So, the last time I updated was in January. First I had reasons, then excuses, then the end of school started approaching. The reason I wrote the last couple pages is pretty stupid (but hey, at least it happened). I was reading this awesome Raven/Beast Boy fic and it was only two chapters long. And I was irritated because it ended on a cliffy. So I checked to see when it was last updated, which was some time in January. I was a bit huffy after that until I realized that that was essentially what I had done.
So I wrote the remaining three pages, was nearly late to running, (yeah Cross-Country summer pre-practice practice), and hunted down my betas.
Oh and if you don't like the introduction of Habshi and Kahlo, know this. I was planning to a ask a guy to prom in the same way that Kahlo asked Habshi. Only, my prospect had the nerve to ask someone sophomore from another school (which didn't work out Yay!). So, my theory upon writing this was: It's Going To Work Somewhere, If Only In My Head.
Basically, I don't do fruitless/unrequited romances (at least in writing). I'm still quite capable of writing rotten, unhappy endings. However, just know that there will probably be a happy ending lurking somewhere on my hard-drive. It just won't get posted. Or there will be a sequel. But anyways.
Oh and if anyone wants to see the paper with the questions that I refer to, I can email to you. Because I am awesome and actually have it on my hard drive. I do so love my pack rat tendencies.
This has not been betaed. Well, it has, I just haven't gotten any of the betaed versions back. The main problem appears to be computers and the predilection for jumping of the ends of the earth that all of my betas seem to have. So, I went back over this again (I normally edit as I add the spaces between paragraphs). I caught a lot of weird words and minor errors.
Oh, and Kärki is based off of the awesome AP English teacher I had this year. Unfortunately, I haven't seen him since May (he disappeared the week before the AP test). I'm sure he would've been slaughtered by all three classes of Neurotic AP Students, had it not been for the fact that he managed to do something horrible to his back, get an infection, and land himself in the hospitable. He enjoys mispronouncing certain people's names and would definitely use the nickname "twin-sin."
But yeah, clears throat the moment you've been waiting five months for…. drumrolllllllllll:
CHAPTER SIX
I walk slowly through the hallway and into the small courtyard. There's still a few straggling bunches of students exiting the classrooms, but most are already gathered in groups out in high school's main quad. I stand by one of the pillars framing the courtyard and wait for Russell or Winry, if she's forgiven me. Not that that's likely or anything.
I look out across the small bit of campus I can see. Students are still chatting in clusters and a few are beginning to walk off towards their classes. I happen to glance over at the science building and I spot Envy and his friends. He's grinning and when the geeky boy, I think his name is Fuery, says something, Envy laughs.
I blush and duck my head, though there's no way he can see me. When I look up again, he's arguing with Roy. He takes a step forward and a hand suddenly appears on his shoulder. A tall, dark-haired girl steps from the shadows. She looks vaguely familiar, but I can't remember who she is. She doesn't fit with Envy's group. They're all wearing red, black, and white, whereas she's clad in a dark pink striped shirt with writing on the front, classy jeans, and elegant heels.
She saws something to him and he looks right at me. I freeze. Even though I can't make out his eyes at this distance I'm still caught in his stare.
"She's really something," Russell says, suddenly materializing by my shoulder. I nearly jump out of my skin. I didn't even hear him approach.
"Wha—huh?"
Russell smirks and jerks his head towards Envy.
I raise an eyebrow. Surely, Russell's not referring to Envy. I mean, he has to know that Envy's a guy by now, or at the very least, that it's not smart to call Envy a girl. Personally, I thought Russell learned his lesson freshman year when he tried to hit on Envy and Envy hit him. Hard. Several times. And kicked him for good measure.
"Sloth," Russell says dreamily. I look back at Envy and sure enough, Sloth is there, talking with Envy and the other girl.
"Ah," I say, feigning understanding. How Russell's feelings towards Sloth can, in the space of a day, go from indifference to disturbingly slavish devotion is beyond me. However, the inner workings of Russell's brain are beyond most people (and most people try to keep it that way) and he might only be attracted to her because of her teenaged vamp look. That or he sees Sloth as attractively bottled Winry-deterrent. Either one is possible.
"Yeah, she likes owls."
Where did that come from?
Is he stoned or something?
I check Russell's pupils—they're normal looking. He doesn't look concussed, so I rule out adverse encounters with Winry's wrench.
