Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by ᴋɪᴛsᴜɴᴀᴇ, Nov 3, 2014.

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  1. .: GUARDIAN :.
    It was early Monday morning. The move had been hard, and Raeleigh wasn't exactly thrilled about it. The night before had been rough what with her nightmares. She had them often, the same one each time. You'd think after a while it wouldn't phase you, but this was different. Though, the brunette realized a long time ago that she couldn't let her mother know about it. The woman had enough to worry about. Rae knew it downed her mother that her only child hardly ever told her what was going on with her life, but it was for her mom's sake. To be honest, the fifteen year old had a lot going on.

    They say everything feels heavier in your teenage years. Rae was going through things that were naturally heavy, so one couldn't simply imagine how she'd been feeling. Lonely, for the most part. She usually shut the world away and did her own thing; reality had a way of keeping her head out of the clouds where she wanted it to be, though. Raeleigh worried a lot, even about things that weren't her problem or were out of her control. It's just how she was, and still is to this day.

    "Rae, do you need me to take you to school?" Ms. Jones called, "We'll have to leave early, I have to be at the restaurant at seven forty-five! Breakfast is ready, but you need to get finished up there!"

    Raeleigh looked at herself in the mirror. Where there was undeniable beauty, she saw none. The faint sunlight that poured into the room from her draped window cast upon her rich colored hair, making it shine. Today she wore her usual, yet comfortable attire, which consisted of a t-shirt, denim shorts, and light blue converse shoes which matched her mesmerizing eyes.

    "Coming!" Rae called after a moment, voice carrying our of her doorway and downstairs.

    Their house was actually two stories and quite nice. It was way out of what they would have been able to afford, but her mother's friend bought the house for them as well as nice furniture. It had been beyond kind. Now was the problem of making the paper to keep it, and Raeleigh's mom had trouble doing that. She was actually in bad shape, and even though she hadn't told her daughter this, Rae had recently found out her mother had cancer- that explained why she looked worn down and thin all the time.

    It tore Raeleigh apart, and that night, she sobbed, but she had to be strong for her mother. It's all she could do, sadly.


    A couple hours passed and Raeleigh wound up just walking to school; it was only a few blocks away. As she neared the entrance, she saw how huge this High School was and she shrunk down a bit, especially at all the looks she was getting. Seemed everyone still managed to know everyone, and she was not everyone.

    "How am I supposed to find my first class?" Rae mumbled, taking out her schedule, "Seriously? No room numbers? No locker number? Thanks, so very much, Eastwood High, for making this easy for me."

    Sarcasm was her expertise.
  2. He'd been awake half an hour before the alarm had gone off, the short-lived beep beep beep of the clock's broken speaker sounding like a clap of thunder in the dimly lit and silent room. Benjamin's hand had been resting on the reset button in anticipation of this, yet he still found himself jumping at the noise; it was not until a few moments later that he recollected his wits enough to fumble in the dark for the button again. With an abnormally loud click, the clock went silent and the room returned to its undisturbed state. Seven in the morning, and to think just a day ago he'd slept until twelve in the afternoon with little a care in the world. But then, that was the difference between summer break and school.

    After tidying up his bed, Benjamin went to getting himself 'ready and presentable' as his family had used in replacement to 'getting ready'. His brown hair sat brushed down and to the left in its usual wave pattern, his glasses perched midway down his nose, and a short-sleeved blue button-down shirt sat above a pair of khaki shorts. With that finished, he made his way to the first floor of the two-story townhouse he called home. As a 'gift' to his entrance into high school, his parents had given him his own room and forced his younger brothers into the guest room. The kitchen, as it usually was this early, was empty. Like clockwork, he rummaged through the pantry and produced a breakfast bar from where it stood on the top shelf.

