October 21, 2010.
Laura Nyquist slowly crept into the library at Aurora High. She made sure the door didn't bang too loudly when she closed it. She had enough attention brought to her during the day, and she didn't need any more.
Laura quietly made her way around the library, hoping that she was silent enough. On one side, she saw a Sophomore girl sitting at a table scribbling in a notebook. On another, she saw some Freshman kids gathered around a computer. Laura couldn't see what they were looking at, but she figured that even Freshman kids wouldn't be dumb enough to try and look up porn on a school computer.
She passed by Mrs. Garvey's desk. Mrs. Garvey had her nose in some romance novel, but she briefly looked up when Laura passed by her. Laura saw Mrs. Garvey smile at her as she walked by. Laura quickly turned away and turned her eyes to the path in front of her.
That old biddy must be laughing at how pathetic I look. Fucking teachers. They can brag their power over us students just so they can gather in their teacher's lounge and circle jerk about what some kids were wearing, or how hilarious it was when some kid couldn't answer a simple problem. Bunch of underpaid wage slaves they are.
Laura found a small corner of the library and immediately plopped herself in the chair. There were two nice chairs set between two bookshelves, allowing for couples or partners to sit by each other and read books. Laura did think the chair felt nice. The cushions were pretty large, and the armrests did have most of their strength left to make sure her arms didn't rest on the flat wood.
Laura slouched in the chair, stretching her legs across the row. Her feet really hurt. Laura could handle most high heels she slipped her size six feet into, and cheerleading taught her to be able to stand for hours on end while doing complex flips and routines.
But she wasn't wearing high heels anymore. She wasn't a cheerleader anymore. She was just a girl who was nearly six months pregnant and could hardly walk without feeling like her feet were going to give out and cause her to crawl from place to place.
Laura was tired. That's all she felt anymore. Aside from how difficult it was to walk, Laura felt she hardly had any energy for anything. Her exercise regiment had completely fallen out of order. She couldn't have any caffeine, and her mother was watching how much sugar she ate. Laura felt like a giant blob.
Laura sat in the chair and looked at her chest. The view looked like she was staring at the Rocky Mountains there were so many hills and valleys.
Man, getting bigger tits wasn't worth the extra weight. Fuck, I'm a beast.
Laura felt the baby moving inside her. It felt really weird. She didn't know how to describe the feeling of the baby moving around inside her, but every little movement made her tense up. She just wanted to relax, completely let herself embrace lethargy. But every time she tried, there would be a little kick to knock her back into her senses.
Come on, don't you have to sleep in there? Chill the fuck out. You aren't going anywhere, and kicking certainly isn't going to make it go quicker.
Laura only recently found out the baby was a girl. Her mother has rushed her to the ultrasound determined to know if she should plan for little league or ballet classes. Laura didn't really care about finding out the gender. It was still a lump of mass that gave her stretch marks and made her quit drinking, so why should she care if she should shop for blue or pink clothing?
But the doctor informed them it was a girl, so Laura simply thanked him for the news and carried on. Laura didn't really feel much about this. She did like the idea of taking her daughter shopping, teaching her about boys, and introducing her to some fun activities like fashion and cheerleading, but she wasn't feeling any joy right now. All she saw was the bulge in her stomach, and she could feel all the movements of the thing inside her.
Laura pulled out her sketchbook from her bag and grabbed a pen. She didn't want to go home yet. She didn't want to hear her mother hound her for what she ate, or hear her father demand to know about what plans she had for the weekend. She just wanted to have a moment of quiet. Some time to let her sketch some dresses and relax.
Laura began to move the pen across the paper.
Okay, let's see. Let's start with the silhouette. Keep it streamlined, with a bit of added volume near the bottom. Now, maybe a v-neck. Yeah, that looks nice. Maybe I should do some pleating near the collar, ah, yeah, that's hot. Okay, maybe find a good print. Although, if I do the pleating on top, I might want the print to be a trim. Let's see, keep the dress white, maybe make a trim with some black and white polka dot fabric. Ooh, that's nice. Man, I'll look so hot in this, I'll-
Laura stopped drawing. She looked at the dress she sketched on the pad.
"Who am I kidding?" Laura muttered to herself. "I won't be able to wear this."