"Oh?" I say, raising both eyebrows. "And how do you know this?"
"I have my sources," Russell says before flipping his hair and looking away.
"Right," I mutter and scowl at him.
"Fine, Fletcher told me that Al told him that Wrath said in Biology that his sister liked owls."
I resist the urge to bang my head against the pillar. Russell must be completely obsessed with Sloth if he's already pumped Fletcher for any and all information concerning her. Winry is so going to kill Russell when she hears about this.
"Ed!"
"Russell!"
We both turn as our siblings hurry towards us.
"You'll never guess—"
"I can't believe that Mr. Armstrong would really make you run an extra four miles if you didn't dress down," Fletcher whines. I smile sympathetically. That only happened to me once and even then Armstrong took pity on me. Only because I really did forget my PE clothes and, NOT, as Russell likes to believe, because I started stuttering halfway through my explanation and almost cried. Russell likes to think that Armstrong has a weakness for small cute things. Not that he's right or anything.
"What excuse did you give him?" Russell inquires.
"I told him I'd forgotten my combination to the lock Mom bought and that she'd be real mad if he cut it off."
I roll my eyes. The excuse is creative, but not believable.
"And?" I ask.
"He didn't believe me."
"Next time, do what Ed did and," Russell says with a smug smile. "Tell him that you forgot your clothes at home and pretend you're going to start crying soon. It's the only thing that's been proven to work."
"Russell, Armstrong's not st-st-stupid," I stutter. "He's going t-t—to check his llllllocker."
I silently apologize to Fletcher for not attempting his name. Al keeps telling me that he thinks I don't like him because of it. I don't want Fletcher to think that, but his name is nearly impossible for me to say. F and l sounds are bad enough by themselves, but together, they're awful. It's almost physically impossible for me to get through the combined sounds without blocking.
"Right," Russell says nodding to me. "Just hide your clothes in your backpack or better yet, actually leave them at home."
As Fletcher considers this approach, I turn to Al.
"What happened in English?" I ask him.
"Well, we were watching this movie and Wrath—did I tell you about Wrath?"
I shake my head.
"Well, he's the one that I met yesterday in Photography Club, only we didn't talk 'cause he's real quiet and kinda shy. But he takes the most amazing photos, you should see them some time—anyway, I was going to sit with him because I still don't really know anybody in that class, but there weren't enough seats, so I ended up sitting on his desk until the teacher told me to find a seat. But there weren't any, so I sat in his lap. I tried to talk to him after class but he stayed after and I had to meet Fletcher and you guys," Al pauses for a breath, visibly put out with the possibility that Wrath's started to avoid him.
"And you just met Wrath t-tt-today?" I ask. Sometimes I can't believe how utterly forward my little brother can be. He does stuff like this all the time, to girls and guys. Al also gets away with telling Mom about it. She doesn't mind at all. However, if she ever found out that I'd sat on Envy's lap, I'd never hear the end of it. Mom would probably assume I was gay—and I'm not, I just confused…er attracted to long-haired pale things that aren't Sloth…um crap. I'm not gay, but that wouldn't stop Mom from assuming that and being accepting of it.
And I'm sure all those gay kids out there with homophobic parents are just waiting to tell me how lucky I am and how good I have it. Well, consider this: my mom's way of being accepting is to tell everybody.
Aunt Lucinda.
Grandma.
Grandpa.
The cleaning lady.
The telemarketer who has the bad luck to call our house.
My teachers.
Parents of people I know.
My friends.
Everybody.
If Mom even thought I was gay, she'd treat just like I'd gotten a girlfriend.
'Hello, Mr. Tringham. Do you know what Ed told me today. Well, apparently…'
That's not how I want to come out. Not that I have anywhere to come out of, because I'm not gay. I'm asexual, remember. I. Don't. Have. Urges.
Unless I'm around Envy. Then everything goes to hell in a hand basket.
"Ed, are you even listening?" Al asks, sharply.
"Um," I stall.
"Well, I was saying, that today's the first time I've really talked with Wrath, but he's in three of my classes. He's a really neat guy, I just hope he doesn't think I'm playing a joke on him like the guys on the football team did," Al shudders and looks at me.
"I'm glad I didn't make the football team. I don't think he would have even talked to me if I had."
