Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Apr 28, 2008 19:31:33 GMT -5
“Goodness, are you alright?” he asked as he slowly helped Kit onto the soft grass and helped her sit up against a tree.
Esmé and Beatrice hurried over, each kneeling down beside their friend.
“It’s a good thing Bertrand caught you before you hit the ground,” Beatrice pointed out. “It’s nothing but concrete.”
“Why don’t you sit here and rest?” Bertrand suggested. “I’m sure you just got dizzy from sitting for so long. I’ll run to the cafeteria and get you a bottle of water. I won’t be but a minute.”
Esmé was about to ask Bertrand if he’d like any company when he dashed off and disappeared around a corner. Sighing, she turned back to Kit and said, “Lemony got busted and was asked by Ms. Marshall to stay after class.”
“You should have heard him,” Beatrice said. “He was trying to sell us out, but thankfully Ms. Marshall saw right through him.”
“Other than Bertrand and Lemony,” Esmé added, “guess who else is in our class?” Before Kit could guess, Esmé said, “Jerome Squalor!”
Beatrice grinned furtively. “Say his name with a little more enthusiasm, why don’t you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think it means?” asked Beatrice.
“Beatrice Taylor,” Esmé said, “if you’re implying what I think you are then—”
“Then what? You’ll paint my toenails that dreadful parsley color tonight while I’m asleep?”
Post by melon head. on Apr 29, 2008 4:44:37 GMT -5
Kit groaned and rolled on to her side. Her vision was still blurry, but she could make out the figure of Beatrice on her right, and Esme on her left.
'Hey,' she said groggily.
Bertrand returned, carrying a bottle of water. Beatrice thanked him wearily, and took a deep sip of the water. Beatrice and Esme helped her stand, and by the time her feet were firmly on the ground, Kit felt better than ever.
'I'm fine,' she assured the paranoid group of people surrounding her. Lemony approached her, looking weary.
'What happened?' he asked.
'I fainted and Bertrand caught me,' Kit said as though it was of naught importance. 'Now, how on Earth is it that you got in trouble for talking on your first day back?'
'I didn't say a word,' Lemony said indignantly. 'I was just sticking up for this lot.'
Kit turned back to Beatrice and Esme, her eyebrows so high that her fringe masked them. ' That's not what these two lovely ladies told me.'
'Really?' Lemony asked. 'Well, that's kind of them, considering I've got detention for the week.'
As Lemony stalked off, Kit felt the chemistry between him and Beatrice begin to fade. She turned back to Esme and Beatrice and scowled.
'What happened?' Dewey asked Lemony, who had happened to walk past the Business/Economics classroom.
'Kit fainted and Bertrand caught her,' Lemony said as though it was of naught importance.
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Apr 29, 2008 18:18:34 GMT -5
“Are you sure you’re alright, Kit?” Bertrand asked. “Maybe you should go back to your dorm and lay down for a while. I’d be happy to stop by later on and give your assignments.”
Esmé, although concerned for her friend, could not help but frown at all of the attention Kit was receiving from Bertrand. Why couldn’t it have been Esmé who had fainted and fallen into his arms? It just wasn’t fair! Fate seemed to be completely against her for reasons she just could not figure out.
Beatrice was the first to notice the way Esmé seemed to be scowling. “Esmé,” Beatrice asked, “is something wrong?”
Esmé was quick to respond with a vigorous shake of the head. “No,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“Well, if you’re fine, and Kit’s fine, then we should probably get to class.”
“I have gym,” Esmé said. “What about you two girls?”
“Earth science,” Beatrice replied.
Kit nodded in agreement.
“I have gym next period as well,” Bertrand told Esmé. “I’ll walk over with you.”
Great, Esmé thought dejectedly, just my luck. My first class with Bertrand Baudelaire, and we won’t even be in the same room together.
“Have fun, you two,” Beatrice said. “We’ll catch up with you later.”
“Yeah,” Esmé said as she and Bertrand started off. “See ya.”
After Esmé and Bertrand had left, Beatrice turned to Kit. “I’m sorry about Lemony,” Beatrice said. “I suppose that I am partly to blame.”
Post by melon head. on Apr 30, 2008 5:04:52 GMT -5
Kit shrugged. 'It's not that,' she said. 'I just... thought...'
