"Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit..." Victor mutters to himself as he comes into his room at lunch time, forgetting to close the door behind him. He strips off his clothes, throws on his pj's and goes under the covers.
"They're GOING to kill me." He yells out from under his duvet. "Note to self, never write anything ever again, while pissed off." He is writing off the rest of the day, he's not going to anymore of his classes. Call it a mental health day. He's sure he's going to spend the next month is detention because of this, might as skip the rest of the day, it's not like he can get in anymore trouble then he's already in.
A few minutes later, an envelope slides under Victor's door. It contains his letter -- clipped from the newspaper and corrected here and there in red ink -- as well as a single sheet of the school's stationary.
'Victor,
If you ever feel the need to discuss this, you know where my office is. If I am not in, you can reach me here: 555 - XXXX.
Paras entered the room, as his usual schedule demanded. He was so busy with school lately there'd been no time left over for much socialization. So it came as a bit of surprise when he walked in to find Victor stashed under the covers.
At first he'd thought to creep in, get what the supplies he needed for the second half of the day, and then creep back out. However, the sight of his typically outgoing friend hiding away from the world proved just too unsettling.
Vic upon hearing Paras, debated with himself about pretending he was sleeping, but in the end, the drama queen part of his personality comes out in full force, as he lets out a lout dramatic sigh, and folds the blankets back.
"No!" He almost shouts, and pulls the blankets back in their position over his head.
Vic folds the blankets down once more as he feels Paras sit down on his bed. "You know! One day I'm actually going to look up what that means." He says in a bit of a huff, and then manages a meek smile, he says that everytime Paras calls him that.
"I just did something stupid, stupid and very naive, and now I'm probably going to get detention for like a month. As soon as the Mr. Summers or any of the X-Men really, find out, because it was published." He says, in a very whiney tone. Victor could be such a suck when he wanted to be.
Paras paused for a moment to keep from saying, 'And what else is new?' Though publication did make this one a bit more interesting.
"Well, with a month in detention you'll have time to finally brush up some Hindi. Two birds, one stone, and such" he looked down at Vic on the bed, and gave him a half smile.
"You're real helpful." Vic said dryly, "Take a look in my bag, you'll find a copy of the Dailey Bugle in there. I wrote another letter to the editor while angry again, only difference this time, is that I actually sent it."
Paras shook his head, an exasperated expression that seemed to say "Oh, Victor. What am I going to do with you?" on his face, as he reached into the bag and pulled out the offending article.
It didn't take much time to skim, and even less time to start chuckling at. "I can see now I'm going to have to confiscate your stamps."
"Stamps? Who needs stamps when you have the internet?" Victor says crossing his eyes at Paras. "I think i need to formulate a really good argument as to why I thought this was a good idea. Because I'm sure I'll have someone breathing down my throat soon enough. "
He was going to make a crack about the being surprised that the JJJ being too old to know what the internet was, but his wrist watch's alarm went off.
"Oh, darn. Sorry, Vic, but I've gotta run. Advanced Bio-Chem Lab, and then an online Shakespeare course. Not to mention a five page paper in... oh, cripes. I don't remember."
He quickly grabbed up his stuff and bolted out the door, hollering back a slurred, "Lay-er!"
"They're GOING to kill me." He yells out from under his duvet. "Note to self, never write anything ever again, while pissed off." He is writing off the rest of the day, he's not going to anymore of his classes. Call it a mental health day. He's sure he's going to spend the next month is detention because of this, might as skip the rest of the day, it's not like he can get in anymore trouble then he's already in.
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'Victor,
If you ever feel the need to discuss this, you know where my office is. If I am not in, you can reach me here: 555 - XXXX.
Mr. Beaubier'
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At first he'd thought to creep in, get what the supplies he needed for the second half of the day, and then creep back out. However, the sight of his typically outgoing friend hiding away from the world proved just too unsettling.
"Vic," he queried, softly, "Are you alright?"
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"No!" He almost shouts, and pulls the blankets back in their position over his head.
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Perched on the edge of green-and-horny ones bed, Paras folded his arms over his lap, and asked, "What seems to be the problem, kutta?"
Paras hadn't been keeping up with the press lately, and no matter what he was always a couple days behind in school gossip. Always.
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"I just did something stupid, stupid and very naive, and now I'm probably going to get detention for like a month. As soon as the Mr. Summers or any of the X-Men really, find out, because it was published." He says, in a very whiney tone. Victor could be such a suck when he wanted to be.
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"Well, with a month in detention you'll have time to finally brush up some Hindi. Two birds, one stone, and such" he looked down at Vic on the bed, and gave him a half smile.
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It didn't take much time to skim, and even less time to start chuckling at. "I can see now I'm going to have to confiscate your stamps."
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"Oh, darn. Sorry, Vic, but I've gotta run. Advanced Bio-Chem Lab, and then an online Shakespeare course. Not to mention a five page paper in... oh, cripes. I don't remember."
He quickly grabbed up his stuff and bolted out the door, hollering back a slurred, "Lay-er!"
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