I smile at Al. Al's always been good at football and he really wanted to make the team. He definitely would've, if he hadn't broken his fingers during the second week of summer practice. After that happened, he immediately attached himself to the boy's soccer team and somehow convinced the coach to give him a chance.
"Being a soccer player—"
"Al, I'm positive it wouldn't matter even if you did play fff-f-f-ff—f-football. Wrath wouldn't be able t-tt-to ignore you very lllllong," I say, trying to comfort him. Al remains unconvinced and shrugs.
"Maybe," he says and looks down.
The bell rings and breaks the sudden silence.
"Well, I have to go to Spanish," Al says, smiling again.
"Yeah, Russell and I have English," I say and wave him off. Russell says goodbye to Fletcher and we walk towards C-9.
"So, honestly, Ed, who are you thinking about asking to the dance?" Russell asks, smiling down at me. I glare at him. I don't even want to think about the dance. It's not that I can't dance, it's that I'd have to ask someone or end up going with an extremely forward girl, like Winry.
"No one," I answer, honestly.
"Come on."
"I'm being honest," I mutter and walk through the glass and metal doors into the small hallway. Russell follows.
"No, really Ed," Russell whines as we walk past C-8. My stomach twists and I gulp as I rest my hand on the door to C-9. It feels like I'm about to walk into another, stranger land and I put off opening it.
"Who are you going t-to ask?" I question, before opening the door and walking into the room. It's partially filled with people and most of them are in their seats, chatting with their neighbors. I bite my lip and look around for the teacher.
A man in a dull green coat is talking with a curly haired girl in the corner. She says something. He mutters a reply and she listens.
I dimly realize that Russell has been talking to me.
"Hmm?"
"Never mind," he mutters, and adds before I can force him to elaborate "Let's go talk to Kärki."
He walks over to the man and I follow. The old man looks up as we approach.
"Try-ham, what do you have for me? Been corrupting innocents have we?" Kärki says gruffly.
I want to complain. I'm not innocent. Russell's not corrupting me. That's not how you pronounce his last name either. I say nothing. Mr. Kärki doesn't look like he'd care one way or another what I thought.
"This is Ed. He transferred in yesterday," Russell explains, ignoring Kärki's remark about the corrupting of innocence.
"Ah. Relative of yours?" Kärki asks, conversationally.
Russell and I look at each other briefly and shake our heads in mute horror. I don't even want to contemplate that possibility.
"No? Well, then Mr. Elric you've got quite a lot of catching up to do," Mr. Kärki growls out. "You can sit behind Jackson—Try-ham knows where that is—for now. Someone will have to help you catch up."
Kärki mutters the last bit to himself. I shift from foot to foot. Am I supposed to stay here or go to my seat.
"Kärki!" another student shouts, "What'd we do yesterday?"
"C'mon, Ed," Russell mutters, walking off. I follow. As always. "Here's your seat. So, seriously, you think she'll say yea—Oh hey, Winry?"
Russell trails off in the face of Winry's glare. Damn. Three periods and she still hasn't forgiven me.
"Wow Ed, I haven't seen her that mad since—"
"Quiet," I mutter and look away, towards the open door.
"I mean, there has to be something else going on besides you insensitively teasing her in front of—"
"Russell," I say in a warning tone. I'm already being ignored by Winry, I don't need Russell's lectures too.
"No, think about it Ed. There's no way she's just mad about this," Russell says. I glare at him. People keep coming through the door.
"There have to be more things. Now, whether or not she's mad at you for other things, or other people for other things is the question." I stop paying attention to Russell and stare at the person currently entering the room.
Envy.
Before I can grasp exactly what his presence here means, he looks at me. Our eyes meet and I'm lost. There's just something about his eyes that's intoxicating, hypnotizing, memorizing. It's not the color either. If he had hazel eyes or even brown eyes, I'm sure they would be just as captivating.
"You're not even listening to—"
Sloth pokes Envy in the back and whispers something in his ear. He turns slightly pink, grins as he gives me a little wave, and practically bounces into his desk. Sloth follows at a slower pace. She's shed her black and silver trench coat to expose a frilly red asymmetrical cocktail dress that would be scandalous save for the dark grey turtleneck and black straight-leg jeans. Russell sighs longingly and from across the room Winry gives Sloth a look of complete scorn.
