Abner Albright
As he stuffed his binder away, Abner had that unusual Good Samaritan feeling that he did his righteous deed for the day - especially since it allowed him to assist one of the smartest people in the school. "No problem," the teen said cooly, running a hand through his hair. Fairly independent, Abner didn't care much for impressing people despite his subconscious need for regular interaction, but he liked to appear reliable amongst students he considered on his level. It was abnormal, but an odd thought of joining the Student Council, even, ran briskly through his head, but he dismissed it considering his generally introverted - and sometimes brusque or arrogant - disposition. All you did was help with a room number, the Senior teased. It's not like you abolished Michelle Obama's lunch implements.
The thought was a funny one, but it was not worth a random chuckle. It would only make things that more awkward than they already were. In his frequent exposure to ungainly situations, Abner knew that conversation alleviated awkwardity, and stagnancy only made it worse - and certainly, with the way the air was thick with words unspoken, there was a whole lot of stagnancy at that very moment.
It wasn't as if he could walk away, waving with a quick 'see you at class' and it all would be over and done with. Even if he liked to heckle at late kids or make fun of primadonnas (once again, all in his mind), Abner knew what it meant to politely engage in discourse - and he also knew that this particular conversation tended to have many gaping holes. One statement here, a tense silence followed, one reply there, another quiet after. The best way to do it was to carry on until they reached their class, as painful the continual chatter may be. Of course, Abner had nothing against India. He liked her, and if not, respected her, but risking another blunder after only 20 minutes was enough to ruin Abner's entire week.
It was best to play it cool, he decided, ignoring the reluctant thoughts. There were plenty of worse situations to be immersed in, and strengthening a new acquaintance was certainly not one of them - and if Abner could make it the whole year, with only one girl to occasionally converse with, the teen would do just fine.
Abner cleared his throat. "I didn't know you were into writing," the boy commented, swaying back and forth. It was another nervous habit of his, and he tried to stymie it whenever possible. This time, however, Abner had the likeness of a metronome, but the thought of another prospective writer in his thin acquaintance circle excited him enough to let the mannerism go. Creative Writing was not a required class, of course, and Abner hoped it would be his all-time favorite elective.
