Room 317, Friday Afternoon

[chief_cheerio]

Yeah, so Quinn was at loose ends once she got back from class and her workout. She even would have appreciated another crazy phone message, but no such luck

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[notmyownage]

Claudia wandered in some time after her sea dogs class and paused in the doorway, watching Quinn for a few moments.

". . . What are you doing?"

[chief_cheerio]

"Color-coding my sweaters," Quinn said, with a slight, defiant, tilt to her chin, as if it were a perfectly normal activity and not the first stop on the train to OCD crazytown.

[notmyownage]

Claudia nodded slowly, a bit the way one would when one's roommate was at the first stop on the train to OCD crazytown. ". . . Why?"

[chief_cheerio]

"So all of the pink sweaters are together, the blue ones are all together, the white ones..."

Quinn's wardrobe wasn't actually so large that there were an enormous number of sweaters, so she quickly ran out of examples to gesture at. She glanced over to Claudia.

"And because there is nothing to do today. At least this way I'm being productive."

In a train-to-crazytown kinda way.

[notmyownage]

What it must be like inside Quinn's mind. "I usually take something apart when I get that bored."

[chief_cheerio]

Oh, it was a delightful mixture of bitchiness, religious indoctrination, self-centeredness, obsession with being perfect, and .... some niceness. Somewhere.

Just then, the niceness won out.

"I know." Okay, not that much niceness. "Is there anything you're working on that won't break if I breathe on it?"

[notmyownage]

"Most of it, so long as you're not, like, trying to blow out a birthday candle and you haven't been drinking heavily." She'd mostly been distracted with software issues, lately.

She hopped up on her bed and crossed her legs. "So . . . if some older guy you hadn't seen in, like, six years suddenly emailed you to see how you were, would that be weird?"

[chief_cheerio]

"Depends." Quinn wrinkled her nose as she went to sit on her own bed. "Is it like a checking on a little sister thing, or more" -- she made her voice flirtatious -- "'hiiiii, are you done being jailbait'?"

[notmyownage]

"I think it's mostly the first? He was my brother's physics professor. But I seriously never heard anything from him the whole time I was back in Minneapolis."

[chief_cheerio]

"Hmmm." Quinn wasn't sure. "I'd say kind of weird, but probably harmless? Maybe he's just been thinking about your brother lately for some reason. Are you going to answer?"

[notmyownage]

"Yeah. I won't, like, tell him where I am or anything, but he was pretty cool, you know?"

[chief_cheerio]

"That's good," Quinn said, twirling a piece of hair. ".... wait, if he's still in Minneapolis, how come you won't tell him where you are? Flying down to bug you would be creepy."

[notmyownage]

"Exactly. And he doesn't really need to know, right? We can talk online without him knowing I'm not still in Minnesota."

[chief_cheerio]

"Right," Quinn agreed, doubtfully. "I'm just missing the part where he has to think you're still up there."

[notmyownage]

"He doesn't have to. I'm just . . . letting him think whatever he already things."

[chief_cheerio]

Quinn still didn't get it, so she nodded the way you would when you were pretty sure your roommate was dodging a question and moved on to something important.

"How much older is he?" she asked. "Cute older or gross older?"