Sloth ignores Winry's look, if she even sees it, and glides into the seat behind Envy. She's two seats over from me; not next to me, but close. Kärki moves from his spot in the back corner and Russell mutters something about the impending Hell of AP History and heads over to his seat, in the front row. Kärki apparently isn't one of those teachers who insist on placing the top students in the front and the slackers in the back. Russell's not a particularly bad student, he's just chronically unmotivated and has a certain knack for eliciting the hatred of teachers.
A crowd of students enters the classroom and they quickly fill up most of the remaining seats. I spot Noah amongst them. She smiles at me and I nod in return. She carefully takes her seat to the left of Sloth and to the right of Winry. I wince. That cannot be a good spot to be in, especially not today.
Mr. Kärki glares at the last few stranglers before sitting down in the desk directly in front of Envy's. Russell fidgets. I don't blame him. Kärki is sitting two feet to Russell's left. That's enough to make anyone, except for Sloth, nervous.
Kärki stares at the juniors in their seats. Most of the talking dies down and the beginning of third period draws closer. One by one all conversations stop and the whole class stares at the pale, white-haired man.
I shift in my seat. Why isn't he doing anything?
The bell rings. The sound is loud and long. Teachers seldom allow the bell to ring in utter silence, without interruption.
The door bursts open and a couple enters the room, noisily. The boy is grinning outright, while the girl keeps trying to smother her smile and look serious. Every so often she fails and grins for a moment. Someone in the front row whispers something to her and she nods and blushes. Envy gives her a thumbs-up sign and Sloth grins at her.
Kärki stares at the pair as though they are Martians who have invaded his classroom.
"Habshi, you're late and corrupting innocents. But that's nothing new."
The boy grins unabashedly. He seems unbothered by Kärki's statement.
"The lipstick on your cheek, however, is a new development."
The boy, Habshi, grins in a supremely stunned way. It's the way I imagine Russell would grin if Sloth Peccato kissed him. The dumb, slightly bewildered grin of a man who currently has the girl of his dreams by his side, but can't quite remember how she got there. The girl next to him blushes fiercely.
Kärki looks at her, then transfers his attention back to Habshi.
"I was expecting something like this to happen," Kärki says, cleaning his glasses. "Your brother was the same way. But not you, Miss Kahlo. I never thought you, of all people, would succumb to the advances of a Habshi."
"Hey, what's not to love?" Habshi asked, throwing his arm around the shoulders of his lady love.
"Your breath, for one," Miss Kahlo says with an impish smile. Kärki turned to Russell as Miss Kahlo and the Habshi boy took their seats in the far corner of the room.
"Isn't it interesting that someone with the name Serendipity Serenity could turn out to be such a parental headache," Kärki remarks in a conversational tone. Russell stares at him as if Kärki had asked him if he thought Sloth was prettier than Winry.
"Uh," is Russell's eloquent answer.
"Well my pretties," Kärki says rising from his seat. "Now that Serendipity and Landon have decided to grace with their presence, we shall begin. Due to the arrangement of the groups, I have decided to grant you a week to adjust to them."
The class tenses as a whole at his words. I can't think of what he means by 'adjust.' It's not like he'd make groups out of people who can't stand each other. No teacher would be that evil, right?
"The groups are intended to force people outside of their comfort zones. Last period I put Theodora and Justin in a group together," Kärki said, smiling as he walks around the classroom. The eyes of the class remain fixed on him. "All their discussions in class have disintegrated into shouting matches, but neither of them informed me that they couldn't work with the other. So, they were fair game."
I gulp. Fortunately, I don't hate anyone in here and even if I did, Kärki wouldn't know that. Someone asks why Theodora and Justin hate each other. Kärki pauses, and the pale, dark haired boy from Physics fidgets. I don't blame him.
"They're both loud, opinionated, stubborn people with opposing viewpoints," Kärki replies, returning to his seat at the front of class. "I expect that I will receive two different projects from that group: one done Theodora's way and one done Justin's way.
"Hmm, normally I'd have to change the group due to the recent development, but maybe not," Kärki mutters as he flips through sheaf of papers. "Group One is Sloth Peccato, Serendipity Serenity Kahlo, Envy Peccato, Landon Habshi, and Edward Elric."