    Eating on the move, Benjamin hastily gathered his belongings into his messenger bag and was out within five minutes into the already uncomfortably warm Floridian morning. His family had managed to rent out a garage, which luckily the unit was right across the street from the house; he didn't want to spend any more time outside in the summer than he needed to. As usual, they had not locked it from the inside, and so opening it without the remote was just a matter of sliding the door open enough for him to slide under. Inside there were scattered piles of boxes yet to be placed into the new house, though secretly Benjamin suspected these were one of his parent's belongings ready to leave when necessary. His bike stood where it usually did, and without delay, he was out of the garage with the door shut and his bag slung behind him.


    The ride had taken him twenty minutes and another five to find the bike rack. So far he had not seen anyone from his older school, but he was sure that would change later. For now, it was a matter of finding his home room and getting in before the bell rung. It was seven forty five, and he didn't want to push anything to the limit on his first day. Leave that for later he thought ruefully, dismounting from his bike and hooking it to the rack with a rugged and torn lock. Taking a moment to glance around the courtyard, Benjamin began back down the path he had taken to find the rack with his bag bobbing at his side.

    Already the crowds were thinning: final farewells from parent to child, disbanding social clusters realizing the time, and teachers making their way to work as late as their students. Pausing at the front door, Benjamin took a deep breath and swung it open, taking his first step into the next four years.

    And do I feel older? No.

    But there would be time for that.
  3. Time had not been kind to Raeleigh. It was seven fifty-eight by the time she found her locker; it didn't take long, but being so OCD, she had to organize things and make sure her binders and books were neat and easy to reach. Couldn't have things cluttered. Then she managed to have trouble finding her first class, of course. After asking for directions from peers that merely laughed at her and seniors that embarrassed her, hell, even other teachers that ignored her, she managed to be almost an hour late.

    Thankfully, English was her first class, and it was easy for her. Or, it should be. Rae wasn't sure how different things would be in High School. The brunette tried to slip in all quiet like, so she wouldn't be noticed, but what actually happened was quite the opposite. The door squeaked and everyone's attention was drawn to her; most were snickering and whispering about her and how she dressed, shallow things like that. The teacher, a firm old lady by the name of Ms. Peacock, glared her down like she was the worst student Eastwood had to offer.

    "Ah, Miss Jones! I see you decided to show up on your first day, forty-five minutes late. I can already see I'll have trouble with you."

    Raeleigh's temper fired. How dare she? How could she have the audacity? "Ma'am, this is my first day, and I'm not even from Florida. I tried to ask for directions, but-"

    The teacher cut her off with a wave of the hand. "Butts are for sitting, Raeleigh. I suggest you make use of yours."

    The class erupted with laughter, and the girl stomped over to an empty desk. In fact, she noticed only one out of the rest not laughing, and that was who she'd sat beside. A guy with neat hair and glasses that probably needed to be pushed up; he wore a blue button-up and khaki shorts. Though he seemed more focused on his work. Rae didn't care to look any longer, so she stared at her desk, annoyance clear upon her facial expression. This was going to be a very long four years.
  4. First period: English. It wasn't the worst first period to have, Benjamin had to admit that, but it certainly was not the best pick. This was made worse the second the teacher had entered the room - an older, more established woman who, no doubt, believed her view on all matters was superior to everyone's. He'd had that feeling in Literature the previous year and learned to learn the English teacher, not the course. Once she had begun speaking in her harsh, strained voice, he had found it difficult to pay any attention. That had worked about until his attention had actually been needed. Something had been said, something he hadn't caught, and a moment later the teacher - Peacock - had shouted for his attention.

    "Yes ma'am?" Benjamin asked, jolting back to focus in the midst of the entire class looking him over.

    "There you go, Benjamin Webb, inattentive." Peacock said in a biting tone. "Your name, and something about you, Benjamin."

    He paused for a moment, deciding that a witty or equally sharp remark would be out of place. He decided on a middle ground. "Benjamin Webb, and I am a bit of a daydreamer."

    The class gave a chuckle as Peacock merely sighed and continued down the row. Once that was finished, she began to prowl her domain, handing each student a sheet of paper turned face-down. A shame to a last name that implies a beautiful creature. Ben thought, not bothering to attempt to turn over the paper; the whip would crack again if he dared. Then the thought entered his head beautiful, but a show-off. That's fifty percent of the requirements. At last, when the potential death-threats were all sent, she returned to her roost at the front of the room and cleared her throat.

