Moving. Yet again. Because this ducking stupid—
No. Get yourself under control. You know what happened that time—
Okay. New school. Mmhm. It's alright.
He arrives at the school...
Oh yes Ade has actually read those papers.
"And have you asked her to stop?"
"Have you met Lydia? I asked twice, and then I stopped asking. Easier to work on Brian."
"Well, you're more prepared than I am! I supect the wrong answer, the one you're looking for, is homicide."
"Or car accidents, or terrorism, or other flashier answers. The answer most authors will give you is heart disease, but of course the real answer is old age, which people don't even think about—doesn't count, maybe."
Would the class like to be derailed into a conversation about the psychology of aging?
Because they will be.
Oh the psychology of aging, i.e. how people make the fact they're basically being bludgeoned on the head repeatedly into something virtuous.
Texting sounds like an awfully good idea, but he's not close enough with anyone to text. Maybe when his not-yet-even-a-tenth-of-a-relationship with Stiles advances he can do that.
He could sit next to that friendly girl from his last Spanish experience.
Friendly girl, sure, why not, he just sat with Matt. "Helloagain," he mashes the two words together.
"—no, did something happen and I somehow failed to find out all day?" He looks around, is anyone missing, did anyone get murdered?
"Regular epileptic fits? General social awkwardness? I'm not very interesting or pretty or anything, it's kind of weird for you to talk to me, especially since you're new. You have a chance to fit in anywhere."