phase of limerence would ultimately end or be destroyed by the impossibilities of a long distance relationship.

A moment later, Donnie realized that Jude was babbling, and that he was over-analyzing the situation. Stiffly, placed a bag of carrots and peanuts on his tray and decided not to think about it any more. He muttered, "She was probably just making conversation."

The two nerds exited the lunch line and into the cafeteria when Jude halted and warned, "Donnie, jocks. Eleven o-clock and closing in."

Donnie's posture stiffened like a peacock's, aware of all possible danger from all possible angles. He tried to act cool and whispered, "Just don't make eye contact." He acted naturally. "And act naturally."

Jude nodded, "Got it.. natural.. no eye contac--shit! They saw us."

"Oh balls."

They turned and huddled by the trash can. Donnie flipped through his mental playbook of evasive maneuvers, and after a second of hasty thinking, he said, "Okay... let's do Operation Leeroy Jenkins, you pull the big one, and I'll--"

"Wait wait wait... why do I have to do Leeroy Jenkins? First of all, it never works out for one of us," Jude pointed to himself and continued complaining, "and it was only really fun that one time... until I had to dig myself out of the dumpster."

Donnie huffed, "Well, I can't use Tim the Enchanter since I already used it once this week, and he's got cooldown timer because there's only so much leeway I get with the voltage technicality on Tim's 'being a dangerous weapon' thing. Stupid Maltby."

"Let's try something a little more effective like Ewoks Defeat the Empire," Jude suggested.

Donnie snorted. "That would never work in real life. Besides, there isn't enough stuff to knock over between us and them." Donnie scanned the area. The jocks were getting closer. He spotted a group of band nerds who had just finished paying for their lunches. Perfect! Band nerds were about as low on the food chain as they were and would make a good distraction.

"Look," Donnie whispered, "There's a group of band kids coming out of the lunch line together. Let's just Zerg them and hope they miss us."

Jude nodded, and in a forced attempt at a nonchalant walk, they waltzed over to the group of band nerds and intermingled into the herd. The jocks were fifteen feet away. Ten. Five. Donnie avoided eye contact, and the two groups passed by one another. Donnie was about to sigh in relief when he heard the crinkle of a bag of chips falling on the floor.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jude stop to pick up the bag he'd dropped, and as he stood up he bumped into one of the jocks. The jock smirked at him, stuck his grubby fingers into Jude's spaghetti, and deposited it directly into Jude's breast pocket. Another one of the jocks circled behind Jude and was about to give him an epic wedgie when one of the hall monitors watching the lunch room blew her whistle three times and pointed at the jock. They all held their hands up apologetically and walked away, but not before giving Jude a hard pat on his breast pocket and smushing the spaghetti into his shirt.

After the jocks left, Donnie joined up with Jude again and mumbled, "Man, that sucks. At least you don't have to eat it now." Jude seemed really down, and Donnie didn't know what else to say.

They dropped off the snacks at Cynthia's table, and the girls, normally inclined to fits of giggling, seemed to giggle even more when they saw Jude's pocket of spaghetti. Before they left, Cynthia gave Jude a slight squeeze on his elbow and said, "You're so sweet! Thanks!"

As they left the prep table it erupted in giggles again. Donnie spotted Katie sitting by herself.

"Hold on, I actually need to talk to Katie about something. Let's sit with her for a little bit," Donnie lied, and on their way over he formulated a plan to give Jude some time to talk alone with Katie. At least then Jude could talk to her some more and figure out his position with her.

Donnie slid his rather empty lunch tray onto the table next to Katie, fully aware that his proximity in choosing the seat next to her was probably alarming when there were plenty of empty seats around her to choose from. Jude took a seat as well. Donnie set his bag on the table and asked her casually:

"Hey, Benetti's been asking if you're joining Mathletes this year. Have you seen the new registration form?"

He was lying. There was no new registration form; therefore, Katie could not have seen it. She would probably say no and ask about it.

"I had his class yesterday and he didn't mention another form," Katie replied.

Inwardly, Donnie's gaze narrowed. Outwardly, he prattled on unflagged, "That's strange. He mentioned it to me this morning. Oh well, you know he's been a little crazed about it ever since Rana's 'recursively enumerable set' problem last year." He rolled his eyes the way that friends do when they're around each other.

"I'm sure," Katie replied and turned away.

Donnie felt his blood pressure raise a little. He had no idea what Jude saw in her, but he reminded himself to let the slight slide off his back. If Katie wanted to be dismissive, then at least Jude would get closure one way, and he would've saved a good friend from making a horrible mistake with a horrible girl.