    "This is due at the end of the week. You may flip over the paper and read before you ask questions." Was her only remark on the matter, her tone surprisingly cordial for a change.

    Flipping the paper over, Benjamin looked it over and grimaced. A day-one paper, two pages, over an 'interesting and insightful view' to their summer break. He glanced around the room to see the other reactions of students, to which they were about the same. No one had any questions, oddly enough, and the bird of prey sat content in its nest. After a five minute lull in the noise level, she spoke again in the same, disturbingly cheerful tone.

    "You have the rest of this period to begin brainstorming, but be warned, this is the last opportunity you will receive to work on this in class. Am I understood?"

    A general din of 'yes ma'ams' answered her and the room fell silent once more save for the scraping of pencils on paper accompanied by the creaks and groans of moving desks. Benjamin sat, starting flatly at the blank sheet of paper Peacock had provided. Insightful and interesting. Interesting and insightful. Nothing came to mind. He had sat around and taken up space, though he doubted that would prove to fit either of the mentioned criteria. He'd think of something, he didn't doubt that, but that would most likely involve some embellishment of the truth.

    Some time later the door creaked open, to which Benjamin was oblivious. Probably the bird leaving the rook, nothing more. Then she snapped and Benjamin found himself glancing upward to see the events unfold. The whip had struck again, and a defeated girl - Jones, that's all he'd heard - began her way towards him. Feigning ignorance, he glanced back down at the paper and scribbled some loose ideas until the girl sat next to him. Taking advantage of the din of chatter that had begun, he turned to her and grinned.

    "Don't worry, she whipped me too." He shrugged, then added. "And make that everyone else - day-one paper."
  5. Raeleigh's attention was directed back at the boy whom had spoken to her. Finally, a friendly face in the sea of High School. "How fun," she responded, "Good thing I'm an okay writer. I can write a three page essay in an hour if I like the topic. That is, if."

    The brunette flipped the paper over and scanned over its contents. "Interesting and insightful," Rae echoed, "There wasn't really anything interesting or insightful about my Summer. I'm sure Peacock won't mind me making up events? Finding a time machine sounds interesting. I could write about how I was a rebellious pirate with a missing eye and a parrot for a friend. Or maybe I raised a dinosaur. That's all very interesting, wouldn't you agree?"

    Raeleigh managed a laugh. It was a sound that hadn't been emitted from her mouth in a while. "Our English teacher is going to hate me before the week is over."

    The girl grinned in a playful manner, and gazed intently at Benjamin, awaiting any further response from him. Rae had a hard time making friends, so when the opportunity was to arise, she'd take it. Of course she had to push back that soft-spoken and shy demeanor. To be honest, she'd almost frozen up when he talked to her.

    Raeleigh planned to ask the guy's name in a few minutes, since that would probably help so she'd know how to address him, at least, other than an arsenal of attention-grabbers; things like, hey, hello, dude over there in the blue shirt, or, hey glasses. Rae stifled a giggle over her own ridiculous thoughts, and then went back to waiting patiently.
  6. Benjamin chuckled at the comment and replied. "Something tells me she won't have a sense of humor about this. Call me crazy, but I think she doesn't like fun."

    He took another glance at the paper and grimaced. The assignment wasn't going to be any good, that much he was sure of, and they hadn't even made it to second period. Who was to say every teacher wasn't going to do some token 'getting to know you' assignment? It was a common trend, and, he had to admit, relatively easy, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend all of his free time this week working on explaining himself over and over again. If it came to that, he wagered copy-pasting the same paper over and over again wouldn't hurt.

    "But, as it is, it sounds much better than saying 'I did nothing.' Because that's exactly what I did, you?" He asked after a momentary pause, taking his gaze off the paper for once.

