Log: An Awkward Lover's Reunion.
From Literepetition
|
Ahh, the joys of morning. Well, even though Lettie made a point to not sign up for crack-of-dawn classes, she's still gotta get out of bed and motivated at some point. And now that she's got an actual morning regimine to keep up with, her sleeping in time is spent less with sleeping and more with things like makeup and curling irons and other girlie stuff. She's got a cup of coffee in one hand that's from the on-campus coffee shop and she sips it absently as her oversized-sunglasses clad eyes scan her phone while she texts with her free hand. She's got on shiny high heeled boots, a tight tunic top that shows off the brand new chest and looks polished and posh. It's a far cry from the old Lettie. Even her hair's different. Gone are the streaky highlights and in place are more subtle, mature ones. Her cartoon backpack is gone and replaced by an oversized hobo bag that hangs from one elbow and a messenger bag that's strapped across her chest holding her books. And on she walks across campus.
John has very early classes. Some of them he even has to be at before dawn actually comes around. He doesn't mind; he likes being in during the day and out during the night. It still makes it a chore to get from class to class, since he has to walk outside. But such are things. Polidori's fashion also changed just slightly over the summer: he's got on slacks, a white shirt and a black vest, and a hat on his head to keep the sun's rays from his eyes. His soft briefcase is all-but dragged along as he makes his way across campus.
Lettie taptaptaps a few more times before looking up from her phone. She spots a familiar figure dragging himself, and nearly dragging that briefcase, down the way so shifts her direction to intercept. When she's not too far from him, and is somewhat confident he's probably not noticed yet (or maybe she's just too oblivious to have noticed it, which is pretty par for the course with her), she calls out an absent, "Hey John," and keeps on her course, apparently intending to pass right by him.
"Hi Lettie," John says with a brief, dark smile as he continues walking. "Nice chest." And that's all. He keeps on walking, apparently confident that she'll do a 180 and follow him.
And, of course, she does. After about three more steps, it hits her what he said and she turns and quick-steps to catch up. "Oh, yeah. I decided I needed to be more of a girl so I decided to grow boobs finally. You should see them in all their glory. They're /fabulous/." She tucks her phone into her pocket as the other hand holds out the cup. "Coffee?"
John tips his head a bit to the side and glances at her, still giving her that dark, small smile. He shrugs. "Sure. I can do coffee." He nods and continues on his way, in the general vicinity of the coffee place.
Lettie rolls her eyes a bit, playfully. "You can have some of mine. But then again, it's full of sugar and mocha stuff and you'd probably yack," she teases before stopping in her tracks. "John Polidori, you turn around right now and give me a proper hug. I haven't seen you in /ages/ and you're all like 'oh gee, hi Lettie' like it's been two days or something. Maybe I should go find Byron, at least he'd appreciate my boobs if not the rest of me."
John stops, turning around slowly and scrunching his nose. "You haven't changed that much," he observes smugly. John? Give a hug? No no no. She gives the hugs. He tentatively reciprocates maybe.
"Neither have you," Lettie murmurs as she wraps her arms around him and snuggles up, giving him no choice but to get Lettie-cooties aaaaallll over him. Yes, apparently the hugless hug is noticed. "But, actually, I have. Sorta. I'm... I'm in college now," she mentions as she pulls away, careful to not let her coffee slosh before nodding her head toward the coffee shop and heading slowly back in that direction. "I'm an adult, you could say. The old me was still a kid. Anyway, I have a whole new outlook, new clothes and a new car."
John gives her the hug she wants. Well. It's -a- hug. Maybe not -the- hug. He squeezes her briefly before taking a step back and snorting lightly. "New outlook?" Because the clothes and the car don't mean much to John.
Lettie nods a bit. "Yeah. I've decided that success comes to those who want it. So I'm actively going to work for it instead of waiting to see if it happens or not." She must, apparently, mean the acting thing. "I plan to shine brightly and brilliantly in life and be the superstar I know I can be. I know it sounds corny, but I feel more /free/ than ever before. Ya know? You should try it sometime. Get rid of all the doom and gloom. Anyway, I missed you. Tell me how your summer was. I've hardly seen anyone since I got back. Saw Sammie. Her hair is /awesome/."
"I like my gloom," John contests, and adds: "My summer was ordinary. I spent it with my family back home in Georgia." Byron and Sammie went off to Greece. John stayed home and suffered through three grueling months of his parents and sisters. "I'm going to visit Sammie later today. She needs painkillers for her cramps."