Beatrice stared at Kit, silently urging her to continue.
'No, nothing. Forget it.'
The walked to Earth Science, where, while waiting for the previous class to exit the room, Kit checked her time table. She had an excellent ten-day schedule- Earth Science and Business/Economics were the only two subjects she had no interest in. There was Photography, Journalism, Advanced Algebra, French Revolution, and most importantly, Graphic Design using the new Advanced Computers.
'Good haul this year, eh?' she asked. Beatrice didn't answer. She knew that she was vaguely disappointed that Kit had dropped Drama, but if Kit was honest with herself, it wasn't something that interested her.
'Look, it's not that I don't like Drama, it's just that- well, if you, Esme and myself were all in the same class, the teacher would recoginse me for the brilliant actress I am, and suddenly, she'd only have eyes for me. You tow would never get a shot.'
Beatrice laughed, and Kit felt a bit better.
'Not you again,' came the voice of Dewey, and Kit grinned.
'Oh, good Lord, I seem to be in everything with you!' she exclaimed.
The previous class scrambled out of the room, and Kit found a desk at the front for she and Beatrice to place themselves at.
Lemony entered the gym, looking completely ridiculous in the clothing that completely contrasted greatly with her personality. He found a severely snorting Bertrand (Who looked quite handsome in his sportswear) laughing uncontrollably.
'Shut up,' he hissed. Across the room, he saw Esme Salinger dart her eyes down to the floor as he looked at her. An odd thought struck him. What if Esme liked him? He had no interest in her, of course, considering she had her heart on the line for Bertrand. Unfortunately for her, Bertrand would never like her back, considering he was hands-down in love with Kit.
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Apr 30, 2008 21:59:07 GMT -5
Esmé could sense the eyes of Lemony sticking to her like glue from across the gymnasium. God, why was he looking at her? Did he like her? Good lord, she hoped not…
“Hi, Esmé! It is Esmé, isn’t it?”
Esmé cringed at the sound of the familiar (and irritating) voice, and turned to see Geraldine Julienne standing before her in an identical gym uniform. Poor Esmé felt self-conscious just looking at Geraldine, considering Esmé had not been able to afford a new uniform since eighth grade, and she had shot up nearly five inches since then. She did her best to tug her shorts down as Geraldine approached.
“That was rather rude the way you just tossed my microphone aside like that this morning,” she said. “You’re lucky you didn’t break it.”
“Well, it was rather rude of you the way you just shoved it in my friend’s face,” Esmé replied.
“I was only doing what the reporters on television do.”
Esmé sighed. “Do you always do what you see the people on television doing?”
“Only if it’s beneficial to me,” Geraldine said.
“Get lost,” Esmé said.
Esmé watched Geraldine walk over to another area of the girls’ side of the gymnasium and sit down. Esmé figured that if Geraldine had not been such an in-your-face type, then Esmé could have actually liked her. But, by the way things looked, she would never know.
Beatrice and Kit watched their classmates shuffle into the room and scramble in an attempt to find suitable seats. The girls both recognized one of the other students as Jerome, and Beatrice raised a welcoming hand.
“Jerome,” she called, “over here!”
Jerome looked up, and a big smile spread across his face as his eyes locked with Beatrice’s.
“Hi,” he said, taking a seat next to Beatrice. “It’s great to see some familiar faces in this class.”
“I’ll say. So far the only two faces I recognize are yours and Kit’s.”
“Well, that’s better than none at all.”
At that moment, the Earth Science teacher arrived and introduced herself as Ms. Costanzo. She was an attractive woman, though she appeared to have put on her entire makeup collection and probably used about ten bottles of hairspray before coming to class.
“How much would you be willing to bet she sets off the smoke alarm before class is over?” Jerome whispered to Beatrice.
[My high school science teacher was named Ms. Costanzo, and she was always doing her makeup during class. Once she used an eyelash curler and my friend and I just stared at each other. I don’t think we learned a single thing in that class. ;D]
Lemony just stared. Why had Esme treated Geraldine so terribly? She wasn't that bad... well, she was, but Lemony needed more and more reasons to dislike Esme. What if he went out with Geraldine? He would surely kill himself after half an hour in her presence, but none the less, it would please Kit. Lemony couldn't help but be envious of Jacques, who, despite having never dated a girl in his life, was getting off easy with Kit. Kit seemed to think that just because Lemony was the big brother, it meant he needed to get married and have at least one niece for Kit (Who had a fixation with getting at least on niece in her lifetime).