Laura closed the sketch pad and set it on her lap. She grabbed her bag off the floor and pulled out her compact. She flipped the small mirror open and took a quick look at herself. She couldn't see her entire self, so she had to hold the mirror out and move it around.
I look like total shit.
Laura got a real good look at her appearance. Her skin was looking really pale. The bags under her eyes were starting to get dark. Her hair was tied back in it's usual ponytail, but she got a real look at how messy it was after spending a day moving quickly through the halls and through the Fall wind. Her clothing wasn't that spectacular either. The sweaters she wore now were very blase, mostly depicting some local university or some bland colors. The pants she was wearing were made with an elastic band to support her growing stomach.
Laura simply sat in her chair, thinking about the girl she just looked at in the compact.
This is not me. The real Laura Jane Nyquist would wear Jimmy Choo shoes, make others stare at the custom made dress she was wearing, then get the horny men around her to buy her drinks and smokes before she straddled them. This is not Laura. This is a ghost. A phantom. A shell of a person. A real fucking homunculus.
Laura felt tears well up in her eyes. She quickly brushed her arm against her eyes to wipe the tears away.
NO! You are not some little bitch! You are Laura Nyquist! The girl who other girls came to for fashion advice! The girl who guys wanted to fuck all night! The girl who could get whatever she wanted!
*kick*
OH SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! WILL YOU STOP KICKING FOR FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES? WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?
Laura clenched her teeth as she covered her face with her hands. The kicking continued. Laura growled through her teeth. Finally, she grabbed her sketchpad and began to scribble all over a bare page. She drew anything that came to mind. Quick little stick figures that she immediately blacked out, a cat's head, even some abstract shapes. Laura stopped when one stroke mark tore a line in the paper.
She flipped the page and saw that her strokes left an impression on the previous page. The page, which included the dress Laura sketched moments earlier, now had the impressions of the scribbled stick men, and a large black line that cut the woman in the white dress with the black and white polka dot trim in half. Laura exhaled loudly.
I'm so fucked up.
Slowly We Unfurl as Lotus Flowers
Private
Marcus had been so stupid. It had been almost a month after school started before he'd heard about the pregnancy, and he'd sat on his butt for almost another month before he finally got around to doing something about it. He hadn't been trying to ignore it. Kind of hard, considering how many people in class would be whispering gossip before or after, or even during, class. It wasn't until Marcus had caught a glimpse of her, struggling to balance her books over her growing belly, in the hallways between class that the gravity of the situation really set in.
It wasn't strange for Marcus to connect to Laura. He was the kind of guy to understand that life could be horrible sometimes, and that people just needed another person to stand at their side. But Laura's situation struck a lot closer to home than anybody else had. In almost every single way, she reminded him of his mother, and Marcus knew that he needed to do something. The only reason he turned out the way he did was because some people supported his own parents when they were in this exact situation.
Finding Laura had been a lot more difficult than Marcus had expected. She seemed to never be at any of the common areas around the school: the lunch room or the student center or out on the bleachers. He'd asked a few of her cheerleader friends, but the biting names and the cruel jokes were quick to convince Marcus that not only did they not know where Laura was, they didn't care. It was no wonder, really, that Laura had drawn away from those girls. Eventually, a helpful sophomore chipped in and directed Marcus toward the library.
Mrs. Garvey was at the front desk, reading a novel as usual. She looked up and smiled in greeting, a gestured Marcus returned along with a slight bow. He scanned quickly around the main reading area, but didn't see Laura anywhere. He considered just taking the time to comb through the library, but that would just be a waste of time if Laura wasn't even here. It'd be easier to just ask, so he walked up to the desk and whispered to the librarian, "Mrs. Garvey, do you know if Laura Nyquist is here?"
The librarian put her novel down to ponder the question for a moment. She furrowed her brow in thought, as the name didn't seem to register to a face for her. Marcus was just about to whisper a few words to describe Laura when Mrs. Garvey's eyes lit up in realization. "Oh, you mean the pregnant girl?" Marcus grimaced at the librarian's choice of language, but this, he knew, was par for the course when Mrs. Garvey decided to gossip. "She came in about five or ten minutes ago. She should still be here." The librarian looked around, and came to the same conclusion as Marcus that Laura was not anywhere visible from the desk. She pointed past some shelves of history books. "Maybe she's hiding in the back? Goodness knows, with that baby bump and...."