Envy. My heart jumps to my throat and I stare at Kärki. Sure, he didn't place me in a group with my worst enemy, but he did the next best thing. Envy. How am I going to focus with him around?
I don't know anyone in that group well and I hate being around people I don't know. There's always introductions or worse, explanations. I'm Edward Ellllric, and in case you don't know alllready, I st-st-sttutter.
As you can imagine I hate dinner parties and any other event that requires mingling with persons unknown. It's horrible, I always manage to end up in groups of bad conversationalists. I hate long awkward silences and forced conversation. However, nothing can compare to the time Mom "intervened." Her idea of "intervention" was to introduce me to this deaf girl.
If you ask me, there is something fundamentally wrong with the idea of me communicating with a deaf girl under any circumstances, save perhaps internet chat rooms. It would have been more bearable had this party been held at my house. If it had been, I could've escaped to my room before being forcibly introduced to Clara. However, that was simply not the case.
This situation wouldn't have been so bad if I had, say known ASL, but due to my mom's belief that if I could "talk" in ASL, where I didn't stutter, I'd never speak aloud again. Mom is, of course, completely wrong. Too few people know ASL for that plan to really work.
The really unfortunate thing about that whole situation was the fact that Clara is normally excellent at reading lips. She's a lot better at it than most deaf adults are and generally doesn't need an interpreter at all. Unless she was, you know, going to talk to a chronic stutterer.
"Go meet with your groups, chunkies. Unless you're in Group One, then come see me," Kärki growls out suddenly. I jump and all thoughts of Clara flee my mind as I get up to join the group forming around Kärki's desk.
Landon and Serendipity Serenity are standing next to each other, smiling. I stand awkwardly next to them, keeping Sloth between Envy and me. I don't even know why I'm avoiding him anymore. It's not like it's going to do any good. I'm still going to have work on this group project with him.
"Alright," Kärki says clearing his throat. "Mr. Elric, you're going to be Peccato's responsibility since you joined us a little bit late in the semester."
I practically hear the smile form on Envy's face.
"She'll explain the daybooks, answer your questions about the reading and this project," Kärki continues. Envy coughs.
"Yes, Peccato?" Kärki says raising an eyebrow.
"I don't think that's going to work," he says, flipping his green hair back.
"Why not, twin-sin?"
"Sloth is busy person," Envy answers, waving his hand vaguely. Kärki glares at Sloth.
"I am not. It's just that I have winterguard practice tonight, and play rehearsals start today after school, and there's a Lit Mag meeting at lunch, and I have a choir tryout some time in—"
"Serendipity?" Kärki asks, turning away from Sloth. My eyes widen. No, not this. Any thing is better than working exclusively with someone I don't know. Especially when they have a name as unpronounceable as Serendipity Serenity Kahlo.
"Sorry, I have Cross-Country practice, speaking of which, there's kind of a meet on Friday and…"
"Tomorrow?" Kärki clarifies.
"Yes, so I'm not going be here," Serendipity drawls, stretching out the words as if to apologize for their existence.
"Hashbi? Ha! He's probably further behind than Elric at this point," Kärki mutters to himself before turning back to Envy. "Alright. Elric is your responsibility, twin-sin. So, if he screws up, it's going to affect your grade, not his."
"I can handle that," Envy says smugly, trying not to beam in front of Kärki. I just stare. It's better than Landon or Serendipity. Actually, considering that Envy and Sloth live in the same house, it's better this way. Envy probably would've just hung around Sloth and me or sulked. At least, this way, he's not going to have to make up excuses to be around me.
Not that he would need to.
And no, not for that reason. I can't stop him from being where I am.
Okay, that came out wrong.
Envy doesn't have to make up excuses to be around me because there is no reason to make up excuses. Because he doesn't like me. He can't. He just can't. He's just confused by my hair and the fact that I'm not quite as tall as he.
Like you were confused by his long hair?
I banish that thought.
It's simply not the same thing.
"Is that all, Mr. Kärki?" Landon asks, sweetly. Kärki looks at him suspiciously, before nodding his assent.
"Let's meet over there," Sloth says, pointing to an unclaimed corner of the room. I shrug and everyone else returns to their seats to gather up their stuff. I watch Envy out of the corner of my eye. I don't want to ignore him, not after the way he reacted in Physics; but, I can't help it. It's just so much easier to avoid his eyes than risk being trapped in them forever.