"He probably doesn't think he's sufficiently remunerated for all the trouble." Donnie said, continuing the facade of friendliness. He picked up a carrot stick and chewed on it thoughtfully. "Well, I better get you the new registration form before Benetti gives himself an aneurysm."

Donnie stood up and walked away before Jude could say anything. He left his bag on the table, forcing Jude to stay and watch over his bag and forcing Katie to stay until he returned with the registration form. He strolled out of the cafeteria, thinking of what he'd say to Benetti in order to convince him that there was indeed a new registration form and hoping that Katie and Jude both had enough social etiquette to stay put until his return.





((OOC: Whew, very long post here... I was mostly just trying to get everything done and move along, so it's a bit sloppy! Hopefully it all makes sense

FurryPanda - yup, that works))

"You better talk some sense into your butt buddy then. Cuz you got until tomorrow."

Those words, and the heavy clang of the door as it fell shut behind Esteban, kept echoing in Matt's head, over and over again, as he stood staring blindly at it in shock, while body and mind were being racked by the squall of thoughts and feelings raging within him over what had just transpired. They raced through him, darted back and forth within him so fast that his head was spinning and he couldn't make sense of anything. The only sound to shatter the silence left in Esteban's wake were his own shivering breaths as he struggled for control of himself. He didn't understand what had just happened. He didn't understand how Josh could just turn so completely on him. He'd all but stabbed Matt in the back, by refusing to humor the person that held a f*cking sword over both their necks! Why?! And what if Matt couldn't make him change his mind, like Esteban had demanded of him? He had to, but what if he couldn't? It wasn't as though Josh seemed to actually care. He hadn't even seemed the least bit concerned about kicking Matt while he was down. On the contrary, he'd done it without even blinking!
What the hell was going on?!!

For the past couple of months, Josh had been claiming to feel guilty over "cheating" on Marie with Matt, yet when given the perfect excuse to dump her, he refused! He refused, and instead sold Matt out completely, in order to stick with her! If that didn't prove that everything he'd been saying when arguing how him and Matt shouldn't have to sneak around anymore was just utter bullsh*t, Matt didn't know what would! Josh clearly preferred Marie-Elisabeth, so why should Matt even begin to consider going public with this mess, like Josh had been nagging him to do?! In what way would that make anything better, or easier, like Josh had claimed it would? It would just leave Matt completely exposed, like he'd known it would, and Josh obviously happily playing house with his precious girlfriend! Thank God Matt had never even considered agreeing to it!

Not that it mattered now... It was all shot to Hell anyway, thanks to Josh! The least he could have done was to agree anyway, even if he didn't intend to go through with it, because at least that would have bought them time to figure something out! But noooooo, Dumbo over there had to practically push Esteban out of the room and up the stairs to tell everyone! Matt was surprised he hadn't handed that bastard a megaphone while he was at it!

How could this happen?!

Though no sooner had the question started reverberating in his head, than something suddenly hit him, hard. In a flash everything made sense. Pure and perfect sense, as though the universe had just simply handed him the answer. The way that Josh had been opting for himself and Matt to go public with this sordid affair. The way that Esteban had just so very conveniently walked in on an encounter that Josh had set up. The way that he had made his demands, and how Josh had refused to give in to them without even blinking, thus challenging Esteban to spill. It all made sense!

Slowly, Matt turned his head to stare at Josh, nailing him to the wall with his piercing gaze, his usually chocolate brown eyes having darkened with pitch black fury.

"You *sshole!", he hissed in cutting accusation. "You set me up!"

Name: Deborah Jensen
Age/Class: (automatically 16/Junior)
Clique: Achiever
After School Activity: Work
Brief History/Personality Description:
If you witness Deborah evolving outside of her family, you could guess that she is one of these fortunate kids who has got the all universe conspired to give them all the assets some would badly need and that life must have been an easy road for her. The dream child of every parent is the word that comes in mind when you first see her. She's not only pretty but also talented, witty, mature, responsible, easy to get along with and her academics scores never dropped under B. But few knows that behind this engaging smile lies a secretive and tormented girl whose existence was far from being golden.

Born in a loving family, the little Deborah yet seemed predestined with happiness. Her father was a freelance journalist, her mother a successful photograph and they all lived a quiet and simple life. Unfortunately, their existence tipped over when Lucas, her 2 years-old little brother was diagnosed with Duchenne muscular dystrophy, a painful, rare and deadly disease. On a Wednesday morning, without any kind of explanation or any notice, Deborah's mother, unable to face his son's illness, ran away leaving her husband and her 12 years old daughter dealing with the situation. Nothing would never be the same after this day. The young Deborah, unable to understand her mother's abandon, blamed herself. She felt like it was her fault, that in some way she was not good enough for her mother to have a reason to stay. Her father, Keith, became the shadow of its own self, going through life as if nothing mattered anymore, providing his kids material assistance but buried too deep into his own sorrow to understand his kid's cry for help. Deborah took on herself to take care of her brother, assuming step by step her mother's role, taking care of them, oblivious of herself and her needs.