Marcus cut her off with a curt nod and word of thanks, and quickly headed off to the back where Mrs. Garvey had pointed to. Maybe he shouldn't be, but he always felt that comments like that were directed as much at him as it was at other people. His parents had always told him that he was a gift, but it was still hard to not sometimes think that his parents would have been better off if he weren't born.
He found Laura, sitting in the corner and scribbling furiously in a sketchbook. Her movements definitely spoke of anger and frustration, and she channeled it all onto the sheet of paper up until he stroke drew a long cut through the paper. She stopped, flipped a page, and stared at the new blank page. Marcus had just stepped close enough to see the aftermath of the scribbles: deep indents on white paper of stick men and other random images that Marcus could not decipher. By his guess, Laura was right now trying too hard to bottle up all the stress, and it was taking its toll.
"Hey Laura," Marcus said as he crouched down in front of her. He looked into her eyes, and noted the redness that betrayed her tears. He thought for a moment about what to say. Maybe he should've asked his mother about this first. Too late now, though. What he needed to do now was just help Laura. Support her. Help her understand that there was a future for her. "Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked, hoping the question would cut to what was important to talk about.
She was so brave, just like his mother.
It wasn't strange for Marcus to connect to Laura. He was the kind of guy to understand that life could be horrible sometimes, and that people just needed another person to stand at their side. But Laura's situation struck a lot closer to home than anybody else had. In almost every single way, she reminded him of his mother, and Marcus knew that he needed to do something. The only reason he turned out the way he did was because some people supported his own parents when they were in this exact situation.
Finding Laura had been a lot more difficult than Marcus had expected. She seemed to never be at any of the common areas around the school: the lunch room or the student center or out on the bleachers. He'd asked a few of her cheerleader friends, but the biting names and the cruel jokes were quick to convince Marcus that not only did they not know where Laura was, they didn't care. It was no wonder, really, that Laura had drawn away from those girls. Eventually, a helpful sophomore chipped in and directed Marcus toward the library.
Mrs. Garvey was at the front desk, reading a novel as usual. She looked up and smiled in greeting, a gestured Marcus returned along with a slight bow. He scanned quickly around the main reading area, but didn't see Laura anywhere. He considered just taking the time to comb through the library, but that would just be a waste of time if Laura wasn't even here. It'd be easier to just ask, so he walked up to the desk and whispered to the librarian, "Mrs. Garvey, do you know if Laura Nyquist is here?"
The librarian put her novel down to ponder the question for a moment. She furrowed her brow in thought, as the name didn't seem to register to a face for her. Marcus was just about to whisper a few words to describe Laura when Mrs. Garvey's eyes lit up in realization. "Oh, you mean the pregnant girl?" Marcus grimaced at the librarian's choice of language, but this, he knew, was par for the course when Mrs. Garvey decided to gossip. "She came in about five or ten minutes ago. She should still be here." The librarian looked around, and came to the same conclusion as Marcus that Laura was not anywhere visible from the desk. She pointed past some shelves of history books. "Maybe she's hiding in the back? Goodness knows, with that baby bump and...."
Marcus cut her off with a curt nod and word of thanks, and quickly headed off to the back where Mrs. Garvey had pointed to. Maybe he shouldn't be, but he always felt that comments like that were directed as much at him as it was at other people. His parents had always told him that he was a gift, but it was still hard to not sometimes think that his parents would have been better off if he weren't born.
He found Laura, sitting in the corner and scribbling furiously in a sketchbook. Her movements definitely spoke of anger and frustration, and she channeled it all onto the sheet of paper up until he stroke drew a long cut through the paper. She stopped, flipped a page, and stared at the new blank page. Marcus had just stepped close enough to see the aftermath of the scribbles: deep indents on white paper of stick men and other random images that Marcus could not decipher. By his guess, Laura was right now trying too hard to bottle up all the stress, and it was taking its toll.
"Hey Laura," Marcus said as he crouched down in front of her. He looked into her eyes, and noted the redness that betrayed her tears. He thought for a moment about what to say. Maybe he should've asked his mother about this first. Too late now, though. What he needed to do now was just help Laura. Support her. Help her understand that there was a future for her. "Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked, hoping the question would cut to what was important to talk about.
