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 Posted: Sat Nov 21, 2009 9:18 pm
“That is a problem. There are no parking lots and I don’t own a suitcase. We can always exchange manila envelopes, but I don’t own a trench coat.” He tapped his finger and looked up and down the hallway. It would be more interesting if they could pretend to trade illegal documents, but didn’t own any of the necessary materials for that. Not even a discrete meeting in the cafeteria to exchange suitcases. He REALLY needed to buy a suitcase. It just had the air of professionalism and class that he wanted, though it hardly matched his ruffled tie and messy hair. Looking badass required work and hair gel.
“Okay, I suppose I can go to your room and we can work there. How’s that? I don’t think there is enough room at my place. I don’t really expect company. I didn’t expect long term till now. Glad you’re thinking ahead.” He turned another page from the book as he jotted some things in the margins. “When is this due? I can trade it before class if you can turn it in print. If it's handwritten, then you're going to need time to rewrite it. My homework isn’t due till tomorrow at 3rd period. How about you?”
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Posted: Sun Nov 22, 2009 12:44 pm
"Day after, 9am, I just need some notes for tomorrow morning. A topic. And typed is fine, my handwriting's like illegible so the teachers prefer it." Jon levered himself up to stand with a little yawn, then scrambled to grab the multitudes of books he had all around him. There was still the history homework, of course, and he still had to prepare for a couple other classes, but he thought he could get away with half-assing those. Maybe.
For now, hugging the mess against his chest, he led Remi down the hall to his own room. The smell of pot was strong even outside, with the door closed, while he fumbled to get everything unlocked. "I can probably finish this all up for you nowish, though."
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Posted: Sun Nov 22, 2009 5:49 pm
The smell was intense and he didn’t need to take many guesses to what could produce it. Ohhh. So THIS was the kid. He passed the door enough on his way to the stairs that he picked up the aroma and the loud comments from passing students. Druggie. Pot Head. The references to bongs and fingers pinched to the lips. It seemed John had another hobby.
While Remi’s room was messy, he never had anything like food that could rot or stink in it. It wasn’t that he was neat, far from it. It was that he was weird with smells. In a hallway, he would try to figure out what aroma he was taking in. Part of him just wanted to know, and another just wanted to complain about it. This smell wasn’t something he could rightly hate or like. It was deep, musky, and had a defined power to it that even spray potpourri and open windows couldn’t fully wipe away.
As much as he tried, he still had a small grin that said he knew that smell, not that it was a secret. Holding his own pile, he tried to play it cool and not comment. Remi really never had the chance to smoke pot. His friends weren’t the type though he was sure a few of his siblings had their own experiences. Part of Remi wanted to know who else was smoking, and who they were buying it from. It wasn’t like Barren Pines was pure, but it was surprisingly hard for him to imagine such a boring place having a dealer.
“Ah, yeah. I can get this stuff done with just the notes I jotted down if you want. If that’s all your teacher needs right now, you can just have that. I can write the full paper out in a night or so. I would have been spending that long doing those equations.”
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Posted: Sun Nov 22, 2009 7:15 pm
Jon got the door open, dropping the books with an annoyed sound as he got the door open and shooting a look back toward Remi -- his eyebrows raised, just a hint of amusement on his face. He knew that smell too, he knew it was pervasive, and knew that if he were more of a troublemaker, he would probably get called out on it more often. Fortunately, he wasn't. He kept to himself. Best for everyone to just let it slide, perhaps.
After kicking his book into the room, under the bed, he made a summoning sort of gesture, drawing Remi inward. His room was a mess; clothes, books, papers, the wreck of beanbag chairs on the floor, refrigerator half-hidden beneath a shirt. "You want to come work in here? I got some snacks..." Another step in, gesturing toward the fridge, and dropping down to sit in a comfortable sort of way.
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Posted: Mon Nov 23, 2009 9:39 am
Aside from the smell, the room was comfortable. It had very lived in, the floor messy and the chairs well winkled with days of laziness. Despite not wanting to be a flake, he still thought he would see a aquarium of weed somewhere under a heat lamp or a bong cleverly disguised as a lamp. There was nothing of these, which saddened him at one point and made him feel guilty for buying into stereotypes. This was one of his few experiences in a room the wafted the smell of heavy usage which only made him realize how very clean cut his was.
“Um, thanks, but I’m good.” He had plenty of snacks in his room as well, which he often made a main dish. He just had a heaping helping of skittles and a bag of Sun Chips. Settled down into a beanbag chair that was already swallowing him, he opened his notebook again. “Do you entertain often?” As in, did he bring people over at all and if so, who? Remi wanted to know what the inner circle of smokers were, even if just now thinking that made him feel like a dork.
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Posted: Mon Nov 23, 2009 9:48 am
"...sometimes." Remi was kind of a spaz, wasn't he? Jon still looked amused, hauling the math book open across his knees in the chair and reaching under the bed in search of a soda. At least it was an unopened soda, he didn't have half-drunk cans lurking around. Not today, at least. He was sober today.
When he was on a binge, it was an entirely different story.
"I've got an xbox, so. Some people like that." He gestured with his chin to the machine, his hands caught up in the effort of popping the tab on his can, carefully, so he wouldn't spill all over Remi's books and homework and his pants and the floor. "You digging for an invite?"
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Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2009 9:43 am
“I thought I was already invited with homework sessions? I’m here, aren’t I?” He pointed out, though wasn’t really thinking he had to ask at this point. Did he? You never knew who still had a sense of proper etiquette around here, no matter how old fashioned, where you had to ask to go to their room. “If I need a invite, then yeah. I’m diggin one. Care to be a humble host?”