    It was only about five minutes until class change now, and Peacock had lost what control she had over the room. Raeleigh's late arrival and first-day anxiety had degraded her hold on the room, and so the students had begun chattering among themselves while she sat before a literature textbook casually flipping through the pages. Her idea of fun. Oh well, it was an English teacher...
  7. "For the most part I did nothing. I got a job to help support my moth-" Raeleigh trailed off, an paused a moment before deciding the truth wasn't a good idea, "I mean, to pay for some of my own stuff. Feels good to earn your own money. Even if it isn't much."

    Rae didn't know why she'd shied away from telling him that her mom was in a financial crisis. Well, she did. Being poor didn't exactly make you liked around school, since everyone was so judgmental. Usually she didn't care, but she wanted a friend. This new person seemed nice enough, so why should she risk ruining it?

    "Anyway," she quickly changed the subject, "My name's Raeleigh Jones. Your name?"

    The bell rung in the hallway, signaling that first period was over. The other students acted like maniacs and leaped from their seats, racing out of the classroom. It seemed all the groups were accounted for. The jocks left first, punching each other and making crude jokes; the preppy girls behind them, smacking on gum and talking about guys. Behind them, the normal and not un-bearingly annoying people, who usually gained the titles of geeks, nerds, metal-heads, etc.

    Rae slowly stood up, and smiled down at Benjamin.
  8. Benjamin had been preparing his things for when the bell rang, thankful that the mammoth literature textbook had not been passed onto him quite yet. Over a thousand pages, doubtful he'd use nearly a fourth of them. He'd still need to stop by his locker after class and dispose of his notebooks and the like - he'd arrived too late to really settle in - and hope he wasn't late to his next class, Biology. With any luck, not every teacher was like Peacock. And still, when the bell rang, he found himself jolting out of mild surprise. Regaining his composure, he faced Raeleigh again and answered in an almost composed way.

    "Benjamin, Ben, anything works, really." He shrugged, in no rush to join the crowd rushing for the door.

    With that, he slung his back across his shoulder and stood up, seeing that the crowd had thinned enough to pass through. Offering a cheeky, if not uncalled for, smile to Peacock, Benjamin strode to the front door and waited for Raeleigh outside, seeing the hordes and droves of students frantically dashing in an attempt to either get to class or be the stellar example of an on-time, willing learner. He'd never seen the thrill in that, but then, maybe it got different with age. He hoped not.
  9. Raeleigh happened to be lucky enough to still get trampled, even when she thought the coast was clear. The brunette laid sprawled out on the rather clean floor( It wouldn't last, this was just the first day ), clearly not amused at the least. Her textbooks, binders, and other various educational items rested near her; however, her sketchbook slid into the middle of the hallway, tripping some senior in a varsity jacket. Now this- this had amused Rae.

    As she sat up, a grin was upon her face. Though, it faltered as quickly as it had come. Why? Apparently seniors, especially the jerky ones, didn't appreciate slipping on a freshman's sketchbook. One would think he would just spit out some insults, but, he did the worst possible thing, and picked her book of drawings up in an annoyed manner. Everyone still in the hallway watched, either snickering, or casting worried glances and whispers left and right. This guy must be popular or something.

    Raeleigh, at this point, had forgotten that Ben was behind her. Now, she was focused on making sure the senior didn't do something rash. "Hey, can you please hand that to me? It was an accident, I just fell, and-"

    "Shut up," The senior, apparently named Derick as she'd overheard from the crowd, snapped harshly. Rae was getting tired of being interrupted, "I don't care if it was an accident. Why don't you just go back to where you came from, huh? No one wants you here."

    Raeleigh ignored her sensitive side, which normally would have been hurt and embarrassed, and stayed silent, looking at the floor to avoid the stares.

    With that, Derick laughed at her like she was pathetic, and tore as many pages as he could fit into his fist out of the book, crumpling them before throwing the sketchbook to the floor and stepping on it. Smirking, he threw the balled up paper and walked away, clearly satisfied with his act.