Mr. Risatto, the seemingly charming but underneath abhorrent gym teacher, approached his class wearing a large and false smile. 'Hey, kiddies,' he said, being his usual patronising self. 'Today, we're trying a bit of athletics. Sounds like fun, eh?'
The class groaned.
'I thought so,' Mr. Risatto said, clapping his hands. 'Now, may we have a volunteer...' his hand floated over to Bertrand, who was nothing short of alienated due to his amazing gymnastic skills. But to the surprise of everyone in the gym, Mr. Risatto ignored Bertrand completely. 'Snicket?' he asked, pointing to Lemony.
Lemony feebly stood in front of the class, and demonstrated how to high jump. It was simple, and only a few odd people paid the smallest of attention. Yet, Lemony felt the stare of a student piercing his neck, and looked to see Esme Salinger again.
'What is it with her?' he wondered to himself, falling backwards on to the mat.
Kit chuckled at Jerome's remark, and saw Jacques enter the classroom, wearing a flustered expression. He sat down next to Jerome, but surprisingly, Jerome turned to Beatrice, his back to Jacques.
'Kit?' Dewey asked. 'What's this about a fainting incident?'
'I was dizzy after stupid Business/Economics,' Kit said.
'That teacher sure did know how to put people to sleep,' Dewey agreed. 'I didn't think it'd happen so drastically, however.' He peered over at Kit's open text book to avoid eye contact with his girlfriend. 'Were you or were you not caught by Bertrand Baudelaire?'
'I was,' Kit muttered. 'Why? Do you care?'
'Not in the slightest,' Dewey lied, looking towards his own textbook.
'So, Jerome, do you like drama?'
Jerome looked at his desk. Jacques tried again.
'I'm not a huge fan. but my sister's gotten me into Shakespeare, so this semester's play sounds like it'll be great fun, eh?'
Jerome did not reply, but stared even more pointedly at his desk. Jacques was too annoyed to continue attempting to communicate with Jerome, but his anger got the best of him.
'Right! Why won't you talk to me?!'
[She sounds funny. I named the gym teacher after my own current Head of Sports, who I liked until he cut me from Netball.]
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on May 1, 2008 20:37:35 GMT -5
Jerome nearly toppled out of his seat and onto the floor, but managed to contain his balance. “P— pardon me?” he asked innocently.
“Jacques!” Beatrice hissed. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you make an effort to be a little nicer?”
Ms. Costanzo was too busy blindly copying notes out of a textbook and onto the blackboard to notice the conversation going on behind her back.
Jerome turned to Jacques. “I apologize for whatever it was that I may have done to offend you,” Jerome said politely. “But I honestly don’t have a clue as to what it could possibly be.”
“Just copy down these notes and then I’ll give you an open-book quiz,” Ms. Costanzo said, before sitting down at her desk and taking out an eyelash curler from her purse.
Beatrice turned to Jerome. “Well, it looks like this class is certainly going to be a breeze,” she said.
Esmé was sitting alone in a secluded area of the gymnasium, watching a group of girls engage in an animated conversation that she couldn’t hear. She didn’t normally feel lonely or singled out because in most of her classes she was with either Beatrice or Kit or both. Unfortunately for Esmé, gym was not one of those classes and so she was forced to make the best of being alone.
One of the girls glanced over her shoulder at Esmé, causing her to avert her eyes to the slick, newly polished floor. The last thing she needed was to accidentally tick off a group of girls who were obviously part of the “in crowd” without having either of her two best friends to come to her defense.
Esmé had just turned back to Lemony when the girls’ gym teacher entered the gymnasium. Her name was Miss Tench, and she had been working as the female students’ gym teacher ever since Esmé could remember. Miss Tench also had a tendency to blow her whistle every time she suspected that someone was not paying attention, which was constantly. Esmé was actually surprised that neither she nor any of her friends had gone deaf within the seven years they had been attending Prufrock Prep.