I walk slowly over to the group, dragging my backpack along with me. Everyone else is already in groups and talking amongst themselves. I sit down in a vacant seat and drag it around until I'm facing Sloth. She smiles at me, I smile back, weakly. So far, today has been nothing short of a disaster.
Serendipity and Landon slide, predictably, into seats next to each other. The only vacant seat is between me Sloth. Envy's seat. I gulp. I don't even know why I'm so nervous. Physics should have proven that there's nothing I can do to make him hate me; yet, I'm still apprehensive.
A thought occurs to me. Perhaps this is how Russell feels when he's around his current crush (this week, it's Sloth). Only he doesn't have the insurance of knowing that there's no way he can screw up. I shudder. It truly sounds like a terrifying existence. Though, Russell's never seemed to consider the possibility of failure. It's almost as if he just assumes that all females love him.
"Hiya, Edo," Envy says, plopping down in the seat next to me. I jump.
"Hey, Envy," I say and look at him.
Big mistake.
He's positively beaming.
And absolutely 'dead-drop' gorgeous, as Grandmother Elric likes to say.
"Hi Ed," Serendipity Serenity says. "I'm Seren."
I give her a strange look.
"It's my nickname, FYI, don't ever call me Serendipity Serenity or bad things will happen." She grins broadly.
I nod. There's not much else I can do. Seren is only mildly better than Serendipity Serenity.
"Who's the leader?" Kärki asks, suddenly appearing behind Sloth.
"I am!"
"I AM!"
"It's me!"
"I'm so the leader."
Kärki looks baffled momentarily.
"I suppose you're the leader too, Elric," Kärki growls out, looking at me.
"No," I say. The idea is stupid. Me, leader? Yeah right. I've never been group leader and, honestly, I don't want to be. I'm much better at second in command. That way, people still listen to me and I don't have to bother with arranging meetings and people and stuff. Medium amount of power with little responsibility. Perfect.
"No? Well, you should be," Kärki mutters. "Peccato, I thought we decided you already had too much to do. You can't be leader, you evil Italian woman, you."
Sloth glares at Kärki, who pretends not to notice.
"You're keeping Edward on track, twin-sin. No leadership role for you," Kärki says. "So it's between Habshi and Kahlo."
"I'll be leader!" Habshi crows. Sloth elbows his in the ribs.
"He can be leader," Serendipity says, graciously.
"Right, well, good luck with that Habshi. If you can remain in this position for more than a day, I'll be surprised," Kärki hands Landon a sheaf of papers, before scribbling something down and walking off to question other groups.
"So," Landon says, passing out the papers. "This is the group project."
We all stare at the paper. On it is roughly 25 items that must be completed within three weeks. The first one is an essay about what Dante (who's Dante?) was doing at the beginning of the poem, what his sin was, how old he was, and what his salvation was. I skip down to the questions 2-21, which make absolutely no sense. How should I know why God hates fraud the most? What is usury? And last time I checked, Satan only had one head, not three.
Question 22 is really consists of four one page essays about people with Italian names and how Dante reacts to their various predicaments. Question, or assignment, 23 involves finding and comparing current illustrations of the Inferno with more ancient ones and writing an essay on the topic.
I sigh.
I have never been this lost in a class before.
"So," Seren drawls, breaking the silence. "Who wants to be editor?"
Silence.
"I'm already leader—"
"Landon, I've read your Daybooks. You can't be editor," Sloth says, fiddling with a piece of paper. "Seren, do you want to be editor?"
"Umm, I don't—"
"I can be the editor," I hear myself say.
"Okay, Ed," Sloth agrees happily. Seren nods and Landon gives me an appraising look.
"You're Al's brother, aren't you?" He asks.
"Yeah," I say, wondering if Landon is the brother of one of Al's friends.
"He's a pretty good soccer player for starting during tryouts," Landon says, nodding.
"Wait, you two know each other?" Seren asks, raising her eyebrows.
"Nah, I've just heard of his brother," Landon says, smiling again as he turns to his girlfriend. I roll my eyes.
"So, Landon, who's doing what on this sheet?" Envy asks suddenly with a smirk.
"Uh, right," Landon drawls. His voice is one of the lowest I've ever heard. Much lower than Dad's, Mr. Tringham, or mine own. I've never met someone who had a baritone speaking voice and it's interesting.
