Will had never liked Math class.
His teacher, Mr Appleton, was a fair and enthusiastic man, always dishing out encouragement and attempting to make lessons as fun as possible. Despite his best efforts, however, Math remained as interminable as ever - in Will’s eyes, at least. Today was no different; a refresh of trigonometric theorems and the like, accompanied by a worksheet that’d been gussied up with bright colours and the promise of a miniature chocolate bar as a reward for early completion. Will’s seating partner, Marley, was more than willing to help out with the answers, and together they’d finished it in twenty minutes flat. Will had always found most areas of Math - with the exception of basic Algebra, his adeptness with which surprised even himself - fairly difficult, and lingering too much on it wasn’t very good in his eyes. He preferred to stay as laidback and chilled-out as possible, something which wasn’t going to happen if he spent half an hour stressing over the sum of angle x times whatever.
After finishing with his chocolate bar, Will tossed it towards a nearby wastepaper basket, hoping to avoid leaving the comfortableness of his chair. It missed, however, and he was forced to dispose of it properly. As he walked towards the bin he passed one of the jocks - a fairly new student named A-something - and offered him a smile. He had to admit that he found the jocks more than a little bit intimidating, but it was always good to give them a good impression. A-something was a bit quieter than he’d expected - something that was actually a bit more intimidating in Will’s books. Didn’t they always say “Beware the quiet ones?”
Returning to his desk as the teacher began to reiterate the intricacies of SOH-CAH-TOA, Will rested his head on the palm of his hand as the other slipped into his backpack. He had a good half an hour to kill until class was over, and sitting in silence as the others worked wasn’t too appealing a prospect. His hand emerged from his bag a moment later, withdrawing a plain, spiral-bound notebook clenched between his fingers. He gingerly lowered it onto the desk and flipped onto an open page, gazing around the room in search of inspiration. It’d been awhile since he’d drawn up a design - a new season of SOTF had started recently, and it’d proven even more engrossing than usual. He hadn’t put near enough thought into the latest clothing designs and styles that’d been released, let alone make some rough designs of his own, and for someone as fashion-conscious as Will, that was simply unacceptable.
Fashion had become more and more important to him in recent months, ever since he’d started reading through the magazines and clothing catalogues his mother kept out in the café area of the teahouse. At first it’d started off as a way to pass time when he was bored, or to procrastinate from doing homework.Over time, however, he’d gradually become actually interested in what the magazines contained. He began paying more attention to the articles and advertisements, and it wasn’t along before he was awaiting each new instalment with bated breath, eager to see the newest designs and latest trends.
It helped that the models weren’t too bad on the eyes.
Inevitably his parents found out, and their reaction couldn’t have been better - his dad was pretty happy he’d found a new hobby beyond brewing tea and watching SOTF, and his mum was completely overjoyed that he shared her enthusiasm for clothing. She was more than willing to help him pay for any new outfits he wanted to buy - be it coats or shoes or scarves - and they were soon spending hours watching runway shows together. He ended up joining the fashion club at school too, where he’d made a plethora of new friends.
Will smiled as he uncapped his pen, and scrawled at the top of his page “Memories”. He was sure he could draw inspiration from that, somehow. His life hadn’t been spectacularly interesting so far, but there were some memorable moments, like his first girlfriend, Cassie - a fellow member of fashion club. The two of them only dated for a few weeks until they decided they were better as friends, but it’d been fun while it happened - and she’d been his first kiss too. Cassie, with her cherry chapstick that she carried everywhere and was forever applying and reapplying. Cherries. That could be something, couldn’t it?
Will scribbled “Cherries” down, and got to work.
By the time class had finished, Will’d managed a quick sketch of a eggshell-coloured peacoat, accented with cherry-coloured ruffles. The design wasn’t altogether that good - Will was the first to admit he wasn’t the best sketch artist by a long shot - but he was sure there was something he could use from it. He’d work on it a little bit more later, after he finished helping out at the teahouse and caught up on what he’d missed of SOTF. He closed the notebook and slipped it under his desk, beside his bag, just as the bell rang throughout the room - signalling the start of lunch period. Will hoisted his bag up and joined the rush of students hurrying for the door, so as not to risk missing out on taco day in the cafeteria.
It wasn’t until he’d reached his locker, sorting out his books for his next class, did he realise he’d left his notebook behind.
