|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Feb 28, 2010 4:20 pm
Fallon was not big on Home Economics. She could cook, clean, and sew already, and most of the course work was exceptionally gender-biased. Why didn't they teach the girls to change their own oil? Or do their taxes? Instead of learning new information, Fallon spent her time in class making pies that were beneath her and learning how to sew designs that could be found in the craft section at Walmart.
When the teacher announced a "super special" new project coming up, Fallon was only mildly interested. And then came those words dreaded by any isolationist teenager: group project. Fallon did her best not to throw up in her mouth, even as the teacher announced that they would be assigned groups. Her eyes flew around the room, appraising each female face. Hopefully she'd get someone incredibly passive who would just let her do everything, or maybe one of the slackers who wouldn't care either way.
Fallon didn't even know what the project was yet, and she was already sweating. Her hand slipped into her desk to fidget with the pale purple squeeze ball Dr. Price had given her (a few boxes of them, actually) and held her breath. The teacher pointed a finger at her. "Fallon," she said, dragging her other finger down the paper in front of her. "You'll be working with Margaret."
Insert Psycho shower-attack music.
Margaret Butler. Margaret Sue Ann Butler. The girl had perfect curls, Fallon wouldn't deny that, but that was where the pleasantries ended. She sounded like a bucket of rusted nails when she spoke and had that cheery euphoria that Fallon was incapable of understanding. She didn't even want to look at the girl, but she couldn't help but turn to stare at her -- horrified.
The bell rang, and Fallon made a break for the door, pausing only to grab the hand-out that would explain whatever the project was. Fallon didn't even stop to read it. She was too desperate to put as much distance between her and Margaret Butler as humanly possible.
Maybe she could petition for a new partner? Maybe she could beg to do it alone? Maybe a freak accident would send the southern crooner to the hospital?
Anything was better than subjecting herself to the sunshine of Margaret Butler.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 01, 2010 8:14 am
Unlike Fallon, Margaret Butler was a huge fan of Home Economics (even if she didn't understand what the name of the class meant. Home...economics? Wasn't Econ the Stock Market with the bulls?).
Back at home, she'd learned to cook. In fact, she loved to cook, so being assigned new recipes to perform simply delighted her day. Why couldn't math, science, English or any of those other boring a** classes have such exciting assignments? Even the easiest of recipes could be jazzed up - and the teacher didn't even mind when she added in her own creative twists! (Well, except for that one time with the peppers but everyone makes mistakes.) She wasn't much for cleanin' or sewin' or any of that girly stuff (though then again, the sewing had come in handy for more than one pair of jeans she owned...) but she put her best foot forward in this class because it was, by far, the easiest one to participate in. In fact, you got points just for participating!
The news of a group project was both exciting and daunting. The majority of the classmates tended to turn a blind eye when Mags started cooking, but a good number were able to tolerate the blue-eyed wonder. To Mags, however, every one of them was a friend. Some of these friends just tended to... not talk as much as others.
As soon as her name was called, she said up straight, immediately delighted. Fallon was one of those friends that chose not to talk as much as the others (and had these little weird things she'd carry around and squeeze all the time - Mags wasn't quite sure what to think of those), but it was an exciting notion to get to know a fellow student just a little bit better. Plus she was smart - Mags would totally get a good grade for SURE this time!
The bell rang and they made their way out of their chairs. Mags nabbed one of the instruction papers and didn't even care to glance at what it was; her focus was on the door and her target was the dark haired girl darting out of it.
"HEY, WAIT UP!"
The teacher's request for "ladies use their indoor voices" went unheard as the gangly blonde clomped after the other girl, soon catching up to her. "This is gonna be so much FUN, dontcha think? Yew inna hurry? Yew're acting like yew've got a bee in your britches!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 01, 2010 8:20 am
Oh God, she was fast. As much as Fallon's fight or flight response was screaming for her to run away at top speed, the girl knew it would be terribly inappropriate for her to dart off through the hallways. She wasn't big on people seeing her frantic either. The curly-hair that bounced into view nearly blinded her, but Fallon did her best to put on a convincing smile. She was only mildly effective.
"Margaret," she said, with much the same intonation as someone might hiss you. The bee in the britches thing went ignored. "I'm not sure you heard correctly. Perhaps there is a bee in your ear canal? I'm working alone." Fallon spun on her heel and began to walk away, hand fiercely clutching the paper.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