She was so brave, just like his mother.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solomir. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Laura sat in her chair, staring at the sketch she damaged when she noticed a figure moving close to her.
Oh shit, someone saw all that. Great, another pair of eyes to look at me and judge me.
Laura looked at the boy in front of her. She had a lot of trouble remembering his name. He was a very plain looking Asian guy, nothing at all like the guys Laura used to prowl.
"Hey Laura"
"Uh, hi."
Oh, great, he did see all that. And he knows who I am. Well good going, you shithead. Oh well, maybe he's just looking for a book and will leave me alone-
The boy then crouched down to Laura's level.
-fuck.
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"Oh, um, uh."
Laura began to rub her face. If he saw her making a scene and had the audacity to come over to her, crouch down like he was about to pull out a diamond ring, and then ask her the gender of her baby, she certainly didn't want to look like she needed pity. Still, she didn't know this guy, she didn't need him to pry into her life.
"I'm sorry, but why do you ask?"
Laura rested her head against her left hand, staring at the boy on the ground.
"I don't believe we have ever met or talked, so I don't know why you want to know. Unless you have a way to speed the next three months up, I don't see why I should tell you anything. What, are you going to also ask to touch my belly? Please, I don't need people to pity me, or try and act like they are sympathetic to me."
Laura turned back to her sketchpad and began to sketch a dress on the next page.
"Look, maybe you didn't mean to pry, but right now, I don't feel much like talking. I'm sore, I'm tired, and I would just like to focus on my sketches. So please, just leave me alone for now. I'm not feeling great."
Laura continued sketching in the pad.
Just look busy. This kid doesn't need to get involved in your business, so make it clear that he doesn't have to. This dress doesn't even need to be complex, just look important enough to focus on. Why did that guy crouch anyways? Too proud to stand above the pregnant whore? Does he think I'll tell him about the last ten guys I fucked if he puts himself below me? God, what's wrong with him?
Laura looked up from her sketchpad. The boy was still there. He didn't seem ready to leave yet.
Fuck it. Just to get him to leave.
"It's a girl," Laura said as she quickly drew a belt on the image in her sketchpad. "She's due in February. I don't have a name yet. Her dad doesn't matter anymore. My parents are covering most of the stuff. Happy?"
Oh shit, someone saw all that. Great, another pair of eyes to look at me and judge me.
Laura looked at the boy in front of her. She had a lot of trouble remembering his name. He was a very plain looking Asian guy, nothing at all like the guys Laura used to prowl.
"Hey Laura"
"Uh, hi."
Oh, great, he did see all that. And he knows who I am. Well good going, you shithead. Oh well, maybe he's just looking for a book and will leave me alone-
The boy then crouched down to Laura's level.
-fuck.
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"Oh, um, uh."
Laura began to rub her face. If he saw her making a scene and had the audacity to come over to her, crouch down like he was about to pull out a diamond ring, and then ask her the gender of her baby, she certainly didn't want to look like she needed pity. Still, she didn't know this guy, she didn't need him to pry into her life.
"I'm sorry, but why do you ask?"
Laura rested her head against her left hand, staring at the boy on the ground.
"I don't believe we have ever met or talked, so I don't know why you want to know. Unless you have a way to speed the next three months up, I don't see why I should tell you anything. What, are you going to also ask to touch my belly? Please, I don't need people to pity me, or try and act like they are sympathetic to me."
Laura turned back to her sketchpad and began to sketch a dress on the next page.
"Look, maybe you didn't mean to pry, but right now, I don't feel much like talking. I'm sore, I'm tired, and I would just like to focus on my sketches. So please, just leave me alone for now. I'm not feeling great."
Laura continued sketching in the pad.
Just look busy. This kid doesn't need to get involved in your business, so make it clear that he doesn't have to. This dress doesn't even need to be complex, just look important enough to focus on. Why did that guy crouch anyways? Too proud to stand above the pregnant whore? Does he think I'll tell him about the last ten guys I fucked if he puts himself below me? God, what's wrong with him?