The only way to slow the progress of this disease is to pay highly fees of physical therapy and treatments that they couldn't afford. Several years later, riddled with debts, they had to sell their house and move to a new city where an old friend of Keith accepted to rent them at a friendly price a crappy apartment. Deborah hasn't really accepted to have to leave once more people that matters to her, the departure from all she ever cared about. And even if she hides it for her family's sake, all these feelings that she's been burying all these years are now a time-bomb ready to explode.

Anything else you might want to add: (Could be a phobia, whether they are a new student or transfer, or any other random tidbits of interest.)
She is transferred from a NY school and she's working after school as a waitress to help her father pay off his debts.
She strives for perfection and allow herself few leisures. The one activity that she does for herself behind her father's back is photography. It's her way of expressing her feelings.

Picture:


((ooc: open to storylines ))

It was a morning, just like the others. As usual, the flow of her thoughts was submerging her within the weight of all her responsibilities. But the unappealing prospects of this particular day made her even less eager to answer to the stabbing call emitted by her alarm-clock. Deborah just wanted to go back to this unconscious state that surrounded her the moment just before. She squeezed harder her eyelids in a desperate attempt to clear her mind from all this sudden nuisance and fall back into sleep.Think about nothing, just nothing. It proved to be quite successful and even the familiar music of her alarm-clock seamed to be melting into a virgin state of mind until a different kind of sound reached her ears.

This, she couldn't ignore.

She finally opened her eyes and smiled at the little curly head who was staring impatiently at her at the other side of the bed. The child smiled back and throw his arms at her. She sat distressingly and while her right hand was mechanically trying to clean up the mess that the night had made of her hair, retorted:

" You know what the doctor said. You have to walk to get better"

"But it hurts"

His childish voice enunciated this in such a manner with the perfect nuance of blaming that it made all resolution she had to stay firm vanished as soon as it was out.

She sighed :

“Alright, don't need to make your puppy eyes. I'm going to carry you to the kitchen. But just this time!”.

And a few moment later, the child was drawn up to a sawbuck table that was called alternatively the kitchen table, the living-room table and occasionally the desk, in front of a plate of delicious hot pancakes sprayed with maple syrup. Act I was played now was time for act II.

Deborah reluctantly made her way to a small door and opened it, revealing a fuzzy shape lying down on a mattress eclectically disposed directly on the floor. She couldn't help but feel a burst of anger seizing her while she was looking at him. She wanted to yell at him to move his fat ass, grab him and shake him, finally get something out of him no matter what, anything!
Repressing this urge, she cleared her throat:

“ Dad?”

A moaning indicated that he acknowledged her presence.

“ Breakfast is ready...”

Knowing that she would get no further answer, she sighed once more and came back to the main room. As usual, she would have the time to get a cold shower and even get her and her brother ready for school before he even got out of his bedroom. So typical of him. So irritating. She sometimes wondered what would happened if she wasn't here. Would he even realize it? He'll probably notice her absence after some time but realizing it would imply that he would care and sometimes it didn't seem like he did.

This morning was no different than any other morning and when he finally joined them she was helping her brother to thread his coat. Deborah barely looked at him:

“Lucas is ready. Don't forget to bring him to his therapy session at 6, the address is on the fridge. I gotta go or I'll be late to school”.

But as she put her hand on the handle of the door, the man huskily mumbled:

“ It's your first day?”

A little bit taken aback by this unexpected question, she faced him hesitantly:

“Yes, it is. Why?”.

He gave her a faint smile:

“ Make me proud”

More expectations, that's all he had to offer. Without a word, she left.



Lies, lies and more lies. Everything was lies. That's all her life was about now. Lying once more to escape this mad house that made her suffocating. Lying when she said that she was late for school while she was only expected on the afternoon. Deborah roamed the streets of Brooklake carrying in her bag, buried under her scholar stuff, her precious camera until her path finally led her to the high-school. Here it was at last, and she was really curious to see who and what was behind these doors. Equipping mechanically her camera she began scanning the exterior of her new school searching for an interesting subject to shoot.

((ooc: This was my first English rp so I hope it's ok and there's not too many errors. If there's anything to change, pm me and I'll make the changes. I didn't know if someone was still approachable but Deb is off course approachable and open to story-lines etc ))

(((ooc: lanawinst - Let me be the first to wish you a warm welcome. Glad you decided to join. And everything looks great. Very nice first post.)))