Wintour Watch
Memory; Private
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SansaSaver
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((Aidan Adelman memories debut))
Whoever scheduled Algebra directly before lunch was absolutely cruel. On top of the droning noise of Mr. Appleton, who tried in real earnest to explain math to a largely disinterested crowd, there was that annoying rumbling of stomachs. The jocks’ stomachs protested the delayed gratification of lunchtime tacos louder than anybody else, and Aidan was hardly an exception.
He’d been up since six in the morning that day. Well, five-thirty was when the alarm really went off, but Aidan had slammed on the snooze button stubbornly until his mother had come to disrupt his semi-conscious impudence. Tennis club didn’t discriminate just because it was early on in the semester. His throbbing, lactic acid laden thighs were a testament to that.
By the time Mr. Appleton shifted back his conversation to SOH-CAH-TOA, Aidan’s body was furiously resisting the lesson. Aidan slyly whipped out his cell phone out of his blueberry cashmere sweater’s pocket. A quick scan of the room revealed the back of the teacher’s head. Perfect. Without skipping a beat, Aidan opened up his texts and began feverishly typing away at the keyboard.
Through texts, he crafted idle chatter with Alyssa. Though they were at different school now, she was still the closest friend he had after their move. The tennis kids weren’t any bit interesting to Aidan. They were all cliquish and Aidan struggled to break in. At least back home he had Alyssa and her friends. Aidan huffed audibly.
“Mr. Adelman, did you have something to say?” Aidan didn’t recognize that the teacher had called him out right away. It was only after he’d pressed “send” on the current text message that he’d looked up to see his uncontained outburst had acquired an audience.
“Uh.. umm.” Aidan had to think on his feet. “ x equals six. We’re solving for the tangent angle right?” Aidan burst out with an answer after stalling for a brief second.
“Correct, Aidan. Would you like a chocolate for speaking up?”
As much as Aidan wanted a piece of chocolate to sate his hunger, he had already made himself stick out enough for one day. He hadn’t said a single word in this class until today, so being caught texting in front of everybody was already embarrassing enough.
“Err. No thanks. Coach says I should stay away from chocolate. “ The teacher relented, and Aidan was once again able to slink away into obscurity.
The rest of the class went by without any noticeable incident. A guy smiled at him, which was nice, but unrepricated as Aidan was finishing up a conversation with his sister. Out of concern that he couldn’t weasel his way out of being caught again, he sent Alyssa a “ttyl,” and pretended to pay attention. He wouldn’t have to pretend for very long though.
Riiiiiiing
He hastily packed his bag and began to rise out of his seat, when Mr. Appleton beckoned him over. Sweet lord. I'm in trouble. Fuck. Aidan buckled his chest, expecting a physical impact from the verbal incident.
"Great work, Aidan. You seem to have a lot of background knowledge of algebra and geometry."
That was what he had to say? "Thank you, Mr. Appleton. I did have a tutor when I was in middle school. My dad's always been big on math, so I guess it’s genetic too." Aidan hurriedly dismissed himself after pleasantries were exchanged. After picking up his bag for a second time, Aidan noticed something. That boy who'd briefly smiled at him left behind something. A notebook. He opened up the book, searching for a name to match the polite smile. Unfortunately, there was nothing to go on by virtue of a name, but the pictures inside were unmistakably unique.
"Cherries." A word that stood alone signified a masterful design of a beautiful peacoat adorned with a small ruffled fringe. Aidan greedily flipped through the pages. His book, simply entitled "Memories" certain showcased a tremendous diversity in artistic style and fashion design. Whoever this boy was, he’d piqued Aidan's fashionable interest.
Uncharacteristically, Aidan sought to find this boy and strike up a conversation. He knew next to nothing about the kid, and even less about who he was. All he has was a vague idea of where the boy's locker was.
A mere rounded turn across the hallway, Aidan recognized the boy who’d left behind the notebook. "Uh..excuse me." Aidan called out for his attention.
"You left this behind." Aidan palmed the book, slowly handing it over while he debated what to say next. "I, um, I really like your peacoat design. If I was a girl, I'd definitely wear it."