This was the very reason why she was not surprised when Miss Tench walked to the front of the volley ball net— which was the only thing separating the male students from the female students —and blew her whistle.
“Good morning, girls,” she announced in a very loud voice. “I thought we could kick off the year”— here she chuckled at her own lame joke —“with a game of volleyball.”
Everyone groaned, Esmé loudest of all. She hated volleyball. Aside from being picked last for teams, she always seemed to be getting pelted with the volleyball. Last year the ball had hit her in the head with enough force to knock her to the ground. She had been more embarrassed than hurt, and Miss Tench had had the nerve to blame her for not paying attention.
Esmé supposed that Mr. Risatto must be planning to take the boys outside to run around the track or work with the athletic equipment, giving the girls the entire gymnasium to occupy.
“Would anyone like to volunteer to be a team captain?” Miss Tench asked.
Esmé saw Rebecca Larsen’s hand shoot up. Esmé had known Rebecca since grade school—she and her best friend, Abigail Jones, had always gone out of their way to torture Esmé. They usually got away with it, too, just because Rebecca’s parents had always donated largely to the school. Esmé hated the idea that such a miserable person was able to get away with murder just because of who their parents happened to be.
“Larson, get up here,” Miss Tench said.
With a flick of her golden-blonde hair, Rebecca jogged up to the front of the volleyball net.
“Do I see any other volunteers?” Miss Tench asked.
The hand of Geraldine Julienne was the next to go up, and Miss Tench pointed to her.
“Get up here, Julienne.”
As Esmé watched the annoying girl jog across the gymnasium to the other side of the volleyball net, she seriously didn’t know which was worse: being on the team of someone who was just plain cruel or just plain annoying.
Esmé glanced briefly up at the clock. It was certainly going to be a long forty-five minutes.
Post by melon head. on May 1, 2008 21:04:25 GMT -5
'Sorry,' Jacques said to Jerome. 'I thought you were ignoring me. Because of my...' He sighed. 'My eyebrow.'
Kit felt herself sink deeper into her seat. Jacques couldn't keep the embarrassment out of his voice, a clear sign that he and Jerome would not become friends any time soon. Whenever Jacques was embarrassed in front of someone he barely knew, he had a tendency to wander away and never speak to the stranger again.
'Tired,' Kit moaned, and Beatrice gave her a sympathetic look. Kit felt twice as dizzy as she had the previous lesson, and stood up.
'I'm going to the nurse,' she told Beatrice and Dewey. 'Don't worry about Ms. Costanzo. She's got too much eye-shadow on to be able to see me leave.'
Kit left the classroom, and head for the nurse's office, the usual first-day tension gripping her. She always felt nervous about leaving the classroom, and she always felt nervous about the first day back. And the combination of the two merely added to Kit's jittery stomach pains.
'Snicket?' The nurse asked, a plump woman named Kathy. 'I haven't seen you since the fourth grade when you faked the plague! I thought you were the girl that never gets sick.'
'You have a very prominent memory, remembering my name like that,' Kit said, rubbing her forehead.
'I saw you walking over and checked the year book,' Kathy confessed without hesitation. 'Now, what's the problem, my love?'
'I'm dizzy and I feel ill,' Kit said, falling into the bed.
'I'll take your temperature,' the nurse said, grabbing a thermometer from the bench and placing it in Kit's parted lips. 'Just hang in there, love, and we'll find out what's bothering you.'
Kit nodded, and the door flew open. In burst Geraldine Julienne, clutching a bleary girl who Kit recognised as Rebecca Larsen, the girl who had always made life hell for Esme.
'What happened?' Kathy asked, lying Rebecca down on the bed opposite Kit's.
'It was Esme Salinger, Miss,' Geraldine said, and Kit jumped. 'Oh, hi, Kit. Yeah, she threw a volleyball at Rebecca for some reason. She's in a heap of trouble.'
'Dear me, the things girls do,' Kathy tutted, and went to fetch Rebecca an ice pack.
'This is so juicy!' Geraldine squealed. '"Underprivileged Girl Looses It!'" Wait till the readers of the Prufrock Preparatory Weekly read that!'