    Rae's eyes darkened. That sketchbook had been more important to her than someone would care to know. The girl simply walked over to the sketchbook, and then threw it in the nearest garbage as well as her other ruined drawings. It held three year's worth of her artwork, and, she was extremely good. Such beautiful drawings that depicted what she was feeling.
    Rae then gathered up her things and avoided talking to Ben, trying to hide the water that had made its way to her eyes. She only cast a bittersweet smile his way as she gathered her books and strode away to her next class, which happened to be math- her worst subject.

    Raeleigh had accidentally left on drawing behind, which still rested, crumpled up and on the floor. No tears, though. It could still be seen if unfolded properly. It was one of her, sitting on her knees and leaning over an older woman, whom appeared to be her mother. In the drawing, Rae gripped her mother's shirt and tear stains could faintly be seen. This had been done the night she'd found out about her mom's cancer. Though, now, it just laid forgotten and on the ground. Whether it'd ever be seen again by any eyes was up to fate.
  10. He'd seen the whole thing, the fall to the ground, the senior tripping, and he didn't care for it. Of course he hadn't attempted to intervene; he didn't want a name on day one as 'that kid who tried to take on a senior athlete.' It truthfully pained him to watch it, but he kept telling himself there would be nothing he could do until after the catastrophe. Elbowing his way past one of the lackeys of the one who had thrown the book, Ben took advantage of the crowds settling back to moving or gossiping about what had taken place and picked up what he could from the tattered remains of the book.

    Not that he'd ever admit it, but he had attempted to get what he could out of the bin as well, though that had proved useless. It was at the bottom, and he couldn't just reach into it and tear up the entire hallway grabbing for the pad. And again, when he was late to Biology, he merely used the classic 'new school, new day' excuse when questioned why he was late. He didn't know it quite yet, but the kid he'd sit next to, Maxavier Lamantia, would become one of his most treasured friends in the years to come. But for the moment, it was a rather tense and silent greeting as he scooted his lab stool next to him; the rest of the seats were taken.


    "Maxavier if you must." Was his reply, with a small smirk.

    "Maxavier it is, then." Ben whispered back as the teacher, Mr. Ludwig, gave them the glare that said plain as day 'hush'.

    The lesson from there, if it could be called that, was the basic introduction to biology. The sort a middle school teacher would give, something he apologized for several times throughout the lesson. If it was possible, the introduction had made Ben feel more unsure of the subject than he had when it began. Still, it was better than English, something he made a point of conveying to Max. He didn't care for the heads-up much, instead preferring to go on a tangent on why Biology was a waste of time as they left the classroom. Ben had to admit that he agreed, though they were all stuck in the same boat here.

    He'd have to find Raeleigh by lunch, or at lunch. It would be a shame to see the sketch go to waste, he wagered, though he hadn't looked at it. Art was a sort of private window to him, something shown with permission or approval. To look at it now was an invasion of privacy, something no one had quite gotten a solid reason for from him. He didn't care, though. His reasons were his own, and he'd keep it that way for as long as he could.
  11. High School didn't change her views on education at the least. It was still just a place she was forced to attend, like it had been the entirety of her past years. This isn't fun. It isn't thrilling. It's just annoying. Maybe it was because so far, Raeleigh was a a social outcast, and when she tried to reach out, she was shot down. What was she doing wrong?

    Rae liked to say she didn't care. Yet, she did, however much she didn't want to. Of course she cared. Raeleigh tried to remember that she wasn't the only kid that grew up this way, surrounded by people who say those rhymes about sticks and stones, as if broken bones hurt more than the names she got called, and she got called them all. And so, she grew up believing no one would ever love her, that she'd be lonely forever, that she'd never meet someone to make her feel like the sun was something they built for her in their tool shed. So broken heart strings bled the blues as she tried to empty herself so she would feel nothing; you can't say that hurts less than a broken bone. That an ingrown life is something surgeons can cut away, that there’s no way for it to metastasize. It does.