"Still playing pharmacist I see," Lettie murmurs in amusement. "That's one thing I certainly missed over summer. And I vote that next break, none of us go home. Sounds like it was almost as boring and dull as my visit back. Do you know my dad gave me a curfew. /Eleven/. None of the good parties even /start/ until then. I felt like I was twelve or something. I guess he was afraid I'd run off to a darkened room with some boy and lose my virginity or something."
John snorts. "Bit late for that, isn't it?" He smiles vaguely and then shrugs. "They needed time alone. It's fine." John's used to it. "I didn't get a curfew, but there aren't many good parties back home when Byron's gone."
"Yeah," Lettie says, and behind those huge sunglasses, she even flushes a little and her lips try hard not to, but they tug into a smile anyway. "Bit late for that. So. Whatcha got for your next class? I have about twenty minutes if you wanna sit and catch up." She nods her head toward the coffee shop entrance. "Or, ya know, if you don't want to, that's cool." Okay so hints of OldLettie still shine through. And she's back to that nervously playing with her sleeve thing that she used to do when she felt awkward. But she catches herself and tries to make herself stop doing it.
"I can hang out for a bit," John agrees, scratching the side of his jaw softly. "I'd like to find some shade for it, though. Sun..." Well. He doesn't like the sun. It's all bright and shiney and home don't play dat.
"Well we can go inside," Lettie says as shepeers around. "Or there's some trees over there. We can sit under them. Don't worry, I remember, you'll catch fire if you're in the sun too long," she teases. Absently, she turns a tiny bit and reaches her hand out at her side to brush her knuckles against his hand. Aww. "Did you eat yet? I got a muffin earlier, we can split it if you want. Blueberry."
"Either way is fine," John opines about inside-or-under-the-shade. As long as it's not direct sunlight, he'll be okay. Well. He'll be okay even if it is direct sunlight, but he'll be a very annoyed sort of okay. "So how goes your venture into popularity and social life?" He's heading for the shaded tree.
Lettie laughs a little as she too heads for the tree shade. "Popularity and social life? Now where in the world did you get the idea I ever found a social life or got popular?" She pulls the messenger bag over her head and drops it onto the ground. Her handbag follows suit and then she carefully, extra careful not to slosh her coffee, sits down on the ground.
"I didn't. But it looks like you're heading towards getting that sort of thing. Like it's your goal." John shrugs. He drops his briefcase and then crosses his legs, settling down under the oak's shade. It's a big tree. After a few seconds of rumaging he produces a few cigarettes and a lighter.
Lettie shakes her head. She doesn't even /ask/ as she motions to hand her a cigarette, too. He should know her well enough by now to know that she likes to pretend she's a hardcore smoker. "No, it's not. I... I don't have a goal. Not like that," she murmurs, shrugging a bit. Finally the sunglasses are pushed up to the top of her head, showing that she's still prone to wearing a lot of eye makeup. Only now it's all the time, not just once in a while. "So what, you don't approve of the new, improved me?"
John hands her one cigarette and offers her the light, and then lights his own. He shrugs. "I like Lettie." He smiles at her and leans against the bark of the tree, tipping his hat down a bit to cover his eyes, even though they're in the shade. "She's fun. Fun in her room, fun in my room, fun at the movies, fun in the dark, fun in the snow and fun at the park." His smile is darkest just before he yawns. "Long as she's around somewhere, I'm good.'
Lettie puffs on the freshly lit cigarette. She does actually inhale, which is an improvement from months prior. So what if she takes in a lot of air with the hit, she's getting better at this! "You sound like a bad Dr. Suess story," she teases. "But yeah, she's around. She's right here. John, /I/ didn't change. Just parts of me did." She glances down at her chest. "Some parts more than others. I was actually kinda worried. Thought maybe you liked flat chested girls more and that you wouldn't think I'm cute anymore. And speaking of fun in my room, you should come by. I'm thinking of painting. Though Sammie said something about pledging somewhere during rush week."
"Do they move a lot?" John asks, furrowing his brow and looking at her from under the rim of his hat. He smiles and then takes a long drag of his cigarette. "Pledging. Hrmph. Careful with those frat boys. All they do is try to get sorority girls drugged up so they can fuck them." Uh, John?