He's also built very uniquely. He's average height. He's more thickset than scrawny and he'd be considered stocky if he was any shorter. His muscles are not the wiry, whipcord type or the hard, defined type. He's not fat either, just toned. I've never seen a guy who looked like that before.
"I'll do the Paolo and Francesca essay," Sloth volunteers.
"Envy, you're a good writer, you do Ugolino," Seren states. Envy shrugs when I look at him.
"Landon, do you want Guido da Montefeltro or Brunetto Latino?"
"I'll do Brunetto."
"Ed, why don't you do the beginning essay and the art essay," Seren says. "You're the editor, so you shouldn't have to do any of the questions."
I nod.
The fact that I can't answer any of the questions probably has a lot more to do with Seren's decision than any concern for my workload. The fact that I've been given the easiest two essays does not escape my attention, either.
"I'll do questions two through six," Landon says, as Seren scribbles that down. I begin to see why Kärki said that Landon would be lucky if kept his position as group leader. He was really too laid back to lead Sloth and Seren anywhere, never mind Envy.
"I got seven through eleven," Sloth declares.
"Brilliant, I'll do twelve through sixteen and Envy that means you get seventeen through twenty," Seren concludes.
"So, what else needs to be done or can we just chill?" Landon inquires. I shrug. They all seem to know what's going on.
"Yes, Lan, we can just chill now," Seren says the word 'chill' as if it is foreign and slightly distasteful. Envy snickers softly at this. Sloth hides a smile. Landon looks bemused.
"So, Ed," Envy says suddenly, "What IM do you use?"
"Um," I try to think of a way to stall without hurting his feelings. Sometimes I regret the fact that I can't say my IM identity off the top of my head. It's the downside of having picked something like Stutterbug.
"Do you really need it?" I ask. Envy's face falls. "I mean, can't we just email each other?"
"I guess, but IM's so much faster," Envy says, resting his head on his crossed arms.
"Besides, what makes you think I can't t-tt-talk on the ff-ffff-ff-phone?" I stutter out quickly, glancing at Landon to see his reaction. Only it's more of a non-reaction. Both he and Seren are unfazed by my stuttering. I'm shocked. This never happens. Ever. People always stare at me when they first hear me stutter.
"Can you?" Envy asks, and Sloth looks away quickly.
"No," I muttered, dropping my head. Why can't I be normal?
"So, IM works best, unless, of course, you'd prefer to come over andmaybespendthenight?" Envy asks, looking at me hopefully.
I stare at him.
He did not just say what I think he said.
That would be impossible.
"What?" I ask, shell-shocked. Envy was probably joking. Or meant something else, because there's no way he just invited me to spend the night with him.
"Well, you could always come over to my house and we could work on the project, and getting you caught up, and since Sloth's there too, you could work on your history project, and stuff," Envy trails off.
"I—uh, I'd have to ask my parents," I say. I can't believe it. This has to be another dream.
"Okay, well, it doesn't have to be tonight, Friday works too," Envy says, fighting not to grin broadly. I smile back at him, I can't help myself. He's so amazing. He grins back at me.
"Hey, the bell's about to ring, so why don't we all write down phone number and shit—ow!—"
"Don't swear!"
"And stuff," Landon amends, shooting Seren what can only be called a kicked-puppy look. She glares at him. Envy snickers.
Sloth is busy ripping a piece of binder paper into five pieces.
"Write your name on one of these and pass it around," Sloth instructs. Everyone listens. I write my phone number and email address down on three slips of paper before reaching Envy's.
After writing out my email address, I pause. Envy really wanted my IM address. And it really would be better to IM him that to email or attempt to use the phone. I bite my lip. If I give him my IM name in writing, he'll understand why I didn't want to say it and he won't be upset.
I release my lip and scrawl Stutterbug, just as the bell rings.
Fin.
Any glaring mechanical errors that I should be aware of?
Areas that the Writer did extremely well at:
Areas that need work:
Chapter Question: There wasn't a huge change in tone/style from the previous chapter, was there?
Oh and if you can tell me who I borrowed the name Kahlo from, I'll give you a sneak preview (when I get it written) of the next chapter. WARNING: I happen to be evil, so the preview is going to end on a cliffy.
Also, does anyone want to see images of the setting? I have a few photos and I should work on my building drawing skills…