Post by melon head. on Jul 13, 2008 20:55:27 GMT -5
Beatrice actually shrieked when she saw Kit's limp body under the sheets, especially considering they were in the day's double digits. It was eleven 'o' clock, the usual time of awakening for Beatrice, but not for Kit. By this time of the morning she would have already helped renovate the kindergarten, volunteer in the cafeteria and re-paint the gym, before heading off to the V.F.D. Training School. And yet, here she lay, her eyes puffy and shut, and her mouth askew.
Meanwhile, Bertrand was deciding what to wear, being more or less a late riser himself. Dewey was returning from breakfast.
"Hello," he muttered awkwardly to his newly reaccepted friend. It had taken much conviction from Jacques Snicket, but finally, Bertrand had recovered from his love-struck attire towards Dewey's girlfriend.
"Bert?" Dewey asked.
Bertrand looked over at Dewey.
"You know, you're okay."
Bertrand raised an eyebrow, removing a shirt from his top draw.
"I mean," Dewey continued, "you're a good guy. You're my best friend. We shouldn't fight over a girl... we can't let something like that come between us."
Dewey wasn't sure what happened, but the next thing he knew, the pair were sharing a heartfelt hug.
"Boys, please," Lemony said, appearing in the doorway. "Get a room that I don't share with you, at least."
Bertrand left for the cafeteria once dressed, and Lemony went to pay Beatrice a visit. He found her, too, heading for her breakfast. He seized her and planted a kiss on her lips. "'Morning," he said.
Beatrice put her head into his shoulder. Lemony kissed her head. “Did you sleep alright?” he asked. This small talk didn’t impress him, but he supposed that nothing majorly eventful would have happened since last time the couple had spoken. This was, until, a stricken Jacques grabbed Lemony by the shoulder.
"What's the matter with you?" Lemony asked, staring into his brother's blank eyes.
"I- oh God," Jacques murmured. "I didn't sleep..."
"Why ever not?" Lemony asked. "What happened?"
"Gera... asked.... God damn it!"
"What happened?" Lemony demanded. "Is it Mum? No, you wouldn't care if it was Mum... is it Dad? Geeze, did someone get hurt?"
Jacques shook his head numbly. "Gera... Gerald..."
"Geraldine?" Lemony asked sharply. "Is she hurt?" He wouldn't have cared.
"I... I asked her... to go... I asked... out..."
Lemony's jaw dropped. "You asked out Geraldine?"
Jacques nodded slowly, wearing a petrified expression. Lemony's eyes shut in sorrow.
"The worst has come," he announced. "We preyed that it would never happened... but it did."
He put his arm around his brother, and they walked mournfully. "I wish it was Mum," Jacques said.
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Jul 15, 2008 8:37:08 GMT -5
“What about Geraldine?” Beatrice asked as the group headed across the field. “Did she accept?”
Jacques, still horrorstruck, nodded.
“Well, maybe she’ll change her mind.”
Jacques gave Beatrice a look as if what she had said had to be the most ridiculous thing in the world, while Lemony shook his head doubtfully.
“What made you ask her out in the first place?” Beatrice said right before an excited shriek broke through the air.
Startled, Beatrice and the others turned just in time to see Esmé running toward them, shoes clutched in her hands.
“Esmé!” exclaimed Beatrice. “You’re back!”
“Of course I’m back,” Esmé said, pausing to slip her feet back into her shoes. “What did you think? That I would leave and never return?”
“Not exactly,” Beatrice admitted. “But you were gone an awfully long time.”
“Well, Jerome’s little brother was in the hospital. I couldn’t very well have left him there all alone, could I?”
“So, how was your date? I want details!”
Esmé grinned. “Later,” she said in a low voice, glancing over at the two boys. “Once we’re alone.” She paused. “Hey, where’s Kit?”
“She’s still asleep,” Beatrice informed her friend.
