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Post by Jillian Barton on Jan 20, 2009 14:01:44 GMT -5
jack and jill went up the hill
to fetch a pale of water
jack fell down and broke his crown
and jill came tumbling after
With those words etched upon the back of her left hand in blue ink, Jillian Barton examined the nursery rhyme. When she was a child, the girl would demand for her mother to repeat it time and time again, just because she enjoyed hearing her own name being said. Now, as stupid as it sounded, the same rhyme flies through her head to save her sanity. Not really. Just when she was bored. Either way, she still thought about it.
Jill set down the ballpoint pen, the utensil used to graffiti her hand, and snuck a glance at the clock. She found herself looking at the moving hands yet again. Early for class? This was different. At her old school, Jillian was most of the time marching into class after the tardy bell and forced to take a late pass from her teachers. It got rather redundant after awhile - go in, take a pass, sit down; repeat. But then again, that was what her old school was. Redundant. There was no change, no alterations to the school day. Jill had understood that school was school, and not many things could change, but honestly? There could have been a couple things done. That, she was sure of. Not every class had to be taught in a monotone voice, and not every teacher had to assign an essay at the same friggin' time. The technology could have been updated, and different teaching methods were frowned upon.
Clearing her mind, the sixteen-year-old let her eyes scan the room. A couple of students had already filed in, took their seats and prepared for the oncoming lesson. She smirked to herself, wondering how many of them would actually stay awake. Jill knew that she herself wouldn't be one of the sleepers. Believe it or not, it was her strong subject, and she was better in it than she was in English.
Jillian propped her elbows up on the desktop, and let her cheeks rest in her palms. This was boring. Much, much too boring. Were the people seriously this slow that they needed so much time to get from class to class, or was administration the slow one? Her blue eyes glanced at the clock once more. Only a minute passed? This was ridiculous. Confirmed with another quick scan of the room, the teacher wasn't even there. Jill sighed, letting her elbows dramatically give out from under her, causing her head to fall on top of her textbook.
In the action, her arm had knocked her blue pen onto the floor. Jillian's ears had picked up on the sound of it hitting and bouncing off of the floor. With another sigh, she sat up in her seat and shifted so that she could see where it was. The blond extended her leg out in front of her, trying to reel it in with the tip of her shoe. Instead, she stepped on it the wrong way, and it spun away. Out of reach? Great. Jill leaned forward in her seat and tapped the shoulder of the person sitting in front of her. "Could you get that for me?"
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Post by James Kent on Jan 24, 2009 12:47:29 GMT -5
 There was something funny about spending so much time at Bullworth without even taking a single class… But the headmaster had finally caught up to Jim and secured him a schedule that made some sort of sense to someone. As Jim took a seat in his history class, he looked it over and was pretty resolute in the fact that what he’d been given was a schedule of the only classes with spots still open. He was thankful at least that history was on the list; a subject that he not only enjoyed, but excelled in. It was also just nice to be in a classroom, for one reason or another.
He took very little notice of the few other students that trickled in. Before he could start wondering where everyone was, his eyes landed on the large clock that hung ominously over the door do the classroom. Timed locks, he thought to himself with amusement, wondering if such a thing would even be legal. This room had no other notable characteristics and he was left with his own belongings. There was a notebook with some loose leaf paper and the history book his supply list had prescribed. Other than that and the pen in his hand, he was pretty much free of all other kinds of clutter.
As the time ticked by ever slowly, ever silently the person behind him, whoever it was, seemed to grow increasingly impatient, or so he assumed. There was a lot of shuffling; some nearly inaudible sighing and a general feeling of boredom, radiating from the seat. More than once in the five minutes that the person sat behind him, he thought of striking up a conversation… But it was class and an early class at that. Not wanting to get his head snapped off or something similar, he just waited.
All of the impatience finally culminated in a sort of heavy sigh followed by the sound of a body slumping over a desk. This brought a smile to Jim’s face, who looked down to avoid attracting too much attention. Between his legs he could see a ballpoint pen and the foot of whoever was situated behind him. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, followed by the request for retrieval, Jim bent forward and took up the writing instrument before turning around and seeing to whom it belonged.
What he saw wasn’t all that bad. There could be worse people in the world sitting behind him. Instead, there was a cute bleach blonde with a rocker-style haircut sitting behind him. Yea, it definitely could have been worse, he thought to himself as he handed over the pen, setting it on her desk. “No problem. I’m Jim,” he said, offering her his hand to shake, which in and of itself was a bit of an archaic gesture. You could take the boy out of high society, but you couldn’t take the high society out of the boy. There was something familiar about this girl, but he just couldn’t place it. Hopefully, she’d be good enough to tell him if there was something he knew about her.
....................................................................................................... hey... Jill
it's... Jim
just kickin' in in my...outfit (minus the hat)
listening to..."Creep" - Radiohead
counting...521 words
other info/notes... Hey, before you reply I sent you a PM. >.<
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Post by Jillian Barton on Jan 24, 2009 14:11:03 GMT -5
“Thanks Jimbo,” Jill finally said, eagerly as she picked up her pen again. The blond hadn’t even noticed, let alone look at, who it was she was talking to. Sliding the cap over the tip of the writing instrument, Jillian silently hoped to avoid having anything else falling off of the desktop for a good solid, oh, five minutes or so. Back at her old high school, if class was getting boring and the person across from her was being disgusting and drooling all over their desk, she’d simply push her textbook off to the side until it had no choice but to fall off. Oh, how Jill would grin at the drool-covered teenager as they jumped in their seat. But, as odd as it sounded, she wasn’t in the mood for that kind of attention just yet. Things could have changed, however, and if the conditions were right you could probably count on a kamikaze book falling within Jillian’s area.
