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 Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2009 12:19 am
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
Some students prefer to idly push and press at the head of an ink pen as an outlet for their nervousness and anxiety. The noise produced in those actions are often a row of obnoxious clickity-clickity-clicks, and it's only ever enjoyed by the maker while others nearby fidgit around uncomfortably in hopes that it would stop.
Alba is not one of those students. Alba very rarely used a pen, as she disliked the inability to turn to its end and erase any mistakes that she may inevitably make, and that was much better than scratching it out and wasting answer space. So instead of issuing an onslaught of clicks to the peers she sat next to in Chemistry class, she took her pencil and impatiently tapped it against her desk, the rubber pink eraser head bouncing along the fake wood linoleum surface.
The noise wasn't much better than the former.
Her bottom lip was bit and nearly bleeding as her professor passed by her desk to give back an exam to the girl behind her. She had spent weeks preparing for this test, weeks of studying and staying late nights in the lab to perfect her chemical compound mixtures. Granted, there was very little improvement to show she did all this preperation, but try she did, and she was anxious to view the results of her hard work.
A packet of paper was placed carelessly ontop of her fiddling hand, ultimately ceasing the noise and causing a few people around her to sigh in relief. The transfer student took a few seconds to collect her nerves together and finally glanced at the upper right-hand corner of her paper. There, circled in bright red permanent marker, was her worst-case scenario come to life:
C.
Her heart sank. If she continued down this road of average-ness and imperfection she would surely lose her scholarship that helped her stay and board in Crystal Academy. After all of the students filed out of the classroom at the sound of the bell, Alba shuffled behind, a metaphorical cloud of despair hovering above her.
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Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2009 7:54 pm
As Alba shuffled out in a fug of misery, she passed another one of the chemistry students who had dropped her bag and was doing something up against the bulletin board. She was painstakingly arranging a print-out and easing in thumbtacks in each corner -- the thumbtacks were shaped like tiny... weird... creatures. (If Alba had been in the know, she would have recognised them as tiny Snorlaxes.) The girl had a long, peach-coloured braid that hung down her back in an eternity loop, and she was short. Her hair looked like it was probably taller than she was. She edged out, not noticing Alba, and one of the Snorlax pins went flying.
Thessaly Jones' cause and consequence chart went into effect.
You have dropped a sharp pin
=>
POSSIBLY CAUSED THE DEATHS OF THOUSANDS
Tessa careened out in front of Alba, bumping into her again. She looked utterly horrified. "Sorry!" Her voice was light and breathy and terrified. "Sorry! Sorry, I shouldn't have bumped you. I don't look where I'm going. I'll look where I'm going. Sorry -- sorry, there's -- there's a pin -- "
The snorlax had rolled to rest by Alba's feet. Thessaly paled, as though this was the straw that would cause Alba to say, "Too much." The girl seemed so agitated and nervous that it was just about a form of passive aggression.
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Posted: Wed Dec 16, 2009 10:53 am
Evidently the cloud that embodied Alba's melancholy and distress was also doing a fair job at fogging up her vision, as the girl hardly noticed Tessa and her long mass of hair on her way out of the room. At the first impact, both students shuffled around and exchanged the usual "ooh! sorry!" in unison without a second glance back, a dance very well known in school hallways (at least, for those who weren't looking to cause any trouble).
It wasn't going to be Alba's day to leave and grieve all over her dorm room, as she was planning on doing and already coursing her way back to. Instead, she walked right into Tessa again, and this time, she was forced to focus on her bumping partner; it was a difficult task to ignore a smaller girl whose mouth was going a mile a minute.
Through all of the apologies, she was able to pick out a singular important term in the equation, and looking down only confirmed her hypothesis. She carefully bent over (so as not to bump again) and picked up the pin that rested against her heel. Straightening up, she observed its unique detail and form before holding it infront of her, palm side upwards.
Having sensed the girl's extreme anxiety, Alba tried her best to give the most calming of tones when she asked, "Is this yours? I don't know what the image is of, but it's very cute."
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