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on May 2, 2008 22:02:40 GMT -5
Esmé was sitting on the top row of the bleachers. From there she was watching Abigail Jones, as well as a few of the other girls, giving her spiteful looks as they whispered amongst themselves. As far as Esmé was concerned, Rebecca had gotten exactly what she deserved when she had made the remark about Esmé’s parents having conceived her out of wedlock. It wasn’t that would really matter or anything, but the way Rebecca had said it made it sound as if it was a crime. Esmé had had no other choice but to fight back.
Of course, Miss Tench had not seen it this way, and so had banished Esmé to the bleachers for the rest of the period and sent Rebecca to the nurse’s office.
Esmé had never cared much for gym before, but now she was just ready to quit altogether. Who needed it when there were girls like Rebecca Larson who got away with murder just because they happened to have parents who donated large sums of money to the school?
“Hey, you,” Abigail called up to Esmé just then. She ignored Abigail. “Underprivileged Girl. Do all underprivileged students act as violently as you do?”
“Shut up, Abigail,” Esmé shot back.
Miss Tench blew her whistle. “Salinger!” she snapped. “I said no talking!”
Esmé sighed, and Miss Tench walked away. Abigail and her friends saw the ball and jogged over to try and hit it. The ball bounced off Abigail’s head. This made Esmé feel a little better.
Jerome was the first to finish his open-book quiz and looked over at Beatrice. “Is your friend alright?” he asked.
Beatrice put down her pen and nodded at Jerome. “I hope so,” she said. “I have lunch after this, so I thought I’d stop by the nurse’s office and see how Kit’s doing.”
“I’ll go with you if you like. I have study hall, but I’m sure I can afford to be a little late.”
“Don’t do that. It’s your first day as a student here.”
“Exactly,” Jerome said. “On the first day, the teachers look the other way.”
“Still, you want to make a good impression,” Beatrice pointed out. “Don’t you?”
Jerome nodded. “Yes. I just thought—”
“It’s fine.” Beatrice turned to Jacques. “What about you, Jacques? What’s your next class?”
'Wouldn't have a clue,' Jacques said, not looking at Jerome. 'I've already lost my timetable.'
Beatrice shook her head, grinning. Jacques smiled and returned to his work.
'Snicket!' Ms. Costanzo boomed, looking up suddenly from her hands, on which she was applying fake tan. 'Where's Kit?'
'Nurse's office,' Jacques said loudly. 'She's sick.'
'Sick? She doesn't get sick!'
'She does!' Jacques said in frustration. 'Why does everyone make that assumption? She gets awfully sick and we have to look after her. It's exhausting.'
'I didn't ask for your life story,' Ms. Costanzo said, rolling her made-up eyes. 'I just was stating her reputation. Can you give her the homework I set?'
The homework was most certainly Jacques's cup of tea. It to research an environmentalist from any period of time, and although the environment had never been to great interest of Jacques, researching was what he did best.
Lemony stared, aghast, at Esme. Now he had an excuse to not like her. But he could understand her moral.Who he disliked more than ever now were those awful girls who had called her "Underprivileged" and "Violent" and such nonsense. Esme had come to stay a few summers back, due to her relationship with Kit, and she had been nothing short of pleasant and good company.
'You girls are ferocious,' Lemony said in disgust. 'What entertainment do you get out of being such- well, there's no way of putting it other than butchers.'
Abigail cringed, knowing that Rebecca had always had a thing for Lemony. 'I told you needn't have liked him, he turned out to just be an bear,' she hissed as Lemony walked away.
Lemony had one concern about his act. What if Esme thought her liked her because he had stuck up for her?
Kit had long left the nurse's office, despite her temperature of 46 degrees. She was standing by the window of the Earth Science classroom, tapping quietly against the glass. Finally, Beatrice snuck over.
'Guess what Esme did?' Kit asked as soon as Beatrice's ear was pressed to the glass.
[Auto correct did it again, with Lemony confronting the gals. Oh well.]
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on May 3, 2008 20:11:50 GMT -5
Beatrice stood with her ear pressed against the glass and listened to Kit give her version of what she had heard in the nurse’s office concerning Esmé and Rebecca.
“Esmé did what?” Beatrice whispered. “Are you serious?”