    Raeleigh was eight years old, her first day of grade three, when she got called ugly. She got moved to the back of class so she would stop getting bombarded by spit balls, but the school halls were a battle ground, where she found herself day after wretched day. Raeleigh would stay inside for recess, because being outside was worse- outside, she'd have to rehearse running away, or learn to stand still like a statue, giving no clue that she was even there.

    In grade five, they taped a sign to her desk that read, beware of dog. To this day, she doesn't think she's beautiful. Kids used to say that she looked a wrong answer that someone tried to erase, but couldn't quite get the job done. They'll never understand that her definition of the word beauty is mom, and that beauty has slowly been dying along with that part of her. They don't see her heart before they see her skin, but she's always only ever been amazing.

    Raeleigh had a brother that died when she was small, she doesn't ever talk about him. He was a broken branch grafted onto a different family tree, and not because his parents opted for a different destiny. Raeleigh was only three when she became a mixed drink of one part left alone and two parts tragedy. Her brother started therapy in eighth grade, had a personality made up of tests and pills, meanwhile, Rae lived like the uphills were mountains and the downhills were cliffs. He, was four fifths suicidal, a tidal wave of anti-depressants and an adolescence of being called popper, one part because of the pills, ninety nine parts because of the cruelty. He tried to kill himself in grade ten, when a kid who could still go home to a loving father and a healthy mother had the audacity to tell him to get over it. As if depression is something that can be remedied by any of the contents found in a first aid kit. Sometimes being drug free has less to do with addiction and more to do with sanity.

    Raeleigh continues to think she'll be like her brother, who managed his suicide in grade twelve.

    To this day, she is a stick of TNT lit from both ends, could describe the way the sky bends in the moments before it falls. Despite an army of voices inside her head who all call her an inspiration, she remains a conversation piece between people who can't understand.

    Seems like each school has an arsenal of names that get updated each year, and if Raeleigh were to break in school, and no one chose to hear, would she make a sound? Is she just a background noise of a soundtrack stuck on repeat, when people say things like kids can be cruel?

    Every school she'd been to was a big top circus tent, and the pecking order went from acrobats to lion tamers, from clowns to carnies, all those were miles ahead from who she was, she was a freak. An oddity. Juggling depression and loneliness, playing solitaire spin the bottle, trying to kiss the wounded parts of herself and heal, but at night, while others slept, Rae kept walking the tightrope. Yeah, it was like hell. And yeah. Sometimes she fell. It was a practice.

    Raeleigh was beginning her to feel her fear of turning into her brother would soon fade. Because she was starting to realize, that all this shit is just debris, left over from when she finally decided to smash who she used to be, and if she couldn't see anything beautiful about herself, she needed to get a better mirror, look a little closer, stare a little longer. Because there was something inside of her that made her keep going despite everyone who told her to quit. She built a cast around her heart and she signed it herself, she signed it, they were wrong.

    Maybe she didn't belong to a group or clique, maybe they decided to pick Rae last basketball or everything, maybe she used to bring bruises and broken teeth to show and tell but never told, because how can you hold your ground if everyone around you wants to bury you beneath it. She had to believe they were wrong.

    They had to be wrong.

    Why else would she still be here?

    Raeleigh grew up learning to cheer on the underdog, because she saw herself in them; she stemmed from a root planted in the belief that she was not who she was called. She was not an abandoned car stalled out on the highway, and if in some way she was, don't worry, she only got out to get gas.

    Rae knew that she was going to be a graduate from the class of fuck off, I made it. Not the faded echoes of voices crying out names will never hurt me.

    Of course, they did.

    But Raeleigh's life would only ever be a balancing act that had less to do with pain, and more to do with beauty.

    Raeleigh thought this throughout the entire class, not really paying attention. It had felt like it'd been five minutes when the bell rung. The brunette sighed, and stood, walking out and to her next class. This period probably had lunch in between it.
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  12. As was expected, Ben's day was not difficult or engaging at all. Just the same speeches over and over, the 'Remember, it gets harder from here' - no doubt it would, but he would rather do something worth while instead of talking about one another. The same format 'name, something about you' and, at best, a detail about summer break. Algebra I, Human Geography, they were all the same ordeal of boring introductions and useless information. Better than work, but barely.