Laura looked up from her sketchpad. The boy was still there. He didn't seem ready to leave yet.
Fuck it. Just to get him to leave.
"It's a girl," Laura said as she quickly drew a belt on the image in her sketchpad. "She's due in February. I don't have a name yet. Her dad doesn't matter anymore. My parents are covering most of the stuff. Happy?"
Maybe he'd been a little bit intrusive. Maybe he'd been stupid to try to do this now, instead of months or at least weeks ago, before the rumors and gossip had built up. Nothing he could do about it now though. He just had to tough it out, with her.
Laura had been defensive at first. People usually were. When he was younger, when he wasn't used to kids being nosy about his family, he did the same thing. "None of your beeswax," he'd say, or something else equally childish. It really wasn't their business, but there had been a part of him that had wanted to talk to somebody about it, just so long as they would listen.
So Marcus listened.
It took a few moments, the library's silence broken only by the Laura's pencil scratching out a new picture on her sketchpad, before Laura talked. She told him more than he'd asked for, which mostly just saved him some time from having to ask them. It also showed that she was willing to share. Marcus could probably assume talking about it was cathartic to some degree. Venting frustrations usually did.
He calculated the months in his head. She was a lot farther along than he'd first thought. Her next few months would probably be the hardest, the most physically demanding. At least, that's what he thought based on his limited knowledge of pregnancies. All he really had to go by was some of his mother's stories. And in many ways, Laura was just like his mother was.
"You're really brave, y'know? Maybe somebody else would say that you've screwed up your life. Don't listen to that crap." Marcus paused for a moment, racking his brain for something meaningful to say. "Things will get better. I know it. I mean, if they didn't, then my mom probably would've been all kinds of messed up and I wouldn't be here."
Laura had been defensive at first. People usually were. When he was younger, when he wasn't used to kids being nosy about his family, he did the same thing. "None of your beeswax," he'd say, or something else equally childish. It really wasn't their business, but there had been a part of him that had wanted to talk to somebody about it, just so long as they would listen.
So Marcus listened.
It took a few moments, the library's silence broken only by the Laura's pencil scratching out a new picture on her sketchpad, before Laura talked. She told him more than he'd asked for, which mostly just saved him some time from having to ask them. It also showed that she was willing to share. Marcus could probably assume talking about it was cathartic to some degree. Venting frustrations usually did.
He calculated the months in his head. She was a lot farther along than he'd first thought. Her next few months would probably be the hardest, the most physically demanding. At least, that's what he thought based on his limited knowledge of pregnancies. All he really had to go by was some of his mother's stories. And in many ways, Laura was just like his mother was.
"You're really brave, y'know? Maybe somebody else would say that you've screwed up your life. Don't listen to that crap." Marcus paused for a moment, racking his brain for something meaningful to say. "Things will get better. I know it. I mean, if they didn't, then my mom probably would've been all kinds of messed up and I wouldn't be here."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solomir. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
After telling this kid about her baby, Laura turned back to the image on her sketchpad and continued drawing. She hoped that what she told him would be enough. This kid seemed interested in the baby and wanted to pry, so she hoped that by telling him the basic facts, he might go on his way and do whatever geeks like him did. Math, maybe.
She looked up and saw him deep in thought.
Great. I haven't satisfied this guy's intellectual query yet. Now he's going to want to know why the daddy isn't involved. For fuck's sake, I'm not going to tell him that. I mean, how would he react if-
You're really brave, y'know?
Laura stopped sketching and looked at the boy.
Maybe somebody else would say that you've screwed up your life. Don't listen to that crap.
Laura's mouth slowly opened.
Sage wisdom? That's what he wanted to say to me?
Things will get better. I know it. I mean, if they didn't, then my mom probably would've been all kinds of messed up and I wouldn't be here.
Laura closed her sketchbook on her lap as she stared at the boy.
"Well, you seem to know a whole lot about me," Laura said as she crossed her arms over her round belly. "You seem to be certain that everything will be all sunshine and unicorns. Well pal, I'm certain you never had to have your life completely fall apart in the course of a few weeks and have people look at you like you're wearing a goddamn scarlet letter!"
