(no subject)
"Classes start tomorrow, Professor."
"You shouldn't call me that," Adrian responded automatically, "and you'll be fine."
"Nine months until I'm shot of this hell hole," she responded, almost lightly. "That's the gestation period of a human fetus. You could knock me up right now and during Commencement, my water could break on the President's shiny expensive shoes. 'Sorry, Prez, my bad...' Right as he's handing me my diploma and expecting me to look photogenic and happy to be there."
"Your parents want you to be there. You're their only daughter. It would hurt them if you skipped your own graduation ceremony."
She pouted, irritation coursing through her. "It's not like I even like this place. A few cool teachers, yes, and friends to die for, but as an institution, I'm pretty sure they trump all others for pure sadism."
He grinned wickedly. "Am I to understand that you've stopped liking the occasional bit of sadism?"
She wrinkled her nose and said, "No more sadism for you. Punishment."
"How cruel of you."
She laughed, but then was serious again. "I hate it here, Adrian. Hate. Not just mild dislike. Not like they sometimes annoy me, but all in all it's been a blast. I hate it."
"If you could go back, would you do it differently?"
"I was thinking about that tonight in the lab while I was cleaning. If I hadn't gone here, I wouldn't have gotten in touch with you when I was looking for somewhere else to go."
"No."
"And you wouldn't have said to me, 'Wherever you go, there you are.'"
"I would not have."
"And I wouldn't have realized that I wanted to leave for the wrong reason."
"And now?"
"Now I want to leave because I hate this place. Not because I hate myself."
"Is there a difference?" he asked curiously.
She stopped to think. "Yes. Before I wanted to be somewhere where nobody knew me so that I could start over. So that I could lie without anybody noticing it. If you lie long enough, you start to think its true. If you lie about who you are, you might become somebody else. When you want to change who you are, you don't just go buy a new shirt. You make a choice and you stick with it. I wanted to be somebody else. Somebody with a different life, in a bigger badder city with bigger badder things for me to do late at night when I was in a bad mood."
"Now?"
"Now I like my life. I have good friends. I know how to cook. I've got credentials and work experience. I know how to deal with people who reenact Edward II's death scene with real props. For fun. Because they think everybody should take such things with a smile. I know how to take care of myself. I like what I do. I just hate it here. I hate the people who control my life. I hate the fact that the law might well be on my side, but it's not close enough to be of any help. What do you do when justice is too remote and the entity that oppresses you is rich and can afford lawyers to shut you up when you point out that they're being unfair, or that they're committing crimes? I can be a thorn in their sides, but I can't do much to actually hurt them."
"Nine months, love."
"I want to hurt them for fucking with me."
"They're an institution. As such, they don't feel pain. You would exhaust yourself, and they would become even more twisted in order to punish you and shut you up."
"It's not fair."
"The system isn't fair. Life isn't fair. You know what you do, right?"
"Outlive them and spit on their graves?"
"Close."
"What then?"
"Delight in the fact that they probably all go home at night to spouses who'd rather clean the bathroom than fuck them."
She laughed. Adrian smoothed her hair.
"Almost done, kitten. Then you can start a new adventure."
"They always seem like a lot more fun when you're not the one having them."
"Have an adventure with me, kitten?"
"Can it involve sadism?"
"Oh yes."
"No knocking me up."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
"I love you."
"I know."
"You shouldn't call me that," Adrian responded automatically, "and you'll be fine."
"Nine months until I'm shot of this hell hole," she responded, almost lightly. "That's the gestation period of a human fetus. You could knock me up right now and during Commencement, my water could break on the President's shiny expensive shoes. 'Sorry, Prez, my bad...' Right as he's handing me my diploma and expecting me to look photogenic and happy to be there."
"Your parents want you to be there. You're their only daughter. It would hurt them if you skipped your own graduation ceremony."
She pouted, irritation coursing through her. "It's not like I even like this place. A few cool teachers, yes, and friends to die for, but as an institution, I'm pretty sure they trump all others for pure sadism."
He grinned wickedly. "Am I to understand that you've stopped liking the occasional bit of sadism?"
She wrinkled her nose and said, "No more sadism for you. Punishment."
"How cruel of you."
She laughed, but then was serious again. "I hate it here, Adrian. Hate. Not just mild dislike. Not like they sometimes annoy me, but all in all it's been a blast. I hate it."
"If you could go back, would you do it differently?"
"I was thinking about that tonight in the lab while I was cleaning. If I hadn't gone here, I wouldn't have gotten in touch with you when I was looking for somewhere else to go."
"No."
"And you wouldn't have said to me, 'Wherever you go, there you are.'"
"I would not have."
"And I wouldn't have realized that I wanted to leave for the wrong reason."
"And now?"
"Now I want to leave because I hate this place. Not because I hate myself."
"Is there a difference?" he asked curiously.
She stopped to think. "Yes. Before I wanted to be somewhere where nobody knew me so that I could start over. So that I could lie without anybody noticing it. If you lie long enough, you start to think its true. If you lie about who you are, you might become somebody else. When you want to change who you are, you don't just go buy a new shirt. You make a choice and you stick with it. I wanted to be somebody else. Somebody with a different life, in a bigger badder city with bigger badder things for me to do late at night when I was in a bad mood."
"Now?"
"Now I like my life. I have good friends. I know how to cook. I've got credentials and work experience. I know how to deal with people who reenact Edward II's death scene with real props. For fun. Because they think everybody should take such things with a smile. I know how to take care of myself. I like what I do. I just hate it here. I hate the people who control my life. I hate the fact that the law might well be on my side, but it's not close enough to be of any help. What do you do when justice is too remote and the entity that oppresses you is rich and can afford lawyers to shut you up when you point out that they're being unfair, or that they're committing crimes? I can be a thorn in their sides, but I can't do much to actually hurt them."
"Nine months, love."
"I want to hurt them for fucking with me."
"They're an institution. As such, they don't feel pain. You would exhaust yourself, and they would become even more twisted in order to punish you and shut you up."
"It's not fair."
"The system isn't fair. Life isn't fair. You know what you do, right?"
"Outlive them and spit on their graves?"
"Close."
"What then?"
"Delight in the fact that they probably all go home at night to spouses who'd rather clean the bathroom than fuck them."
She laughed. Adrian smoothed her hair.
"Almost done, kitten. Then you can start a new adventure."
"They always seem like a lot more fun when you're not the one having them."
"Have an adventure with me, kitten?"
"Can it involve sadism?"
"Oh yes."
"No knocking me up."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
"I love you."
"I know."