    After a particularly droll time in French I, it was time for lunch. Like most freshmen, Ben had the first lunch block. No seniors or upperclassmen to lord around the lot, which he enjoyed. At least they did that to help his sanity. After entering the rather well-to-do cafeteria, complete with four lines each decorated a different way to vaguely represent a food court, Ben passed the display entirely, lunch in his right hand. Put make-up on a pig and it still rolls in the mud.

    Taking a moment to scan the wide array of bland, yellow-surfaced tables before him, Benjamin began to walk forward when a tap on his shoulder caused him to jolt and turn around. Maxavier, standing there with a lunch tray in his hands.

    "Got in the line early. A shame 'early bird catches the worm' is probably literal in this case." He chuckled, scanning the room in turn. "Any idea where to sit, Benjamin?"

    "Wherever there aren't people, Maxavier." Ben allowed himself a smirk, taking the lead to the closest table that had been left untouched.

    All around him people had staked their claims already. Jocks to one area, fringers to another, preps over by the entrance, and so on. Still, the cliques had left gaps, and wherever those gaps were present, people like Maxavier and Benjamin filled them and formed separate islands who shared borders. No one talked outside their sphere, but they did not actively avoid one another. Personally, Ben hoped Raeleigh would stop by. He had the picture tucked away in his bag, which he had brought with him for safe-keeping. Trust did not come easy, particularly in a high school of potential pickpockets.

    "So," Ben began, "how dull has your day been?"

    "Don't get me started."
  13. Raeleigh skipped lunch- she wasn't that hungry, to be honest. She'd had breakfast for the first time in forever, this morning, and would gladly skip the terrible lunch the school had to offer. Something that would never change. The quality of the food. As she looked around for somewhere to sit, she was of course, wanting to be on her own. Today was dragging by so slowly, and it was dull. That is, beside the fact that she now had an enemy that ruined her form of a diary. Simply because of a mistake. People annoyed her.

    As Rae walked around aimlessly, she noticed Benjamin, and, well, another face she didn't recognize. Truthfully, she was hesitant to walk over and sit with them, especially after the horribly event in which Ben had been around to see. Also, she was shy around new faces. Benjamin had been a different story- not that she knew exactly why. Maybe he just had a good vibe or for once, she had a spark of courage. Ignoring her ridiculous fears, she quietly neared them and sat at their table, giving a nervous smile.

    "Hey, Ben," Raeleigh said quietly, "Sorry if I interrupted. I just didn't really know anyone else, and, yeah."

    Well thought out explanation, Rae snorted mentally, Oh, hi, Ben. You're the only person I've talked to so I'm going to follow you around and try not to look like a shy fool, which is, actually, in fact, exactly, what I am... And yeah.

    Raeleigh's eyes glanced over to Maxavier, and she offered a curt, yet friendly smile, still scolding herself inside her mind.
  14. Ben grinned up at Raeleigh and prompted for her to sit down across from the table. Maxavier rose an amused eyebrow at Benjamin, but he tossed the gesture aside. For now they were the only three at their end of the table, but that was most likely subject to change in the coming weeks. For now, though, they at least had found some peace and quiet in the din of the cafeteria. He spotted three lunch monitors and inwardly grimaced; what place needed three?

    "We were just talking about how dreadful today's been." Ben explained with a chuckle, to which Maxavier nodded with agreement and rolled his eyes.

    With a sudden jolt, Ben reached into his back and pulled out a plain folder, handing it to Raeleigh with a sympathetic smile. The folder itself was in decent condition; it was one of those plain, khaki-colored types you'd see in a filing cabinet. Maxavier's eyebrow rose once again, but Ben didn't take notice as he slid it over the table. While going to close his bag again, he spoke in a mildly awkward and interrupted way.