Laura then realized how loud she was getting. She didn't hadn't noticed it at first, but her voice was beginning to escalate as she chewed out the Asian kid in front of her. As soon as she mentioned a literary trope from a Nathaniel Hawthorne novel, she froze. She bit her lower lip as she peered around the corners. It didn't look like any other students had heard her, and that old bat Mrs. Garvey must have still had her face in that trashy romance novel if she wasn't coming around to tell Laura to be quiet.
Oh, thanks a lot hormones, now you make me look like a grumpy bitch! God, now what could this kid be thinking? "I'm brave?" Bullshit. I just raised my voice in public and am now panicking like a pussy. Why is it that the one time I don't want attention drawn to me I get some scrawny kid who has the balls to call me brave. Fuck him. Fuck them all. Fuck the world.
Laura then realized how hot her face was getting. Her fists had tightened, with her nails digging into her palms. She realized that there was also an impression of her teeth on her lip. And of course, there were tears forming in her eyes.
"Oh god dammit," she muttered as she quickly reached for her bag, pretending to search around for something, when all she wanted to do was make it so the Asian boy couldn't see her crying.
I bet he's regretting calling me brave now. Sorry to disappoint you, kid. I'm just a blubbering fat mess now. Don't know what you were expecting, but I've surely freaked you out now.
Laura then grabbed a book out of her bag. It was a class copy of The Great Gatsby, which she was supposed to be reading for English class. She quickly held the book up to her face and opened to a random page. She didn't even focus on the text in front of her, she just needed cover.
"Well, don't you have to be somewhere?" she asked the boy in front of her.
She quickly sniffled. She was still crying, and she realized that she wouldn't be able to stop, especially since the book was shaking in her hands.
Please go away. Please, just go.
Laura tightly shut her eyes as she pressed her teeth together in an attempt to be silent.
Just go.
She looked up and saw him deep in thought.
Great. I haven't satisfied this guy's intellectual query yet. Now he's going to want to know why the daddy isn't involved. For fuck's sake, I'm not going to tell him that. I mean, how would he react if-
You're really brave, y'know?
Laura stopped sketching and looked at the boy.
Maybe somebody else would say that you've screwed up your life. Don't listen to that crap.
Laura's mouth slowly opened.
Sage wisdom? That's what he wanted to say to me?
Things will get better. I know it. I mean, if they didn't, then my mom probably would've been all kinds of messed up and I wouldn't be here.
Laura closed her sketchbook on her lap as she stared at the boy.
"Well, you seem to know a whole lot about me," Laura said as she crossed her arms over her round belly. "You seem to be certain that everything will be all sunshine and unicorns. Well pal, I'm certain you never had to have your life completely fall apart in the course of a few weeks and have people look at you like you're wearing a goddamn scarlet letter!"
Laura then realized how loud she was getting. She didn't hadn't noticed it at first, but her voice was beginning to escalate as she chewed out the Asian kid in front of her. As soon as she mentioned a literary trope from a Nathaniel Hawthorne novel, she froze. She bit her lower lip as she peered around the corners. It didn't look like any other students had heard her, and that old bat Mrs. Garvey must have still had her face in that trashy romance novel if she wasn't coming around to tell Laura to be quiet.
Oh, thanks a lot hormones, now you make me look like a grumpy bitch! God, now what could this kid be thinking? "I'm brave?" Bullshit. I just raised my voice in public and am now panicking like a pussy. Why is it that the one time I don't want attention drawn to me I get some scrawny kid who has the balls to call me brave. Fuck him. Fuck them all. Fuck the world.
Laura then realized how hot her face was getting. Her fists had tightened, with her nails digging into her palms. She realized that there was also an impression of her teeth on her lip. And of course, there were tears forming in her eyes.
"Oh god dammit," she muttered as she quickly reached for her bag, pretending to search around for something, when all she wanted to do was make it so the Asian boy couldn't see her crying.
I bet he's regretting calling me brave now. Sorry to disappoint you, kid. I'm just a blubbering fat mess now. Don't know what you were expecting, but I've surely freaked you out now.
Laura then grabbed a book out of her bag. It was a class copy of The Great Gatsby, which she was supposed to be reading for English class. She quickly held the book up to her face and opened to a random page. She didn't even focus on the text in front of her, she just needed cover.
"Well, don't you have to be somewhere?" she asked the boy in front of her.