Whoever scheduled Algebra directly before lunch was absolutely cruel. On top of the droning noise of Mr. Appleton, who tried in real earnest to explain math to a largely disinterested crowd, there was that annoying rumbling of stomachs. The jocks’ stomachs protested the delayed gratification of lunchtime tacos louder than anybody else, and Aidan was hardly an exception.
He’d been up since six in the morning that day. Well, five-thirty was when the alarm really went off, but Aidan had slammed on the snooze button stubbornly until his mother had come to disrupt his semi-conscious impudence. Tennis club didn’t discriminate just because it was early on in the semester. His throbbing, lactic acid laden thighs were a testament to that.
By the time Mr. Appleton shifted back his conversation to SOH-CAH-TOA, Aidan’s body was furiously resisting the lesson. Aidan slyly whipped out his cell phone out of his blueberry cashmere sweater’s pocket. A quick scan of the room revealed the back of the teacher’s head. Perfect. Without skipping a beat, Aidan opened up his texts and began feverishly typing away at the keyboard.
Through texts, he crafted idle chatter with Alyssa. Though they were at different school now, she was still the closest friend he had after their move. The tennis kids weren’t any bit interesting to Aidan. They were all cliquish and Aidan struggled to break in. At least back home he had Alyssa and her friends. Aidan huffed audibly.
“Mr. Adelman, did you have something to say?” Aidan didn’t recognize that the teacher had called him out right away. It was only after he’d pressed “send” on the current text message that he’d looked up to see his uncontained outburst had acquired an audience.
“Uh.. umm.” Aidan had to think on his feet. “ x equals six. We’re solving for the tangent angle right?” Aidan burst out with an answer after stalling for a brief second.
“Correct, Aidan. Would you like a chocolate for speaking up?”
As much as Aidan wanted a piece of chocolate to sate his hunger, he had already made himself stick out enough for one day. He hadn’t said a single word in this class until today, so being caught texting in front of everybody was already embarrassing enough.
“Err. No thanks. Coach says I should stay away from chocolate. “ The teacher relented, and Aidan was once again able to slink away into obscurity.
The rest of the class went by without any noticeable incident. A guy smiled at him, which was nice, but unrepricated as Aidan was finishing up a conversation with his sister. Out of concern that he couldn’t weasel his way out of being caught again, he sent Alyssa a “ttyl,” and pretended to pay attention. He wouldn’t have to pretend for very long though.
Riiiiiiing
He hastily packed his bag and began to rise out of his seat, when Mr. Appleton beckoned him over. Sweet lord. I'm in trouble. Fuck. Aidan buckled his chest, expecting a physical impact from the verbal incident.
"Great work, Aidan. You seem to have a lot of background knowledge of algebra and geometry."
That was what he had to say? "Thank you, Mr. Appleton. I did have a tutor when I was in middle school. My dad's always been big on math, so I guess it’s genetic too." Aidan hurriedly dismissed himself after pleasantries were exchanged. After picking up his bag for a second time, Aidan noticed something. That boy who'd briefly smiled at him left behind something. A notebook. He opened up the book, searching for a name to match the polite smile. Unfortunately, there was nothing to go on by virtue of a name, but the pictures inside were unmistakably unique.
"Cherries." A word that stood alone signified a masterful design of a beautiful peacoat adorned with a small ruffled fringe. Aidan greedily flipped through the pages. His book, simply entitled "Memories" certain showcased a tremendous diversity in artistic style and fashion design. Whoever this boy was, he’d piqued Aidan's fashionable interest.
Uncharacteristically, Aidan sought to find this boy and strike up a conversation. He knew next to nothing about the kid, and even less about who he was. All he has was a vague idea of where the boy's locker was.
A mere rounded turn across the hallway, Aidan recognized the boy who’d left behind the notebook. "Uh..excuse me." Aidan called out for his attention.
"You left this behind." Aidan palmed the book, slowly handing it over while he debated what to say next. "I, um, I really like your peacoat design. If I was a girl, I'd definitely wear it."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Shangela. 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.
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SansaSaver
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“Oh, that’s so nice of you,” Will said, smiling as he absently tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m glad you like it.”
