Heavy is the Head That Wears the Crown

[Cactus]

Connor couldn't help but laugh at Joanne's affirmation of Mr. McClellan's racist tendencies. He knew that was the case - hell, everyone knew it that day. How dare the big, smart, white teacher be told off by the short, fat black girl? Half of the general hilarity of McClellan's failure was watching his failings be pointed out by the exact stereotype that he clearly had very little time for. In a different time or place, Connor might have stepped up and said something, but as ever was clear for Joanne Coleman, help wasn't necessary. There was a time and a place for the defense of those who needed it, but Connor never knew Joanne to be someone in need of that.

At her impression of old McClellan, he laughed a genuine laugh. The crotchety old history teacher had an easily imitable voice, and to hear his mannerisms come from Joanne left a warm feeling in his body. Those who judged people based upon the colour of their skin were offensive in Connor's book, and he made it a rule not to associate with them.

Who was McClellan to say otherwise? Racist old prick.

As Joanne's phone started to erupt in song and vibration, Connor knew that his shockingly enjoyable jaunt to the mall was probably coming to an end. The Sunday crowd had started to file out, and as much as Joanne's company gave him a degree of pleasure, there were things that had to be accomplished. He would inevitably have to go home, wrap Madison's gifts, and then, as Mackenzie had indicated earlier, figure out just what the hell he was doing for Valentine's Day.

Watching as Joanne pulled herself to her feet, Connor opened his mouth to object to her leaving the money behind that he'd placed on the tray, but one look from her caused him to shut his mouth. This was a battle that he wasn't going to win. It was a nice gesture on his part, sure, but sometimes people didn't get the hint. Joanne's held-up hand was evidence enough that he was going home with his share of the money. So onion rings, courtesy of one J. Coleman.

Thanks, Jo.

"Take care, Joanne. See y'all on Monday, huh?"

Waving a genial goodbye to Joanne, he gave his fingers one last wipe-down from the napkin on the tray, and collected his bags from around his feet. He had all three, and he was more certain than ever that Madison would love the jacket. If not, well, he'd chalk it up to a mood, or something. Nobody could ever tell with Madison. Whether or not the Valentine's Day plans ended up succeeding would undoubtedly be based upon what he came up with. A dinner, a movie, a play? There were many options. God knew if she'd even like any of them. The girl was harder to read than a calculus textbook.

Glancing back up from his bags, Joanne had quickly disappeared from view, leaving him to his own devices. That was fine. He made a mental note to check in with Joanne in a couple of days. This had been a really pleasant trip to the mall - better than he'd otherwise anticipated. As he stood up and gathered his belongings, he left the tray sitting on the table in front of him, turning and walking towards the exit of the mall food court.

Maybe shopping wasn't so bad after all.

((Connor Lorenzen continued in Feels Like Summer))