She quickly sniffled. She was still crying, and she realized that she wouldn't be able to stop, especially since the book was shaking in her hands.
Please go away. Please, just go.
Laura tightly shut her eyes as she pressed her teeth together in an attempt to be silent.
Just go.
Marcus wasn't entirely surprised when Laura snapped at him again. It was a perfectly reasonable response, after all. She was pregnant, and she probably did think that her life was falling into pieces. It wasn't the end of the world, but Laura probably wasn't in the frame of mind to understand that now.
When Laura started crying, though, Marcus was a bit taken aback. It probably was supposed to be something else to not be surprised at. The sight of a girl crying, though, really tugged at all of Marcus' heartstrings. For a moment, he just froze as Laura fumbled through her bag and tried to cover up her tears.
A part of him was trying to blame himself for making her cry. A part of him was trying to get him to do something to comfort her. A part of him was just confused at the turn of events. All because Laura was a girl who was crying right in front of him.
It was only when she tried to get him to leave that Marcus found the guts to do something. He reached out and laid a hand on her leg, hoping that the physical contact would be able to reassure her. "Hey. Hey, it's gonna be okay. Sure, things might suck for a few more months, but you'll get through it, because there are still people that care. Like your parents." He paused for a moment, trying to remember if there was anybody at the school, especially of the cheerleaders, that weren't particularly caustic about Laura's situation, but nothing came to mind. His eyes wandered for a moment, and he suddenly realized exactly which section of the library he was in. On the shelf right next to them was Aurora High's collection of yearbooks.
Maybe it was a sign.
"Hold on a sec, I want to show you something," Marcus told the girl gently. He withdrew his hand and ran his fingers over the spines of the past yearbooks. It didn't take long to locate the familiar looking book from 1994. He flipped to a page with his parents' photos side by side. Beside each of their pictures was a short paragraph, a space where the graduating student would write something of remembrance or of thanks or of hope for the future. His parents had shown it to him a long time ago, but reading it again always lifted Marcus' spirits. His father joked at his friends about the fun of juggling his social life with his family, and his mother wasted no space in thanking Marcus' grandparents for all their support; neither of them expressed any regret, only joy, at having raised their son.
Marcus placed the open yearbook in front of Laura. "These are my parents," he told her, pointing at the two portraits, "they were just like you." He left the book there for a few moments, allowing Laura some time to read the short writeups. Then he flipped a few pages over to a page of candid photos of various members of the graduating class, and pointed at one at the side of the page.
It showed his parents, walking toward the front doors of Aurora High School. In his mother's arms was a small baby, and his father was pushing a a plain baby stroller. They were both smiling.
"Things got better for them. Things'll get better for you, too."
When Laura started crying, though, Marcus was a bit taken aback. It probably was supposed to be something else to not be surprised at. The sight of a girl crying, though, really tugged at all of Marcus' heartstrings. For a moment, he just froze as Laura fumbled through her bag and tried to cover up her tears.
A part of him was trying to blame himself for making her cry. A part of him was trying to get him to do something to comfort her. A part of him was just confused at the turn of events. All because Laura was a girl who was crying right in front of him.
It was only when she tried to get him to leave that Marcus found the guts to do something. He reached out and laid a hand on her leg, hoping that the physical contact would be able to reassure her. "Hey. Hey, it's gonna be okay. Sure, things might suck for a few more months, but you'll get through it, because there are still people that care. Like your parents." He paused for a moment, trying to remember if there was anybody at the school, especially of the cheerleaders, that weren't particularly caustic about Laura's situation, but nothing came to mind. His eyes wandered for a moment, and he suddenly realized exactly which section of the library he was in. On the shelf right next to them was Aurora High's collection of yearbooks.
Maybe it was a sign.
"Hold on a sec, I want to show you something," Marcus told the girl gently. He withdrew his hand and ran his fingers over the spines of the past yearbooks. It didn't take long to locate the familiar looking book from 1994. He flipped to a page with his parents' photos side by side. Beside each of their pictures was a short paragraph, a space where the graduating student would write something of remembrance or of thanks or of hope for the future. His parents had shown it to him a long time ago, but reading it again always lifted Marcus' spirits. His father joked at his friends about the fun of juggling his social life with his family, and his mother wasted no space in thanking Marcus' grandparents for all their support; neither of them expressed any regret, only joy, at having raised their son.