Lettie takes a sip of her coffee before responding. "So I take it you and Byron will be joining a fraternity," she states in an offhanded way, trying hard to hide her smirk. "Besides, I don't have any interest in getting drugged up and fucking anyone." She pauses, giving John a very pointed looking over. "Well, I might make an exception or two."
John snorts loudly. "He is. I don't have time for that kind of thing." He picks at the grass, ripping it out and tossing it aside as he drags his cigarette again. "Too much work. Pre-med is heavy on the course load. I haven't even gotten to join any clubs yet. I don't know if I'll be able to."
Lettie smiles a little. It's not a coy smile or anything like she spent the summer perfecting to go along with her new persona. It's a genuine smile, kinda crooked, and typically Lettie through and through. "Still doing the doctor thing, then? Good. But you'll have to be in whatever frat Byron ends up in, or trust me, the world might not be able to handle him without someone holding his leash like you do. That'd be a bad, bad idea for him to be let loose in a frat alone." She takes another hit off her cigarette and blows the smoke into the slight breeze. "I'm joining that environmental one. And any theater related stuff. You should make time to do at least one. Don't burn yourself out. You'll need to find some way to relax and have fun."
"Uhm. I like my classes, though." John flicks his fingernails (which are suspiciously long for someone who wants to go into medicine) along the underbrush of his beard (which is perhaps one of the very few things about him that has changed. He has one now). "I'm not sure what I'd join, anyway." He drags his smoke again, and exhales quickly. "And Byron will prob'ly join with Shelley and Hemingway and someone else. He'll be fine."
Lettie gives a bit of The Look. "Did you really just say that Shelley, Hemi and Byron together is /fine/? That's a recipe for disaster, John. Besides, think of all the girls you could bang if you were in a frat," she teases.
John eyes Lettie. "I'm sure they'll be fine. At most, they'll take over the joint and run it however they want. That wouldn't be too bad. It'd be nice to have one decent place in this campus to get high in. Anyway, I don't have time for fucking a lot of girls." He has to STUDY.
"Well, can't say it wouldn't be nice to have one place to get high," Lettie says as she exhales the cigarette smoke. "So, what about time for one girl, then? Or should I not bother to ask what you're doing tonight and if you wanna come help me move my room around and split a bottle of vodka with me? I brought a shitload of booze. My brother was home and bought for me."
"It's Monday night," John says with a short blink. "You do realize my classes start around six in the morning, right?" He has an -early- schedule. Most of the time he just sleeps during the afternoon and stays up at night until class. After a moment, he takes a drag of his cigarette and snorts. "Fine. But I'm bringing my homework."
"Fine," Lettie says in a chipper, nah-nah kind of way. "I'm in the girls dorm. Know where Sammie's room is? I'm exactly over her. Which is awesome in some ways, but I'm not looking forward to seeing how thin the flooring is when Byron comes for a visit," she says with a smirk. "But we're totally learning morse code. I dunno why, it's not like we don't text each other a billion times a day anyway. But you're insane. Why'd you take such early classes? I purposely took ones that started after nine or later. And bring your homework. What homework, maybe I can help."
"Well. We were told to pick a topic to write an essay about for our Anatomy class. So I picked olivopontocerebellar degeneration." John gives her a smile, and then drags his cigarette.
Lettie just stares a little, giving that blank expression she does when he uses big words. "Olive-pant-cerebular degeneration?" she echoes, butchering the big word. "I... don't know what that is. I can't help, can I? Why can't you ever take /easy/ classes? Why do I have to hang out with a guy whose IQ is like ten times mine?"
"OPCD. It's a cerebellar degenerative disease presenting with ataxia indistinguishable from that due to primary cerebellar atrophies but one in which the degenerative process starts in the pon..." John trails off, watching her face, and then just shrugs. "It's a brain fart that can kill you."
Lettie brightens considerably at the last part. "Oh!" See? She gets it now! "See? That's all you had to say. Well, I can uhm... hold your books for you. You can prop them up on me while you read and I drink. Maybe I'll be naked. I sleep naked now." She's saying it in an entirely offhanded way, but checking to see if there's any reaction. Any reaction at all.
"You'll change your ways when it gets colder. We're in New York, not Texas; and from what I've seen, the dorm buildings can get pretty drafty." John drags his cigarette again, blowing a smoke ring.
Lettie sighs and shifts a bit so she can lean in. "John, I'm inviting you over to have sex with me. It's been /months/. A girl has needs and you... well, aside from that weird beard thing you have going, you look good."