“Miss Taylor,” came the voice of Ms. Costanzo from across the room. “Is there a reason why the side of your face is pressed up against the window like that?”
Beatrice straightened up and turned to her teacher. “N— no ma’am. I just— I came over here to sharpen my pencil.”
“And did you sharpen it?”
“Yes,” Beatrice replied.
“Then you may return your seat,” Ms. Costanzo said. Beatrice was just about to when the teacher added, “And tell Miss Snicket to come inside.”
Beatrice gave Kit the message and then returned to her seat.
“What happened?” Jerome asked.
“You’re never going to believe what Esmé just did,” Beatrice said.
“Who was that at the window?”
“Kit. Apparently, while she was in the nurse’s office, Rebecca Larson walked in complaining of a concussion. Geraldine Julienne was with her and claimed that it was all Esmé’s doing.”
“’Esmé’?” Jerome repeated. “You mean that perfectly charming young lady I met this morning in the dorm?”
“The very same.”
“How did Rebecca get a concussion?”
“Esmé hit her with a volley ball.”
“Oh, my,” Jerome said.
“I’m sure she had a perfectly logical reason,” Beatrice said. “Rebecca Larson has been going out of her way to make life at this school hell for Esmé since the third grade. As far as I’m concerned, Rebecca got exactly what she deserved.”
It was at that moment when Kit returned and took her seat between her brother and Beatrice.
Gym class was just about over, and Miss Tench had dismissed everyone early to give them time to change before the bell rang. As the students were shuffling out of the gymnasium, Esmé spotted Lemony. She ran and caught him just before he could enter the boys’ locker room.
“I saw the way you handled Rebecca and Abigail before,” Esmé said. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
Lemony gulped. 'Your welcome,' he said. 'They were being so mean to you.'
He quickly sped away before he could make himself seem any more attracted to Esme. In the changing rooms, he stood behind Bertrand to get to a shower, despite the fact that he had barely moved aside from falling backwards into a mat.
'So,' Lemony said into Bertrand's ear, 'You caught Kit when she fainted. That must've felt pretty good. Surely now she'll leave Dewey and run into your open arms, which are always ready to catch her.' Lemony laughed, and Bertrand elbowed him in his ribcage. 'You've got to be the world's best best friend,' Lemony continued, knowing Bertrand would be annoyed but not being able to stop. 'Hey, Dewey, you're the best, and I care about you, but, can I have your girlfriend?'
'Kit!' Jacques said in surprise. 'Look at you! You're terribly red! What did the nurse say?'
'I dunno, I have a fever or something.'
Jacques raised his eyebrow. 'Did Kathy take your temperature?'
'First-name terms?' Kit muttered, grinning. 'I see things are going pretty well between the two of you.'
'Don't change the subject,' Jacques said, rolling his eyes under his single eyebrow. 'Are you burning up?'
'I think I'm 46, but what does it matt-'
'46 DEGREES? My God, Kit, you're ill!'
Kit turned to Beatrice in an attempt to ignore her brother, but Jacques had alerted Ms. Costanzo.
'She's 46 degrees! That's very hot,' he added, knowing that Ms. Costanzo was most certainly not a science teacher.
'Get out of here, Snicket. I don't want to be sued by your parents for keeping you in my class when you're melting. Here's some work I was going to set for the class.'
Kit waved a sad goodbye to Beatrice and Jerome, scowled at Jacques, and went back to her dorm. She then lay down on her bed, which was underneath Esme's. Beatrice's was across from her. Dizziness began to engulf her, slowly but surely. Voices making strings of endless words were running through her head... someone was saying her name, over and over... the walls were closing in... she had a thousand fingers...
Beatrice entered the room, whether in reality or merely in Kit's confusing and perplexing world. Either way, Kit lept from her bed, sobbing, and hugged Beatrice, who seemed to be real.
'I'm scared,' Kit cried, burying her head into Beatrice's shoulder.
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on May 4, 2008 10:30:49 GMT -5
“Of what?” she asked, and hugged Kit back. “Did you have a nightmare?”
As Kit continued to sob in Beatrice’s arms, the door flew open and Esmé came running in. “I heard from that witch Rebecca Larson that Kit was in the nurse’s office,” Esmé said. “What happened?”