Truth be told, Will was more than a little surprised when A-something had approached him by the lockers, returning the notebook he’d only just realised he’d misplaced, and even more so when the other boy had commented favourably on the designs contained within it. For the briefest of seconds, he thought he was being pranked or something similar - it’d happened plenty of times before. Will was a good sport about that sort of stuff, easily able to brush off light teasing and the like and always finding the funny side of things, so he was often chosen to be the victim of pranks and whatnot. It was pretty cool, actually. However, he couldn’t help but note the sincerity in A-something’s words, and was eager to jump onto it. He wasn’t exactly lacking in fashion-conscious friends, but it was always nice to meet someone who liked clothing just as much as he did.
“It’s nothing special, really,” he said, as he retrieved a Science textbook from his locker and replaced it with a Maths one. “I was just getting a little bit nostalgic, and then... inspiration struck, I guess.”
“I feel like I should give you a reward or something,” he laughed, placing his pencil case and a few more of his textbooks into his backpack and pulling it over his shoulders. “I’ve got a few teacakes in my lunchbox, if you want one. Or three. My mum’s always giving me and my sis’ leftovers to take to school.”
He closed his locker door and readjusted his backpack, motioning for A-something to walk with him as he made his way down the brightly-lit corridor. The other boy seemed a lot nicer than he’d originally thought, any intimidation he’d previously felt having rapidly dissipated over the last few minutes.
“I’m Will, by the way. Will Brackenrig. You’re... I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name!” He laughed again, hoping to lessen the blow of his shoddy memory. “A-something, right?”
Truth be told, Will was more than a little surprised when A-something had approached him by the lockers, returning the notebook he’d only just realised he’d misplaced, and even more so when the other boy had commented favourably on the designs contained within it. For the briefest of seconds, he thought he was being pranked or something similar - it’d happened plenty of times before. Will was a good sport about that sort of stuff, easily able to brush off light teasing and the like and always finding the funny side of things, so he was often chosen to be the victim of pranks and whatnot. It was pretty cool, actually. However, he couldn’t help but note the sincerity in A-something’s words, and was eager to jump onto it. He wasn’t exactly lacking in fashion-conscious friends, but it was always nice to meet someone who liked clothing just as much as he did.
“It’s nothing special, really,” he said, as he retrieved a Science textbook from his locker and replaced it with a Maths one. “I was just getting a little bit nostalgic, and then... inspiration struck, I guess.”
“I feel like I should give you a reward or something,” he laughed, placing his pencil case and a few more of his textbooks into his backpack and pulling it over his shoulders. “I’ve got a few teacakes in my lunchbox, if you want one. Or three. My mum’s always giving me and my sis’ leftovers to take to school.”
He closed his locker door and readjusted his backpack, motioning for A-something to walk with him as he made his way down the brightly-lit corridor. The other boy seemed a lot nicer than he’d originally thought, any intimidation he’d previously felt having rapidly dissipated over the last few minutes.
“I’m Will, by the way. Will Brackenrig. You’re... I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name!” He laughed again, hoping to lessen the blow of his shoddy memory. “A-something, right?”
The boy wasn’t what Aidan was used to. Everyone had some hidden passion that they kept concealed in high school. The football jock wasn’t allowed to like art. The cheerleader wasn’t allowed to like physics. Everyone was hiding something, secrets of varying depths of shame associated with them. Aidan knew exactly what he was hiding.
This boy, however, was unabashed.
“Do you do anything with these designs? Like, do you sew them yourself?” His curiosity was piqued in the kid. The way he so cavalierly answered about his penchant and flair for fashion design was both awe inspiring and slightly making Aidan jealous.
“That’s alri--“Aidan was about to protest being offered a teacake for the simple courtesy, when his stomach betrayed him.
Grrrrrrrowwwwwll
“On second thought, I guess I could use a teacake after all.” Aidan laughed honestly.
As Aidan accepted the offer, the boy asked for his name. How funny, they had already bonded over fashion, sweets and general kindness, and they didn’t know each others’ name.
“Will, eh? Well it’s nice to meet ya, Willy. I’m Aidan.” Aidan flashed a cheery smile. “Though A-something has this kinda, avant-garde kind of appeal to it, doesn’t it?”
This boy, however, was unabashed.
“Do you do anything with these designs? Like, do you sew them yourself?” His curiosity was piqued in the kid. The way he so cavalierly answered about his penchant and flair for fashion design was both awe inspiring and slightly making Aidan jealous.