"Uh. Yeah, Lettie, I know. I thought that was implicit?" Seriously. He thought it was obvious. John + Lettie + Alone = Sex. Do they actually have to -talk- about it first?
"Well-- Fine! I-- You're all--" Lettie sighs a bit and makes a 'whatever' gesture with her free hand and the coffee. "Whatever. You could at least act like I'm not /that/ easy. Or that you'd be at all /interested/ and not just be all 'Oh gee, Lettie's here, she's got a single room, I'm gonna go over and bang her until she can't walk anymore. But I'm John Polidori so I gotta act all 'whatever' about it and drive her insane when all she can do is think about how much she likes my little beard even when she claims not to' -- and /why/ did I miss you so much?" She's smirking a bit at the end, like it's all falling back into place easier than she thought it would.
John just gives her a long, blank look, and then a crooked, dark smile. "I missed you, too." D'aw. He's horny. Only explanation.
Lettie points out, affectionately, "You're an ass. Why do I put up with you?"
"Uhm." John shrugs and takes another drag of his cigarette, staring at her with one of those blank, indescribable stares that just look like they can go on forever. He hardly blinks. "Be... cause... you like drugs and I have them?"
"Shut up," Lettie says with a laugh before taking another hit off her smoke and then a sip of her coffee. "You know that's not the only reason. Believe it or not, I think you're kinda hot. In a weird way. Plus the sex is good, so that's a bonus." Because she has /oh/ so much to compare it to, right? "Anyway, I really /am/ glad you're sticking with the pre-med thing. You'll be a good doctor. You can say all those big words. You can probably spell them, too. I'm never playing you in scrabble."
"I do rule in Scrabble," John confesses with a slow nod. He more or less ignores everything else she said. Because having conversations like that is not something John Polidori ... does. Not unless he's cornered; and she can't corner him out in the open!
"I also won't play you at Trivial Pursuit," Lettie points out. "Unless it's the Disney edition, then I'm totally kicking your ass at it. Because somehow I don't expect you to know your Princesses. Though we could always run off to Disneyland to teach you about them, but that'd involve like crowds and hot sunshine and all that stuff."
"Crowds and hot sunshine are not good things." John smirks a bit and then drags his cigarette again. "And no. I don't know much about Disney at all." If one were to try and imagine John's reaction to Disney, the Addams Family Values might come to mind. "I think Byron threatened to drag me to Disneyland once."
"Shoulda let him," Lettie murmurs as she takes another drag off her smoke, then reaches down to stub it out on the ground next to her. "You know, if you let yourself actually loosen up for even a day, you might find that things involving people and heat and rides can actually be /fun/. I love Disneyland. But then, I used to want to be a princess so I guess that explains my fascination for it."
"People and heat and rides." John raises a brow at her. "I thought we already explored that?"
"It's not so bad," Lettie murmurs. "Really. Plus Disneyland is like the happiest place on earth or something. So they say. But really, when you're there, it's like nothing bad goes on in the world. Like everything's fun and shiny and happy and all that. When you're there, you can forget that there's like war and ickiness going on. You know, I'm thinking of joining one of these campus protest groups. Because war's like totally sucky."
"So Disneyland is where people go to be ignorant plebes with no social map or moral compass; a place where everything is as it should be on the surface and no one thinks about what lies beneath because the fake sunshine savagely shreds the shadows?" John sniffs a bit, and drags his smoke. "Sounds like home."
Lettie swirls her coffee a little bit. "Don't make fun, John. I /like/ Disneyland. I /like/ having a place where on the surface everything is as it should be because there aren't any shadows to hide in or hide from. I /like/ everyone being happy and nice and full of fun. Life sucks, ya know? It's nice to get away from it sometimes." Which might explain the aforementioned 'Lettie <3 Drugs' thing.
"Right." Jon raises his brows and shrugs. "I guess I just can't think of a worse hell than happiness coating the savage reality underneath."
"You're such a doom and gloom pessimist," Lettie points out. "No wonder we get along so well. Polar opposites and all that." She scoots over a bit to lean her back against the tree, too. "Nice to see not everything's changed." With her free hand, somewhere along the line she dug into her bag and pulled out a crinkly paper bag. "Here." Inside the bag is her aforementioned blueberry muffin. "I bet you didn't eat anything yet today, did you?"