Marcus placed the open yearbook in front of Laura. "These are my parents," he told her, pointing at the two portraits, "they were just like you." He left the book there for a few moments, allowing Laura some time to read the short writeups. Then he flipped a few pages over to a page of candid photos of various members of the graduating class, and pointed at one at the side of the page.
It showed his parents, walking toward the front doors of Aurora High School. In his mother's arms was a small baby, and his father was pushing a a plain baby stroller. They were both smiling.
"Things got better for them. Things'll get better for you, too."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solomir. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Laura kept her face shoved in The Great Gatsby, rereading the same sentence about Meyer Wolfshiem, hoping the boy would go away. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her leg.
THE FUCK????
Laura froze as he touched her leg. She set the book down and looked at the kid.
Hey. Hey, it's gonna be okay. Sure, things might suck for a few more months, but you'll get through it, because there are still people that care. Like your parents.
"Please, my parents only care that they can fix the fact that they didn't give a shit about me for years," said Laura, moving his hand off her leg.
Hold on a sec, I want to show you something.
The boy got up and began to get to search the shelves near her.
What, does this guy think What to Expect When You're Expecting is here? Ugh, this is getting pretty annoying.
The boy flipped through the pages before showing Laura images of two people. The two kids both had quotes relating to juggling a social life and a family.
These are my parents. They were just like you.
Laura was simply silent. The boy, who Laura now knew had the last name Leung, flipped the pages to a picture of the same kids with a baby and stroller in front of the halls of Aurora High School.
Things got better for them. Things'll get better for you, too.
Laura remained in thought. She now understood why Leung had bothered to get up in her face about the issue. He wanted to prove it would be fine for her and the baby. Laura felt her eyes water up. She quickly rubbed her face.
"Uh, well thank you for that. I, uh, have to go now," she stammered.
She quickly threw everything she had into her bag and got up from the chair.
"Uh, thanks," she said to Leung as she quickly began to move out of the aisles.
As she hurried towards the library exit, Laura thought about what the boy had told her.
Well, maybe he is right. Maybe it can get better. It's pretty hard to believe that now, but maybe it will.
*kick*
Laura sighed.
Guess you agree with him as well.
She rubbed her stomach.
At least one of us is optimistic.
Laura exited the library. She has spent enough time sulking. She had a life to deal with now. Two lives, actually.
((Laura Nyquist: Concluded))
THE FUCK????
Laura froze as he touched her leg. She set the book down and looked at the kid.
Hey. Hey, it's gonna be okay. Sure, things might suck for a few more months, but you'll get through it, because there are still people that care. Like your parents.
"Please, my parents only care that they can fix the fact that they didn't give a shit about me for years," said Laura, moving his hand off her leg.
Hold on a sec, I want to show you something.
The boy got up and began to get to search the shelves near her.
What, does this guy think What to Expect When You're Expecting is here? Ugh, this is getting pretty annoying.
The boy flipped through the pages before showing Laura images of two people. The two kids both had quotes relating to juggling a social life and a family.
These are my parents. They were just like you.
Laura was simply silent. The boy, who Laura now knew had the last name Leung, flipped the pages to a picture of the same kids with a baby and stroller in front of the halls of Aurora High School.
Things got better for them. Things'll get better for you, too.
Laura remained in thought. She now understood why Leung had bothered to get up in her face about the issue. He wanted to prove it would be fine for her and the baby. Laura felt her eyes water up. She quickly rubbed her face.
"Uh, well thank you for that. I, uh, have to go now," she stammered.
She quickly threw everything she had into her bag and got up from the chair.
"Uh, thanks," she said to Leung as she quickly began to move out of the aisles.
As she hurried towards the library exit, Laura thought about what the boy had told her.
Well, maybe he is right. Maybe it can get better. It's pretty hard to believe that now, but maybe it will.
*kick*
Laura sighed.
Guess you agree with him as well.
She rubbed her stomach.
At least one of us is optimistic.
Laura exited the library. She has spent enough time sulking. She had a life to deal with now. Two lives, actually.
((Laura Nyquist: Concluded))