Esmé’s eyes widened. “Little Miss Punctuality? Sleeping late on a Sunday morning? Quickly, and let’s notify the press! This is big news!”
“Oh, Esmé, calm down. Kit only just got back from the hospital and she’s exhausted.”
Nodding in agreement, Esmé turned her attention on Jacques. “What’s with you?” she asked.
“Don’t ask,” Beatrice said before Jacques could make up an excuse not to answer Esmé’s question. “Listen, the boys and I were just on our way to get some breakfast. Would you care to join us?”
“Thanks, but I already ate.”
“The cafeteria is sure to have something better than what they served you at the one in the hospital.”
“I didn’t eat breakfast at the hospital,” Esmé explained. “Jerome took me to a café.”
Beatrice squealed in delight, while Esmé stood by and rolled her eyes. “So?” Beatrice asked. “Did he whisper sweet nothings in your ear over pancakes?”
“Honestly, Beatrice. Jerome and I have only had one date together. And he had pancakes. I had a piece of toast.”
Jacques muttered something under his breath about how that wasn’t a surprise, and Esmé shot him a look of caution. He lowered his eyes to the ground.
“Well, if you’re not going to join us,” Beatrice said, “then I guess we’ll be heading over to the cafeteria now.”
“Okay,” Esmé said. “I think I’ll go back to the dorm and crawl into bed. I’ll see you later.”
Beatrice slipped her fingers around Lemony’s and then headed off, with Jacques trailing slowly behind them. Esmé watched the figures as they faded into the distance before turning in the direction of the dormitory.
Reason for Editing: Had to fix a typo. Thanks, Elle.
Post by melon head. on Jul 16, 2008 2:23:41 GMT -5
Esme returned to her room, and saw a waking Kit. She smiled affectionately and greeted her friend.
"Hello," Kit said, returning the greeting. "How was your date with the city's most eligible bachelor?"
Esme began to giggle, and seemed too content to stop. She finally managed to hiccup that Kit and Beatrice would learn all the details over a bowl of popcorn and a girl's night in. She seemed so happy, Kit decided not to remind her that her her days at Prufrock Prep were disappearing fast. She instead changed out of her sweats and into a pair of leg-hugging jeans and a clean white blouse. She checked herself in the mirror, brushed herself down and left to see Dewey.
"Hey," she said softly when she found him, slipping her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his mouth.
"'Morning," Dewey said happily. He sighed, his smile fading. "I can't believe that you're leaving so soon."
"Nor can I," Kit said miserably. "I'll be gone by the time Much Ado About Nothing begins."
Dewey beamed in spite of himself. "I hope wherever you go, you can be as passionate as you are here."
"Me too," Kit said.
Dewey stared into Kit's eyes, and nearly melted. Suddenly, he felt is Adam's apple rise in his throat, and an idea hit him. He grinned, and let go of Kit. "I'll be back!"
Dewey rushed up to the telephone, and slammed it against his ear. He punched in the numbers he had just retrieved from his address book, and waited.
"Hello?" came the familiar voice of Dewey's great uncle Simon.
"Si!" Dewey cried. "It's Dewey."
"Hey, Sport," Simon said merrily. "What can I do you for, kiddo?"
Dewey breathed in his request, not daring to let his hopes go too high. He finished, and waited.
"Are you serious?"
Dewey felt his spirit simmer. "There's nothing you can try?"
"I'll see what I can do. Can I come in tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's great," Dewey said, his mind on Kit.
Jacques, after noticing that Esme had returned, figured that Jerome must have as well. He wandered to the gates, where he saw an ever-so-slightly heavy man, dressed in a sharp suit, stood by the gates, seemingly unsure of where he needed to be.
"Jerome!" Jacques called, breaking into a sprint and running across to Jerome. Jerome smiled, looking giddy and love-struck.