“That’s alri--“Aidan was about to protest being offered a teacake for the simple courtesy, when his stomach betrayed him.
Grrrrrrrowwwwwll
“On second thought, I guess I could use a teacake after all.” Aidan laughed honestly.
As Aidan accepted the offer, the boy asked for his name. How funny, they had already bonded over fashion, sweets and general kindness, and they didn’t know each others’ name.
“Will, eh? Well it’s nice to meet ya, Willy. I’m Aidan.” Aidan flashed a cheery smile. “Though A-something has this kinda, avant-garde kind of appeal to it, doesn’t it?”
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Shangela. 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.
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SansaSaver
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So, A-something’s name was Aidan. Will knew he must’ve heard it at some point before, but it’d simply managed to slip his mind. It was pretty silly in retrospect; Aidan seemed like a pretty cool dude - hey, anybody that liked fashion and teacakes was a lot more than cool in Will’s opinion. But it was nothing on other social blunders he’d made in the past, so he let it roll off his back. It was just easier that way. Aidan had bestowed the nickname “Willy” upon him in turn, and Will offered a light chuckle in response.
“‘Willy’, huh?” He replied, a wry grin spreading across his face. “Not my first choice of nickname, but if you keep complimenting my designs then you can call me whatever you’d like! As for my designs... well, I’m scared to start talking too much about them - else we might be here for hours.”
He readjusted one of the straps on his bag, tucking away a loose strand of hair as he took a moment to properly take in Aidan’s appearance. The other guy was pretty tall, and well-built; Will was nothing on his muscular frame and meticulously-styled appearance. Will tried to put a bit of effort into looking nice and well-presented, but at the same time he’d never understood why some people went overboard with it. Will didn’t always stick to it, but he honestly believed that people should judge you more on your personality then your appearance. Aidan was a perfect example of the reasoning behind that philosophy - ordinarily, Will would’ve dismissed him as nothing more than one of the multitude of jocks they had at Davison, would’ve been friendly and courteous to him, but never would’ve gone out of his way to get to know him. And after just a few minutes of talking, it looked like they’d be good friends.
He paused for a moment, dancing his fingers across the breadth of his lips. The teacakes in his lunchbox were pretty delicious, but at the same time there was a myriad of even tastier pastries and miniature cakes back at the teahouse. Aidan seemed a pretty rockin’ kinda guy, and Will wanted to make as good an impression as possible.
“Hey, Aidan, I don’t suppose you’re doing anything later?” He began, pausing for a moment as they reached the end of a row of lockers. “‘Cause I was thinking, what would you say to coming back to my house for a spot of tea and a few pastries? My mom’s teacakes are heavenly, but they’ve got nothing on the fresh stuff they’ve got got in the café.”
“‘Willy’, huh?” He replied, a wry grin spreading across his face. “Not my first choice of nickname, but if you keep complimenting my designs then you can call me whatever you’d like! As for my designs... well, I’m scared to start talking too much about them - else we might be here for hours.”
He readjusted one of the straps on his bag, tucking away a loose strand of hair as he took a moment to properly take in Aidan’s appearance. The other guy was pretty tall, and well-built; Will was nothing on his muscular frame and meticulously-styled appearance. Will tried to put a bit of effort into looking nice and well-presented, but at the same time he’d never understood why some people went overboard with it. Will didn’t always stick to it, but he honestly believed that people should judge you more on your personality then your appearance. Aidan was a perfect example of the reasoning behind that philosophy - ordinarily, Will would’ve dismissed him as nothing more than one of the multitude of jocks they had at Davison, would’ve been friendly and courteous to him, but never would’ve gone out of his way to get to know him. And after just a few minutes of talking, it looked like they’d be good friends.
He paused for a moment, dancing his fingers across the breadth of his lips. The teacakes in his lunchbox were pretty delicious, but at the same time there was a myriad of even tastier pastries and miniature cakes back at the teahouse. Aidan seemed a pretty rockin’ kinda guy, and Will wanted to make as good an impression as possible.
“Hey, Aidan, I don’t suppose you’re doing anything later?” He began, pausing for a moment as they reached the end of a row of lockers. “‘Cause I was thinking, what would you say to coming back to my house for a spot of tea and a few pastries? My mom’s teacakes are heavenly, but they’ve got nothing on the fresh stuff they’ve got got in the café.”