John eyes the blueberry muffin and heaves a short sigh, shaking his head. "No. I don't eat until lunch." Which is still an hour or so away. "I'm fine, though." He shrugs. "And I'm not a pessimist." He's just detachedly depressed.
Lettie sighs a bit. "Sure you're not. You're utterly an optimist, aren't ya? And you're probably going to forget to eat at lunchtime. And then you'll be all 'Oh I'll just wait until dinner and eat then' I bet. So I'll order a pizza tonight and force you to eat some of it."
"I eat. I don't forget." Liar. He forgets constantly. It's a miracle he's still alive. He shrugs and puts his cigarette out on the sole of his shoe. "Meatlover's?" Hopeful.
Lettie gives The Look. The flat one. The 'you are such a lying liarhead' one. "John, you know as well as I do that if someone didn't force you to eat half the time, you'd either forget or just put it off and put it off and put it off... But yes. If I can find a decent pizza place around here that deli-- actually, I can go pick it up! I have a car now. So it's just a matter of finding a place that doesn't /suck/."
"I guess." John still doesn't have a car. He's a poor kid on a scholarship, after all. The rich one is Byron. "I'll be fine. I eat enough, obviously. I'm alive." Unfortunately.
"Mmm hmm," Lettie says as she pulls the muffin out and rips off a bit to stuff in her mouth. "You eat /plenty/," she says around the mouthful of muffin. "Here. Open up. Make me happy, eat some. Pleeeeaaase?" She pulls a bit of muffin off and holds it near his face. "Pleeeaaase?"
John makes a face like 'eugh' and leans away, putting his hand up to protect himself from the evil muffin. "I'm fine. Honest."
Lettie's muffin is not evil! It's tasty and nutritious! She frowns and eats the bite herself, instead. "Fine," she says, the word a little muffled from the mouthful. "Oh I gotta give you my new number. Cuz I got a new phone plan a few days ago. I got unlimited texting now." Because John texts her OH SO MUCH apparently that he'd care? Whatever.
"Uhm. Okay." John reaches for his bag, pulling out a Nokia 1100. Yes, John lives in the pre-historical phone era. He pulls up his contacts and waits.
"Wow do you suck," Lettie mentions as she motions to the phone. If it can be called a phone and not an antique. She rattles off her number. Which isn't so different than her old one. "Oh and while you're in there, put in my room number." She rattles that off, too. It's the top floor of the girl's dorm. Corner room. The one over Sammie's. She holds her phone up and clicks a few things to bring up the entry for him. "I didn't have a picture of you and it's got that picture thing that comes up when someone calls, so when you call me, it shows Jack Skellington. See? Isn't that just the cutest thing?"
"I uh... I don't have anywhere to put your room number." Nokia 1100 don't have a 'notes' section in their contacts. It's just name-and-number. "It's okay I'll find it." He gives her a brief smile at the Jack Skellington bit. Johns never been very photographic.
"Oh. Yeah. Your phone sucks," Lettie points out. "And I'm sure you'll find it. I brought stuff to decorate my door with. And we have those silly wipe-off board things on them, too. Oh, you should totally see what I used for a picture of Byron. Check this out." She taps a few times before turning the phone back over to show. It's a picture of Bob Marley with a huge blunt. "I convinced my dad that all my friends at school were Rastafarians."
John blinks at the picture and then snorts, shaking his head. "That's... actually not a bad facsimile," he opines, shrugging. "He is much of a pot head musician."
Lettie smirks a bit and closes her phone. "I should put a picture of a skinny white kid for Shelley," she teases. "Anyway, I kinda like you being the Nightmare Before Christmas guy. It suits you. We should watch it sometime. But not tonight. Tonight's pizza, vodka and homework."
"Sounds about right," John says. He pockets his phone and coughs, glancing up. "I think I'm late for class."
"Oh. I didn't mean to make you late!" Lettie says as she gets up and brushes herself off before bending down for her bags. "Well, see you tonight then? Gimme a call when you're done with class. I'll have pizza ready and waiting if I can."
John smiles and rises. "It's fine. I have to stop by Sammie's room first, see if I have anything to calm her cramps, but I'll be by after." With his homework.
"It's just over hers so..." Lettie trails off with a bit of a smile. "I'll uh, I'll see ya then." She pauses, then leans up toward him with the intent to brush a kiss against his cheek.
What's the awkward lover's reunion without the awkward lover's reunion kiss? John shifts just enough for their lips to meet; and his are cold and empty, but solid.