“Kit has a fever,” Beatrice explained. “Jacques, Jerome and I were all sitting in Earth Science when Kit announced she wasn’t feeling well.”
Esmé knew from the moment the words fell from Beatrice’s lips how serious this was. “That’s sure something coming from Little Miss Perfect Attendance.”
“Well, we also heard what you did to Rebecca Larson.”
“That figures,” Esmé said. “Everyone in the girls’ locker room was talking about it, and by now the whole school probably knows what I did.”
“This isn’t something to take lightly, Esmé,” Beatrice told her firmly. “Did you ever stop to think you could be expelled?”
“I’m not going to be expelled, Beatrice. I didn’t even get sent to the principal’s office.”
“Well, what did happen?”
“Nothing,” Esmé said. “I was just told by Miss Tench to sit up on the bleachers for the rest of the period. It’s no big deal.”
“I certainly hope your parents will be able to vouch for that,” Beatrice said, and turned back to Kit, who was still sobbing in her friend’s arms. “Kit, what is the matter?”
It was then that the dorm room door swung open again, and this time Dewey came rushing in. He looked as though he had run all the way from quite a distance, for his face was very flushed and he was breathing heavily.
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on May 5, 2008 21:35:49 GMT -5
Bertrand nodded and threw his own gym uniform into his duffle bag. Heaving it over his shoulder, he waited for Lemony to finish dressing and the two of them hurried out of the locker room.
Esmé was halfway to the administrative building when she ran into Lemony and Bertrand. “Where are you two headed?” she asked.
“Your dorm,” Bertrand replied as he and Lemony passed by Esmé.
“Yeah, well, I’m on my way to the principal’s office, in case you haven’t heard.”
Bertrand glanced over his shoulder at Esmé. “We heard. Good luck with that.”
“Don’t you want to know the reason why I’m going?” Esmé asked. She would take any excuse to talk with Bertrand, even if doing so would make them both late to wherever it was they were headed.
“We already know why,” Bertrand said. “You nearly knocked out Rebecca Larson with a volley ball.”
“Don’t you want to know the reason I did that?”
Bertrand lifted his hand, this time without turning around to look at Esmé. “Later. We’ve gotta go.”
Esmé heaved an irritated sigh and flounced off. It just wasn’t fair that Kit had boys literally swooning over her, plus a boyfriend, while Esmé had no one.
Some sophomore year this was turning out to be.
Beatrice was at her wit’s end as to what to do about Kit, who just could not seem to stop crying. Beatrice had never seen her best friend behave this way, and it was starting to scare her. “I wish you’d tell me what it is that’s wrong,” she said. “Does this have anything to do with you fainting and Bertrand catching you? Is that it, Kit?”
"bear": t craig: firenze italia
Sept 21, 2021 7:39:40 GMT -5
Violent Bun Fortuna: As a fan of the 101 Dalmations books as well as the original films (animated and live action) I really dislike Cruella, it's just totally out of keeping with that series & that character. And I love so many Disney films so that's not the problem
Sept 21, 2021 8:10:48 GMT -5
urbanletteropener: "bear" — you make a fair point. At this point it honestly wouldn't surprise me if Disney as a company was physically incapable of inventing new intellectual property.
Sept 21, 2021 8:18:24 GMT -5
GlitteryMisery: As a fan of the Chronicles of Prydain who was disappointed by Disney's previous attempt at adapting them, I'm still waiting for news on the new supposedly truer-to-the-text version they're planning.
Sept 21, 2021 8:30:57 GMT -5
GlitteryMisery: Disney isn't my first choice of company to film the books, but it's better than nothing.
Sept 21, 2021 8:31:17 GMT -5
spike: florence, v nice
Sept 21, 2021 14:59:11 GMT -5
spike: I've been in bari in 2015 or so, would like to visit other places in italy sometime
Sept 21, 2021 15:01:08 GMT -5
jackson: Oh oops I confused the author of the thread.
Sept 22, 2021 2:48:09 GMT -5
jackson: Bear I expect a pictures thread.
Sept 22, 2021 2:48:18 GMT -5
"bear": i don't take pictures, it's the devil's work
Sept 22, 2021 7:39:46 GMT -5