"Jerome," Jacques panted, reaching the young man. "Look, I... I need to ask you something. Answer honestly... I..." He paused to breathe deeply. "I know that you don't have a roomie, and nor do I... I don't really have any close friends here, and I'd really like to get to know you better..." He was sounding pathetic. He just needed to get to the point. "I was wondering if you... wanted to share a room with me?"
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Jul 16, 2008 13:04:24 GMT -5
“You’re Jacques Snicket, right?” Jerome said, hoping he didn’t sound too foolish. “Lemony’s brother?”
“I thought so.” Smiling, Jerome leaned against the gates. “I’ve been rooming with my little brother and two other kids since my arrival. Now that Andrew’s going to be spending a week in the hospital, there’s no reason for me to stay. It’ll be nice to share a room with someone closer to my own age.”
“Jacques seemed very upset about Geraldine Julienne,” Beatrice commented as she spread some cream cheese on her bagel. “I wonder what would cause him to do something so foolish?”
Lemony took a sip of his orange juice and set it down before shrugging.
“Anyway, I’m glad that Esmé’s date with Jerome went over so well. They really do make a lovely couple, don’t you think?”
Lemony had never liked Esmé much, but he did like Jerome, and so Lemony nodded.
“The days are ticking by like clockwork,” Beatrice went on. “Soon Kit will be changing schools and…” Just speaking the truth caused tears to form in Beatrice’s eyes, and she shook her head as if that would make the tears stop.
Lemony reached across the table and laid his hand on Beatrice’s. She smiled as best she could, but her effort was strained and instead she ended up bursting into tears. Aside from the workers, Lemony and Beatrice were the only ones in the cafeteria, and so the only attention they attracted was that of each other.
Esmé was asleep under the covers and Kit was down the hall taking a bath when there was a knock at their dorm.
Groaning, Esmé dragged herself out of bed and went to answer the door. She was dressed relatively appropriately in a tank-top and pajama pants. Hoping it was Jerome, she yanked open the door.
“Je— oh. It’s you, Bertrand,” Esmé said, rather disappointed.
“You don’t sound very happy to see me,” Bertrand told her.
“Well, I was expecting someone else.”
Esmé raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s really any of your business,” she said.
“No, you’re right,” agreed Bertrand. “It’s not. Anyway, I didn’t come here to see you. I came here to see Kit. Where is she?”
“She’s down the hall taking a bath. What is it you need to see her about?”
Post by melon head. on Jul 18, 2008 1:53:31 GMT -5
Oh, it does. That's weird.
Kit left the bathroom in her bathrobe, sewn from silk, courtesy of of her mother. It was the only birthday present her mother had ever bought her. All the rest had been from her father, with her mother's name in his handwriting at the bottom of the card. Kit knew that she was her mother's least favourite, and this was what made the bathrobe so special.
She walked through the boy's hallway, where Bertrand was walking. She approached him cautiously, well aware that she was very close to naked at Bertrand had been in love with her for several years. "Hello," she said.
Bertrand smiled at her, and explained what he had to Esme.
"Really?" Kit asked. "Oh, that's wonderful!" She made a mental note to thank Jacques, wherever he was, when she got the chance.
She changed back into her clothes and went to find Dewey. He was talking on the phone near the cafeteria. Kit saw Lemony and Beatrice inside. talking over minestrone soup. She decided to let them be, so as not to break any romance that may have been occurring.
She leant against the booth until Dewey emerged, looking worried and hopeful.
"Hello!" he cried, jumping on the spot. Kit laughed.
"You done?" she asked sceptically.
"You frightened me, that's all," Dewey remarked, walking into the cafeteria and retrieving a bagel from the chilled food counter. Kit smiled at took a steaming miniature pizza from the hot food counter.
"Who were you talking to?' she asked.
"My mum," Dewey invented quickly. "On a separate matter... my uncle Simon is coming down tomorrow after school. Just passing through. Wanna grab a coffee with us?"
