She nodded her head, sighing. "Yes, and not just your kidney; they take your soul, too. So you might have to give him your heart instead," she said, trying not to laugh. To her, it felt awfully wrong to joke about the subject, especially with the recent Ripper activity, and even worse to laugh about it, but she couldn't help it. Oh, how close she was to being morally bankrupt.
She shrugged. "I don't know, the uniform seemed to be a bit of a barrier against all things naughty. For a while it did. But you're correct. My schoolmates are supposed to be good children, but some highschoolers just stop caring if their parents are notified of their behavior," she told him, though she was certain he knew. She looked at her shoes when he mentioned parties. "Yes, plenty of them. I do have friends. But I, regardless of my risque joking, would rather be productive."
She rolled her eyes at him. "I don't mean it in the disgusting way you're proposing. It was just, we got a new math teacher a month or two ago, and it is a very long story, I'm sure you don't want to hear." What cop out.
"It's a good thing I don't have a soul, then. Or a heart, for that matter," said Skip without so much as missing a beat. If he seemed disturbed -- or even surprised -- but the direction in which their conversation had turned, he didn't show it in the least. "Perhaps my liver. I'm halfway done with pickling it, anyway."
He laughed, but did not look at her. "Katie, have you honestly never paid a visit to the internet? Uniforms are a staple in all things naughty, I am sorry to say," he said with the very briefest glimmers of smiles. For some reason he found his reflection in the tops of his shoes very interesting at that moment. "Don't tell me you haven't felt some twinge of senoritis. Lying doesn't become you."
'I'm sure you don't want to hear.' The words made Skip's smile broaden. She was asking him for permission to continue? Like she ever had to ask. "Oh, no, please -- I'm very interested in learning how this math teacher has corrupted you. Perhaps I should take some notes?"
Katie chose not to continue in that vein of the conversation, not caring to hear what else he lacked. Or did not lack, for that matter. She was going to say something about the weather, but began to choke, her face flushing, thoroughly embarrassed by what he said about uniforms being naughty. She really, really wished she had changed. Who knew what devious thoughts were running through his mind?
When she recovered, she cleared her throat. "I do frequent the internet, and I pay quite enough attention. Not enough to know just how naughty uniforms are, and not enough to develop some kind of dominatrix fetish either, so don't get your hopes up." She was trying to joke with him, but it all came out so wrong that she gave up talking for a moment.
She finally gave him a look suggesting she didn't want to talk about senioritis - the memory of her first C was quite fresh - and gave a sigh. "Fine, I'll tell you. We got a new math teacher, as I said, and he knew my father. He told me I reminded him of a joke. That didn't please me very much, but I listened to it to be polite." She paused for a moment, then continued. "It wasn't a very inappropriate joke, but I was unamused. He kept on telling jokes, and I had to get accustomed to them in order to learn anything. That's all. Nothing too horrible, really." She gave him another look, this one warning not to ask what the original joke had been
The flush of her cheeks summoned a satisfied smile that Skip was hard-pressed to smother back down. The dominatrix comment was what really piqued his interest, though. "Katie, the thought of you as a dominatrix had never even cross my mind," he began - and, believe it or not, it was the truth. "But thank you for the suggestion. I don't know if you really have the mettle to enter the world of S&M. As wonderful as you are, Katie, you're still far too innocent for those sorts of things." From the tone of his voice, it was more of a challenge than it was a statement.
He seemed unimpressed - or perhaps incredulous - by her anecdote; his expression wrought with the question 'Is that all?' Nevertheless, he humored her. "So I see. Tell me, if I keep telling you jokes, will you eventually find me funny, too? Or am I just getting my hopes up?" Once again he did not look at her, but observed the cracks in the sidewalk instead. (It was much more difficult to be forward with her in public.) A second or two passed and he debated asking what the original joke was, but the look she had given him was rather discouraging. So, he left it be.
For probably the first and last time in his entire life, Skip was glad a Star Bucks existed on nearly every corner of New York. He wasn't fond of the cold, and he wasn't especially fond of walking - and the two together was just absolutely abysmal. Instinctively, he held the door open for Katie, but instantly regretted the action. If he wasn't careful, she'd start thinking he was chivalrous.