Places to keep himself entertained while working, roll of ideas, brainstorm, and just talk to were great to have. Sometimes he was struck with a sudden thought that he wanted to share and had no one to talk to. At that point, he usually just started muttering to himself, which never made you feel sane. Not to mention it made you aware that maybe a roommate would have been a good thing.
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Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2009 10:29 am
"Just gotta knock first, is all I ask." Like it said on the door. Jon shook his head a little, downing a goodly portion of his soda and then sliding it in under the line of the bed, so it wouldn't get knocked over. Safer out of sight, out of the range of moving feet or reclining youths. "I like some Halo, too, and it'd be nice to have someone I can beat, what with Lucas always kicking my a**..."
He shook his head just a little, almost mournful, and dug around in his pockets for his pencil. He was going to have to work slowly on this homework for two reasons. One, he had to make mistakes, and show all his work. Two, it had to be legible, all of it, so that Remi could take it and rewrite it in his own hand. Damn. "You usually fail this stuff, or what?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2009 1:22 pm
Not use to having a chair without a actual back to it, he shuffled as best he could before opening the book and working out some notes. In his mind, he was already formulating how he would construct the essay and thinking of nice transitional phrases that would make any English teacher melt. Looking up, he glanced from the page of the book back to the boy, his attention split.
“Well, you said that numbers drive you crazy in your head. They drive me crazy in another way. I can get subtractions, multiplication, and all those basics that you can pretty much get down with simple rules. It’s when you get into the long equations that split up into parts and fractions that really do me in. I start thinking I have it right, but halfway through I manage to turn get turned about and wind up in some dark alley of mathematics I didn’t want to be in. By then, I have no idea where to go and the numbers start blurring. I’ve never been good in math. Personally, I don’t see when I’d ever use a equation using variables and fractions together or figuring out angles and planes. That’s for people who plan on going into NASA or architecture. I’m writing!” he leaned back and looked back at the book.
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Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2009 8:58 pm
"Yeah, yeah, heard it before." He made a blah-blah-blah gesture, dismissive, shaking off all the pretty comments on Remi's issues and the explanations -- Jon wasn't judging, he was just asking. He tossed his head a little to one side, to shake hair back out of his eyes.
"It's cool, I don't care, different strokes -- I'm just trying to get a feel for you GPA." He lifted the book just a little, eyebrows raised at Remi and a smile twitching up the corners of his mouth. "If you usually fail, we should start by barely-passing. If you usually barely-pass, let's shoot for a C. You get the drift? Work the system a bit better."
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Posted: Thu Nov 26, 2009 4:11 pm
If John hadn’t smiled, Remi might have been pissed off enough to leave. The dismissive attitude to his explanation seemed cold to him, and he instead looked at his page. While he was being helped, it had the air of someone who was giving him charity and thought he was just like all the other idiots who didn’t get complicated math. It wasn’t his fault this wasn’t his element, and part of him wanted to get the man a very low C on his paper. The drive to write a good paper was dwindling rapidly.
“Thanks. I can live with a C.” Remi tried to mask his attitude, and glanced up as he finished circling a passage. “How well do you do in English? I have to know if writing a ‘A’ paper will cause some flags to go up when you’re teacher reads this.” It would help dull the dislike if he knew he was also helping someone with a academic weakness. Part of him wished he was dealing with a guy who had too many baked brain cells just to make him feel better.
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Posted: Thu Nov 26, 2009 5:15 pm
"I got held back." He smiled, a blossoming, bright sort of smile, eyebrows raised, and then dropped his attention back down to the paper in front of him, scrawling something illegible in one corner. A note to himself, probably. Maybe a mention of required GPA, a quick calculation of how many questions right and wrong that meant. He made a soft noise, halfway humming, under his breath.
"...twice, actually. But once was when I was little, doesn't count, I don't think." He said this bit with a toss of his head, just watching Remi out of the corner of one eye.
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Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2009 7:35 pm
He chalked it up to pride then. What he saw as smug changed to just being able to mention one thing he was good at. John already mentioned he was surprised he was accepted here, which meant he probably thought that being held back was part of it. That or his other low grades. Remi felt better in John’s’ company, knowing he wasn’t dealing with one of the smug elitist who had been the big brain in their high school and transferred here to continue their bragging. He’d be lying if he didn’t a bit glad superior in that he hadn’t ever been held back. While not smart, he at least managed to get by.
He smiled.
“Guess we’re good at what we do at least. Now that you’re in Barren Pines, that all doesn’t really matter.” Being in BP more than made up being held back in some normal school for 2 years, and now he could probably get a great job that would making being held back come as a joke. “I can’t wait to get out of this school and finally start getting somewhere.”
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Posted: Sat Nov 28, 2009 9:31 pm
Elitist Jon certainly was not. He was too laid back, too casual, too absent. Remi could chat all he liked, and he'd make quiet, agreeable comments, maybe poke a little fun -- but always good-natured. He didn't really want to hurt Remi's feelings, but sometimes he couldn't help it. That was just the kind of humor he had.
Eventually , though, he'd lull into silence, finally fully distracted by the problems on the paper in front of him. When Remi got tired of him and decided to leave, Jon would be surprised at how fast it was, would blink up at him, consider the page, and then offer a twitch of a smile.
He'd be done in time. This was way better than doing his own work.
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