[DRP] High School Never Ends and Other Cliches (Chel/Jack)

[chiickadee]

October

Chel transferred in a week before Halloween. Her parents were pieces of s**t that couldn't be bothered to move before the school year started, so she was stuck in a disjointed situation, already behind in classes she would inevitably fall even further behind in. She was also late to the social scene, since by now everyone had mostly decided who their friends were going to be and had already begun the drama without her.

They'd moved from Tennessee to <******** Michigan and it was <******** cold up here and everyone was <******** stupid. Yet she'd practiced for weeks getting rid of her accent, gotten a new wardrobe (aka two new jackets, maybe) from hot topic (the only store of choice) and was nervous walking in to the school.

School sucked, as it always did. Just from hitting the entrance she was met with a swarm of blurry, confusing letters. Another language- another world.

She had taken the time to painstakingly go over her schedule with Chris, not because she didn't want to be late (she showed up late for the first class anyways) but because she didn't want to have to ask someone what the paper holding her schedule said.

By the time she hit homeroom, an English class of all ******** things, her head was stinging lightly with the promise of a headache by the end of the day. Chel slid into a desk in the back, trying not to be noticed but very much standing out considering 1) she'd never been in this class before and quite a few people noticed and 2) she had obnoxiously dyed black hair that bled into something more purple, making her hair look like it a nice gothic mix of colors. At least, that was the intention had it not been dyed by a 14 year old.

The teacher was a nice woman, a little old, a little portly, but still good. She began the class with a short announcement: There was a transfer student who you had all doubt noticed, and her name is Chelsea Craft, Chelsea could you stand up a moment dear?

Chel obliged and said nothing for the moment, giving the class a short wave and nothing more. She didnt' look at anyone in the class in particular, but somehow also managed to scan them each over once. The teacher was maybe waiting for an introduction of some kind, but Chel said nothing and sat back down, returning to drawing on her hand as she had been before. She had no notebooks (that was a joke) and didn't intend to listen, but she was at least polite enough not to pull out her headphones on the very first day.

Thus began Chel's life as an apathetic teenager in high school.

medigel

 

[medigel]

October

Most people got a kick out of Christmas time, but his most energetic enthusiasm always came in October. Forget forced niceties and gift giving and bring on the scares, the costumes, the rich history of Samhain, the parties. He wasn't a terribly good socialite, but even he couldn't resist it if ghosts and goblins were the theme. Something about fall made him more congenial in general.

(What is know is that his birthday is on Halloween. What isn't known is that freshman Jack Hawthorn, blond and stereotypically smart and freakishly tall, is turning sixteen this year, and he hopes to somehow keep it that way.)

In homeroom he was telling Lina and James his plans for haunt hunting that year (if Halloween came and went without a plan to check something out, something was horribly wrong), when the teacher called on a new kid to introduce herself. One glance at her was enough to make him want to roll his eyes. Not more of those.

"Be nice," Lina whispered. She could tell even without him physically doing anything. "She's probably nervous, coming in the middle of the year." Chelsea hadn't made an introduction for herself after all.

"Uh huh. Anyway, so there's this spot on the corner of Briar and Westwood..."
 

[chiickadee]

Parties

It took approximately three days for Chel to make a friend and somehow after that she was consistently surrounded by a gaggle of people at any given time. Never the same people and certainly not a surplus of people, but she was never really alone; or at least, it seemed that way.

So when a party was announced for Halloween, Chel was inevitably there. She wore a slightly risque witch outfit. What she didn't tell anyone was that it was risque because it was about four years old now and had gotten shorter with time rather than intentionally slutty. Money wasn't really abundant in her household and holidays were no different.

She did herself no favors by cutting the top low enough for her bra to peek through and putting some blackish red storebought streaks through her hair. It was Halloween- you were supposed to look like a slut. They collected a different type of candy as mature high school students.

She still wasn't sure why she was nestled under the arm of Marcel Synrome, but she was seated on a couch amongst a group of people, and it felt good to be seated at a couch with a group of people, so she sat there and listened to them all intently.

More succinctly, she listened to them all intently and noticed they all seemed to center on one freakishly tall blonde- jock? She assumed so. Chel wasn't particularly impressed. He seemed like the type that snaked you into talking and then bit you back in return.  

[medigel]

Parties

It was the annual bullshit show, at least according to some people. The same tales Jack always had up his sleeve resurfaced along with the new adventures he had scraped together between school and extracurriculars (which was questionable enough as it was, for he seemed too busy to be doing anything else, let alone chase ghosts). From the time he swore he'd seen his mirror image twitch and smirk to the moving shadows in his latest abandoned lot escapade. It was almost as much for entertainment value as it was for his own purposes, to gauge and see if anyone ever looked at him with something more than amusement or doubt.

Unsurprisingly, Jack had dressed to the nines even for Halloween: this year as Jason Voorhees, in honor of the reboot movie that had been released. Lina was off chatting with her own group of friends not too far away, leaving him free to swing his machete around without the usual ghost at his side.