She nodded her head, sighing. "Yes, and not just your kidney; they take your soul, too. So you might have to give him your heart instead," she said, trying not to laugh. To her, it felt awfully wrong to joke about the subject, especially with the recent Ripper activity, and even worse to laugh about it, but she couldn't help it. Oh, how close she was to being morally bankrupt.
She shrugged. "I don't know, the uniform seemed to be a bit of a barrier against all things naughty. For a while it did. But you're correct. My schoolmates are supposed to be good children, but some highschoolers just stop caring if their parents are notified of their behavior," she told him, though she was certain he knew. She looked at her shoes when he mentioned parties. "Yes, plenty of them. I do have friends. But I, regardless of my risque joking, would rather be productive."
She rolled her eyes at him. "I don't mean it in the disgusting way you're proposing. It was just, we got a new math teacher a month or two ago, and it is a very long story, I'm sure you don't want to hear." What cop out.
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"It's a good thing I don't have a soul, then. Or a heart, for that matter," said Skip without so much as missing a beat. If he seemed disturbed -- or even surprised -- but the direction in which their conversation had turned, he didn't show it in the least. "Perhaps my liver. I'm halfway done with pickling it, anyway."
He laughed, but did not look at her. "Katie, have you honestly never paid a visit to the internet? Uniforms are a staple in all things naughty, I am sorry to say," he said with the very briefest glimmers of smiles. For some reason he found his reflection in the tops of his shoes very interesting at that moment. "Don't tell me you haven't felt some twinge of senoritis. Lying doesn't become you."
'I'm sure you don't want to hear.' The words made Skip's smile broaden. She was asking him for permission to continue? Like she ever had to ask. "Oh, no, please -- I'm very interested in learning how this math teacher has corrupted you. Perhaps I should take some notes?"
Reply
Katie chose not to continue in that vein of the conversation, not caring to hear what else he lacked. Or did not lack, for that matter. She was going to say something about the weather, but began to choke, her face flushing, thoroughly embarrassed by what he said about uniforms being naughty. She really, really wished she had changed. Who knew what devious thoughts were running through his mind?
When she recovered, she cleared her throat. "I do frequent the internet, and I pay quite enough attention. Not enough to know just how naughty uniforms are, and not enough to develop some kind of dominatrix fetish either, so don't get your hopes up." She was trying to joke with him, but it all came out so wrong that she gave up talking for a moment.
She finally gave him a look suggesting she didn't want to talk about senioritis - the memory of her first C was quite fresh - and gave a sigh. "Fine, I'll tell you. We got a new math teacher, as I said, and he knew my father. He told me I reminded him of a joke. That didn't please me very much, but I listened to it to be polite." She paused for a moment, then continued. "It wasn't a very inappropriate joke, but I was unamused. He kept on telling jokes, and I had to get accustomed to them in order to learn anything. That's all. Nothing too horrible, really." She gave him another look, this one warning not to ask what the original joke had been
Reply
The flush of her cheeks summoned a satisfied smile that Skip was hard-pressed to smother back down. The dominatrix comment was what really piqued his interest, though. "Katie, the thought of you as a dominatrix had never even cross my mind," he began - and, believe it or not, it was the truth. "But thank you for the suggestion. I don't know if you really have the mettle to enter the world of S&M. As wonderful as you are, Katie, you're still far too innocent for those sorts of things." From the tone of his voice, it was more of a challenge than it was a statement.
He seemed unimpressed - or perhaps incredulous - by her anecdote; his expression wrought with the question 'Is that all?' Nevertheless, he humored her. "So I see. Tell me, if I keep telling you jokes, will you eventually find me funny, too? Or am I just getting my hopes up?" Once again he did not look at her, but observed the cracks in the sidewalk instead. (It was much more difficult to be forward with her in public.) A second or two passed and he debated asking what the original joke was, but the look she had given him was rather discouraging. So, he left it be.
For probably the first and last time in his entire life, Skip was glad a Star Bucks existed on nearly every corner of New York. He wasn't fond of the cold, and he wasn't especially fond of walking - and the two together was just absolutely abysmal. Instinctively, he held the door open for Katie, but instantly regretted the action. If he wasn't careful, she'd start thinking he was chivalrous.
Reply
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