"Uncle Simon the therapist?" Kit confirmed.
"The best in Kentucky," Dewey said, repeating his Uncle's slogan. He wondered how many therapists there were in Kentucky.
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Jul 19, 2008 14:03:20 GMT -5
Between her and Lemony, Beatrice was the last to finish up her soup. She pushed her tray toward the center of the table and smiled at him.
“Normally I’d prefer it if people didn’t watch me while I ate,” she said. “But when you do it, it’s rather cute.”
Beatrice was correct in her assumption. From the moment she and Lemony had sat down, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. She wondered if Esmé had experienced the same thing that morning at breakfast with Jerome.
Suddenly, Beatrice felt a pair of hands close over her eyes, and a voice she could pick out of thousands exclaim, “Guess who?”
“Hello, Esmé,” Beatrice said with a sigh. She couldn’t help but be just the slightest bit irritated with her best friend for interrupting her romantic moment.
Lemony looked equally annoyed, but not because of Esmé. Beatrice glanced over her shoulder to see Jerome standing with his arms wrapped tightly around Esmé’s shoulders. Beside him stood Jacques, who looked as though he might say something if given the chance.
“We passed by Kit and Dewey on our way over here,” Esmé said. “She looked a little annoyed.”
Beatrice leaned over in her chair just enough so that she caught a glimpse of the pair in the hallway by the payphones. They appeared to be speaking in hushed voices.
“It’s probably none of our business,” Beatrice said as she turned back to Esmé. “Let’s just leave them alone, and I’m sure Kit will come to us with the details when she’s ready.”
“They looked like they might be arguing,” Jerome explained, “or getting ready to.”
“Jerome hates arguing,” Esmé verified. “He has parents who fight a lot.”
“My father has a bit of a temper, but I wouldn’t say they fight.”
“Would you three care to join us?” Beatrice asked, if only to be polite.
“Well, I’m not very hungry,” Esmé said. “But I’ll stay if you want me to.”
Jerome pulled out one of the chairs from the table, and she sat down in it. “Are you feeling alright, Esmé?” he asked, taking a seat beside her. “You barely ate any breakfast. Are you ill?”
Esmé just giggled.
“I wouldn’t worry too much, Jerome,” Beatrice assured him. “Esmé is just very picky when it comes to food.”
Post by melon head. on Jul 20, 2008 2:31:12 GMT -5
"You can say that again," Jacques said, seating himself at the head of the table and rolling his eyes. Beatrice shot him a furious look, having known Jacques for quite some time, and being more than familiar with his tendencies to ridicule Esme. Esme looked down, her eyes filling, and Jerome seemed slightly stunned, as though his first impression of Jacques- that he was a kind, respecting young man- would prove to be incorrect.
"Did you know that muffins are dreadfully unhealthy?" Lemony asked, breaking the awkward silence. "I once had a muffin that had over 700 calories in it... wow, I certainly piled on the kilos that Winter! Though it was Christmas, so it was obviously a combination of holiday weight as well..."
Not only was this the dumbest anecdote he had ever told, but Beatrice was not looking impressed by Lemony's story. So he hastily changed the subject yet again.
"Jacques suffered from clinical depression," he began, before an over sized baguette hit him in the face.
"Sorry about him," Jacques said, wiping his hands. "He's terrible with small talk. It takes a whole lot of bread in the eye to shut him up. Esme, I didn't mean what I said. I just- erm... I think you should eat more. You don't look too good. I mean, you're very pretty, but you don't look healthy. Not like you did when I first met you."
Esme stared down at the table, and a smile spread across her face.
"I'm that good with apologies?" Jacques asked, taken aback.
Esme began to laugh uncontrollably, pointing at Lemony's tomato-stained face.
"Oh, shut up," Lemony said, laughing also. Beatrice laughed, and Jacques laughed, and a nervous Jerome laughed, and before Lemony knew what had happened, the whole table was in hysterics.