He had just finished telling them about the time he had nearly gotten caught trespassing when James cleared his throat; indulgence time was over. "You bored us enough, man, let someone else talk."

"New girl hasn't heard the classic one yet," he pointed out.

"New girl doesn't give a s**t about you getting possessed," James shot back with a grin. "I think they get the picture: you're a ******** nut case." Jack's smile dimmed just slightly as his friend turned to the group at large and offered to get drinks.  

[chiickadee]

Parties

"New girl has a name. S'Chel," she inserted, rolling her eyes, but with an amiable grin. "Let him tell his possession story. It's cute enough that he thinks his trespassing story was deep s**t." Chel took a long sip of her soda after that, letting the burn settle in.

Quite frankly she agreed with James. This dude was a nutjob. But even nutjobs could be entertaining and that's what parties were for- a good laugh.  

[medigel]

Parties

Jack raised his eyes a bit for show and looked to James. "Deep s**t, she says! Alright then." He crossed his arms. "Share a story with the circle, Chel, if that was so cute."  

[chiickadee]

Parties

Chel told the group a story about breaking into a convenience store with her cousin and she told it with the same convincing-yet-extrapolated tone that had you thinking it was both easily plausible and too unrealistic to be real. Even at a young age Chel was a good storyteller, and it showed in the fact that regardless of if you believed the story to be real or not, it was still a good story.

"And that's what happened. True as s**t, seriously," she said with a sideways grin. Even the bit about the mysterious shadowy man unlocking the door.

Marcel whispered something in Chel's ear and pointed elsewhere in the house. Chel shrugged and said, "Yeah whatever," in response. She stood up from the couch and stretched, then followed Marcel elsewhere in the house.  

[medigel]

Parties

Jack grew less and less pleased when people seemed more interested in petty crime as opposed to the supernatural. (And on Halloween, no less, the nerve.) "Like bullshit, you mean," he grumbled.

But whatever. She was heading off to go sleep with someone like any old slut wearing a costume would, so the reigns were shifted over to him once more. Lina wandered in with her friend just in time to pull her (metaphorically as well as physically) in as an accomplice to one of their newer stories.
 

[chiickadee]

So it goes

And so it went on that Chel would attend parties, sleep with someone, date them for a few months then dump them or be dumped. Not popular, never popular, but always WITH someone. Needlessly dependent on her status as a girlfriend, a friend with benefits, something.

She never seemed particularly disatisfied with the title of slut. She was a naturally bright person and insults never faltered her smile.

At least, not in public.  

[chiickadee]

Classification

After the whispers, the doctor's appointments, the eye doctor evaluation, she now had a new title.

Dyslexic.

"So we're going to set you up with a special case tutor. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah I got it."

"Okay. And anoher thing; if you're struggling with any of your assignments you can just go ahead and let your teachers know that. They'll give tou some leniency- if any of them are difficult you just go ahead and let me know."

Chel nodded absently. The school counselor's chairs were itchy and the room was too small. She felt choked in more ways than one. She wish someone would actually choke her in more ways than one.

"Okay so Jack you want to come in here then?" The counselor waved a hand. "You two already know each other so we won't do introductions, but we'll go over some guidelines for the tutelage~"  

[medigel]

Classification

When they told him he was going to tutor somebody, he had hoped for a little compensation for doing so--not the credit of a "good deed", but money at the very least, like the actual job it was going to be. But there he was, sitting in the much too small chair, his legs awkwardly splayed out before him, his arms crossed in his lap in mild defiance, listening to the counselor go over the curriculum Chel needed help with.

All he could think was: This is going to suck. He'd have to stay after school to handle her, on top of everything else he had to do?

"What day works best for you?" he asked once they had been dismissed, already prepping up his mental calendar. Basketball, studies, homework, clubs, free time...
 

[chiickadee]

Classification

Chel pulled up her backpack strap, moving down the hallway and dodging various obstacles.

"Can't we just like. Not and say we did?" she asked him with a charismatic smile that had-that-effect-on-people. "I mean ********- you don't want to do it, I don't want to do it. You aren't even getting paid so who cares f'I fail out of this grade, y'know?"  

[medigel]

Classification

Both things and people had a way of parting the way for Jack. Probably because he could be seen a mile away.

"No, we can't. If your grades keep sucking, it reflects bad on me as a tutor." This was important, you see, even more than smiles. "Plus we have to sign off every session anyway so they know we're doing it."  

[chiickadee]

Classification

"Then let me sign now. I'll just box 'em off."

She could at least sign her name. Badly.

That didn't solve his problem of poor reflection though. To that Chel said, "Don't really see how your rep's my problem. Like if it can be tarnished by one chick's grades it wasn't really that good t'begin with yeah?"

She gave a shrug. Not her problem.  

[medigel]

Classification

Rolling his eyes, he said, "I'm not gonna let you do that either, genius, they'll check."

He checked his watch and began to pick up the pace, eager to get away. "Look, just bring your crap Tuesday after school to the tutoring center. The math stuff isn't that hard, we'll be out in less than half an hour."