    "I figured it would be, you know, a shame to see all of it go. It was a shitty thing they did this morning, and I figured, I'd..." He stopped, his hand scratching at the back of his head.
  15. Raeleigh's smile returned, a bit more pleasantly surprised than before. "Thanks," Rae said, tone thankful, as she took the folder from Benjamin. Her eyes were alight with a new found happiness. Her smile widened as he stopped and scratched the back of his head. It had been a cute action, but Rae didn't dwell on that thought too long.

    The brunette opened the folder and skimmed through what drawings had been saved. Most had tears on them, but they weren't too bad. Raeleigh figured she could always draw more. Or draw those few pieces again, if they meant enough. It meant a lot that Benjamin cared enough to do that for her- most people wouldn't.

    Raeleigh then glanced at Maxavier, "So, you must be a friend of Ben's? I'm just guessing; My name's Raeleigh."
  16. Now it was Maxavier's turn to squirm as he shifted his gaze to Raeleigh. "Yeah, Ben's alright."

    "Oh, you called me Ben, I'm so touched." Benjamin japed back, smirking.

    "Don't get used to it." He replied with a joking tone.

    Maxavier stood up and walked to dump off his trash at the bins located towards the center of the cafeteria. As he got up, Ben shuffled around his bag, reorganizing the contents for a moment. When that was finished, he glanced back up at Raeleigh and cocked his head to the right. Not wanting to bring up her lack of a lunch, he attempted to pass the gesture off and asked.

    "So how's your day been going?" Ben asked, partially regretting the answer that might follow.
  17. Raeleigh arched an eyebrow, but seemed more amused than anything. "Best day of my life," she said in a sarcastic, yet playful tone. "I haven't really met anyone worth remembering. Well, I mean, except you. I mean..."

    Rae trailed off, and furrowed her brows. Hopefully he wouldn't have taken that the wrong way. Honestly, it could have been taken two ways, and one would have made things awkward and the other way would have made him feel bad- that is, if he didn't understand exactly what she meant. The blue-eyed girl smiled shyly. "I'm sure it'll get better as I settle in. I like it here in Florida, except for the heat. My house is nice and yeah, everything's great. The school's okay, I'm just not crazy about the people in it."
  18. "Yeah, funny thing is that they never quite tell you how bad the heat gets here. Lived here my whole life, never got used to it." Ben replied, avoiding the subject of people. Truth was he didn't know how she had meant it and didn't want to pursue it. It seemed Maxavier wasn't coming back, for when Ben glanced away from Raeleigh for a moment he was nowhere in sight. No matter; he'd be there the next day...and the next, and the one after that.

    "Oh, anyone given you a tour 'round town? There's a lot of neat stuff around here. I mean, the beach is never far, but you can see sand and waves anywhere up the coast." He paused. "Anyway, yeah."

    Luckily their lunch period neared around forty-five minutes. His last school had offered only twenty-five, which had invariably ruined sociability for everyone. He didn't know where the time came from, but he supposed that it all added up in the end. If anything, it meant shorter classes, and that was always a perk. Perhaps not in terms of actual education, but then, what good did a few minutes tacked on do?
  19. "No, not really. My mom and I moved down here with the help of some family friends, but they actually just sold us the house for cheap once they moved away- we don't really know anyone to give us a tour or anything. I did walk here today, though. I saw the beach; that's probably the best part about the move so far. I promised myself I'd go down to the water sometime this week," Raeleigh smiled.

    "I had at least hoped I'd get lucky enough to move somewhere that had snow included in the weather. I've never seen real snow," Rae told him, "I just figure that it's easier to get warm than cool off. I still like it here, though."
  20. "Think you'd have time to take a look around later today?" Ben asked, still perusing around for Maxavier.

    Odds are he had truly left, so he finally relaxed and went back to eating his meal. The din around him had died down to a manageable murmur by comparison to what it had been just ten minutes ago, probably just a matter of getting reacquainted with the noise level. He wasn't looking forward to the last stretch of his day - study hall and PE, the two 'blow-off' courses of the year. Though, at least, those were meant to be boring and pose no challenge.
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