"Where'd Jacques go?" Lemony gasped, clutching his ribcage where a stitch had formed.
The rest of the group shrugged, wiping away tears of laughter. Geraldine Julienne marched past, and doubled back to them. Esme swore under her breath. Jerome did not approve of swearing, but didn't complain.
"What's so funny?" Geraldine asked, holding her newly-mended microphone to Esme's mouth. Esme pursed her lips, and shook her head.
"Fine," Geraldine said, turning to Lemony. "What's so funny?"
"Do you seriously think this is paper material?" Lemony asked, grinning. "Who cares if we're laughing? I wouldn't want to read about it."
"I would," Geraldine said. "If only Jacky were here, he'd tell me what was so funny..."
She drifted away. Jacques appeared from under the table.
"Jacky?" Lemony laughed.
"I didn't tell her to call me that," Jacques snapped angrily. Kit stormed up to the table, crying.
"What the hell happened to you?" Lemony asked.
"Let's just say that Dewey's trying to be a hero," she said, breaking down. "And he's not hero material."
Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Jul 21, 2008 10:39:59 GMT -5
Actually, I changed it because I thought it would sound better with something more pertaining to Esmé’s character. That’s the whole reason I thought you were pointing out my mistake in the first place. I wasn’t trying to make you look crazy.
“What are you talking about, Kit?” Esmé asked.
Lemony got up so that Kit could sit beside Beatrice, then ran to an empty table and retrieved a chair. Much to Esmé’s annoyance, he managed to squeeze in between her and Beatrice.
Kit explained to her group of friends and siblings how Dewey had gone behind her back (at least in her eyes) and explained her condition to his uncle the therapist. By the time she had finished speaking, tears were rolling down her cheeks in huge droplets. Both Beatrice and Esmé grabbed a handful of napkins from their trays and shoved them at their friend.
“Kit, calm down,” Beatrice said gently, “or you’ll make yourself ill again.”
By now, all traces of humor had left the faces of everyone at the table. Esmé could feel herself begin to tremble— as she so often did when she herself was upset —and felt a large, familiar hand as it reached for hers. She looked up to see Jerome. Esmé smiled at him as best she could, then turned back to her sobbing friend.
Beatrice put her arm around Kit’s back. “Kit,” Beatrice asked softly, “where’s Dewey?”
Through her tears, Kit explained that she thought he was still out in the hallway.
“Would you like me to go and get him?” Beatrice offered.
Kit shook her head and explained that if she saw her boyfriend, then she was likely to do or say something she would regret.
It was now, at the worst possible moment, that Geraldine Julienne decided to make her (uninvited) return.
“What’s going on?” she inquired, and kept her eyes focused on Kit the entire time she spoke. “I could hear you all the way across the cafeteria. You were so loud that you interrupted a very important meeting I was having with my fellow journalism students.”
Nobody seemed to notice that Jacques had disappeared again.
“Geraldine,” Esmé asked in a voice that Beatrice recognized immediately as false sweetness. “Do you have your microphone with you?”
Geraldine beamed. “Why, yes!” she said, and dug around in the pocket of her blazer until she found the microphone. “Would you like an interview?”
Once more, a small smile spread across Esmé’s bright red lips. “Something like that,” she said.
Geraldine held the microphone up to Esmé’s mouth. But before Geraldine could ask any questions, Esmé snatched the microphone out of the other girl’s hand, turned it upside down, and placed it firmly inside Beatrice’s half-empty bowl of soup.
Geraldine gasped. She was just about to ask Esmé what she thought she was doing when Esmé picked up the packet of saltines from Beatrice’s tray. After crushing them up in her hands, Esmé held the packet above the bowl of soup. She tore the packet open, letting the cracker crumbs sprinkle down onto the microphone where they landed in the soup.
Grinning, Esmé turned back to Geraldine. “So, what’s your first question?” Esmé asked.