Jill set down her pen on top of her closed textbook, and only then did she look up at her classmate. She grinned and finally reached out to shake his hand in reply. “Well, nice to meet you, Jimmy. I’m Jill.” Before letting go of his hand, however, Jill’s blue eyes stayed locked in on his. There was something incredibly familiar about the boy sitting in front of her. If a legitimate reason didn’t come to mind within ten seconds, the whole thing was going to bother her probably more than it should have. Without realizing it, she had tilted her head ever so slightly to examine his face from a different angle. Nope. Nothing. Nada. This was getting ridiculous.
Growing increasingly impatient with herself, she rattled through all of the seemingly valid scenarios that could have involved the dark-haired boy sitting in front of her. Tap? Nah, that was too long ago. Besides, would she really have the memory to remember someone from a class she took when she was four? It was unlikely. Boston? Nope, Jill was pretty much sure the guy wasn’t from Beantown. He didn’t have that accent like those that inhabited the city. That right there ruled him out of going to her old school; he wasn’t a Massachusetts native (or, that was what she was assuming), and she would have known right off the bat that he was a former classmate. That only left one other option – Seattle.
Jillian let go of Jim’s hand, bringing hers back to rest her chin in its palm. “Totally out of the blue, but are you from Washington? I could be wrong and all that but…yeah.” Bringing back the ‘r’ word, Jill mentally slapped herself for being so ridiculous. She was pretty much convinced that she was talking to the one and only Jim from Seattle, and she’d be friggin’ pissed if he wasn’t – that would mean that she didn’t know who it was. But it was him. It just had to be.
Back when Jill was a ‘good’ girl, she would curse the long flights to and from Seattle from Boston. Every summer, she and Lucky would travel to Washington just because their father was a dick and had to move across the county after the divorce. It was something she had grown to resent, but nevertheless it was just a part of her life. But in recent years, she looked forward to spending time at her lax father’s place, and away from her caring friend. Life was just one big party when she was in Seattle.
The first time she snuck out to go to a party was at her dad’s. Her neighbor from down the street told her to meet at her place, and that she’d take her there. They both went, there was alcohol and Jill had her first drink. That was the same night she befriended the toilet, but at least her father was swamped with work, and her step-mother was away on a business trip. Lucky wasn’t old enough to know exactly what happened seeing as he was only seven. Jill and her neighbor went to more parties than they could have imagined that summer, and the one that followed. Eventually she ended up flying solo when Jennifer’s parents caught on and sent her friend to summer camp. Because of this, and if her hazy memory proved correct, Jill had seen Jim many, many times before.
Damn it, it was Jim.
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Post by James Kent on Jan 24, 2009 15:14:59 GMT -5
Jim searched her face, waiting for the moment that their eyes would make contact. It seemed like eye contact was Jim’s key to remembering who a person was. It was one of the things that had made him such a networker; he had a gift for remembering names and even the most random of details about people. More often than not, Jim had been the spokesperson of his little group of friends; reminding them of the name of the girl they’d gotten with at the last party when they got to the next one and the girl in question was seen again. Jim had a mind for details; things like what one of his friend’s girlfriend’s favorite flowers were and when exactly it was that he was supposed to give her a bouquet of those.
Maybe that was where he recognized this girl from? Had she been one of the conquests of one of his less savory Seattle friends? It was hard to say just by looking at her. Her hand lingered in his for a moment, as if trying to recall a similar memory. They sat there for a moment in awkward silence, still desperately clutching each other’s hand as if it would be the only way they would know each other. Jim released his breath as she mentioned Washington; so she was a face from the past. “Yea, I used to live in Seattle,” he said noncommittally. It would be all right if he knew where he knew this girl from, but he still couldn’t quite place her face.
There was no doubt in his mind that she knew him from the party scene; unfortunately for Jim that was just about the only scene he was part of. That and the country club scene took up most of his time and once he was sure that she wasn’t one of the girls who drove around the golf course serving drinks, he was sure it was the party scene. He continued holding her hand with a smile on his face. And then it hit him; like a firework going off right under your feet or a train whipping past you so fast that you were knocked to the ground. For all intents and purposes, Jim managed to stay planted firmly in his seat, but the shock was almost too much.
“Jillybean?” He said, his voice a bit shaken. The nickname was stupid, but one he had unceremoniously convinced everyone to call her as a reference to a play on words; the bean representing her natural habitat of Boston aka Beantown. The girl would sweep into town like a whirlwind. She had this accent that was charming and an attitude to match it. She had started in slowly, coming with another girl whose name escaped Jim. That girl hadn’t spent that much time out that summer, instead getting shipped off to camp for bad behavior. He had remembered pouring Jill a shot of something and the two of them toasted their good luck that their parents didn’t care less what the local nightlife was like.
Jim collected his few belongings and shifted to a seat that was beside Jill instead of in front of her. All the better for them to talk and certainly there would be a lot to talk about. Though he was sitting in his own chair, he leaned over and slid his arm along the back of hers. “Jillybean, Jillybean,” he continued, now sure of it since he was getting a better look at her. “How’s tricks?” He said with a knowing grin. “You’re looking good Jilly,” he added, giving her a quick once over.
....................................................................................................... hey... Jill
it's... Jim
just kickin' in in my...outfit (minus the hat)
listening to..."Carolina on My Mind" - James Taylor
counting...609 words
other info/notes... haha I think this'll work out fine.
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