Facing the music. (Set whe ever it seems appropriate)
Alec was in a funk. A full on feline sulk. If he'd had the form he would have had a lashing tail and been using a paw to clean his whiskers in a way that told the world that he was above it.
As it was he held silent the entire ride to the garage after school and then slunk up to the roof of the car his father was working on. Normally he would do homework but today he just lay belly down, chin resting on his crossed arms and an envelope clenched in one hand. He watched his dad work for a while in silence. He could this time because the car didn't have a hood. It had been squished in an accident.
It's was a letter from Miss Oliver, the music teacher. Ben always got letters when he was in trouble. Not that Alec couldn't get into trouble. He was always in trouble for his bad language. But it happened so often that the teachers had stopped sending letters. They just called every Friday with a laundry list of 'naughty' things he's said. Alec didn't get it. They were just friggin words.
But the letter. The letter made him angry. He'd been good in music. He liked music. Especially since she started letting them play with the instruments. She's even told him that he could play with the piano during recess sometimes. She'd been nice to him and now she was sending a trouble letter home?
Eventually one arm extended down along the windshield, the letter extending even farther to be nearly in Dean's face. Alec's face was still arranged into a grumpy sulk.
As it was he held silent the entire ride to the garage after school and then slunk up to the roof of the car his father was working on. Normally he would do homework but today he just lay belly down, chin resting on his crossed arms and an envelope clenched in one hand. He watched his dad work for a while in silence. He could this time because the car didn't have a hood. It had been squished in an accident.
It's was a letter from Miss Oliver, the music teacher. Ben always got letters when he was in trouble. Not that Alec couldn't get into trouble. He was always in trouble for his bad language. But it happened so often that the teachers had stopped sending letters. They just called every Friday with a laundry list of 'naughty' things he's said. Alec didn't get it. They were just friggin words.
But the letter. The letter made him angry. He'd been good in music. He liked music. Especially since she started letting them play with the instruments. She's even told him that he could play with the piano during recess sometimes. She'd been nice to him and now she was sending a trouble letter home?
Eventually one arm extended down along the windshield, the letter extending even farther to be nearly in Dean's face. Alec's face was still arranged into a grumpy sulk.