wasthecuteone | Room 511, Monday Afternoon

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Room 511, Monday Afternoon

After her class with the teachers of UST-for-great-justice, Petra had gone back to her room, missing her parents and Tiara and feeling kind of low. Since that was completely unproductive, she decided to do something. Sew something, maybe. Or, wait, she had a better idea. Like most of the world, she'd missed out on Missoni for Target, which was tragic, because Target fashion was about as far as her budget extended most of the time. But that was fine, because she was a DIY-er. She'd make her own damn scarf. And then maybe a hat and some armwarmers, too, if she got really excited.

She hauled the box containing yarn and knitting and crocheting stuff out from under her bed and settled down to make critical pattern and color combination decisions. Anyone walking by in the hallway who happened to look in would find Petra sitting on the floor, surrounded by what looked like the scene of a yarn bomb explosion and deep in thought, with this 'Lady Gaga' person Kenzi had introduced her to's music wafting at a respectful-of-her-neighbors volume from her laptop.

((Open door, open post!))

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"See, and my first suggestion before I realized we wear the same size was to go get some two-dollar flip-flops from the convenience store," Petra said. "They don't even have to be fancy shoes, but you need shoes, you know? But I was happy to loan him mine. I had others, for one thing."

"I do not get boys." Kenzi thought of Peter and Topher as well as Toby. "I hang with them, but they're still a mystery... and that was still a cool thing to do. Lots of people wouldn't. Or didn't notice." She wasn't looking at Petra. She was threading green between her thumbs in a cat's cradle. She peeked sideways at Petra. "So I owe you a solid, you know?"

"Please, you totally don't owe me anything," Petra said, rolling her eyes. "Like I said, I couldn't just let him run around barefoot."

"Well, thanks." Petra was good people. But if she didn't want to make a deal of it, Kenzi would drop it. But remember it. "I still wanna find whoever stole his shoes and dangle them out the second-floor windows. Who does that?" She made a face as the green got tangled up, and she had to stop and unknot it. "Even my family has standards."

"It was that weekend everyone was crazytown," Petra pointed out. "So they might not have, like, been themselves? But you would hope that when they came to their senses on Monday they would've given them back. Maybe they lost them or something, but then they should at least fess up."

"Hunh." Kenzi made a face. "Yeah, okay, that makes more sense of why in the first place, but you're right, I mean, the least they could do is tie them to Toby's doorknob and run now. Unless they did lose them." The yellow was off one hand, and now the green was unknotted. "You weren't crazy at all that weekend, were you? So not fair."

"No, I've been lucky so far," Petra said. "Thank God. I don't know what I would have done if...anyway. Hey, don't mess up my yarn."

"If?" Kenzi paused, getting the pink off her hand and winding it back up again. "Ohhh. Duh. I didn't even think of -- were you thinking about the weekend the girls were guys?"

"Yeah, nothing happened to me and I still kind of freaked out. Kind of at Rosella. I really need to apologize to her." Petra shrugged. "Issues. I have them. But at least I know it, right?"

Kenzi considered, then nodded. "Yeah. That's the thing. You know your issues. Other people can deal with theirs. It makes you a lot easier to deal with than the people who don't know or won't admit they have them." She shrugged and looked consideringly at the yarn. "Some of mine involve sitting still."

"You have to go to therapy," Petra said. "Not, you, you. Me. I had to go to therapy so a professional could sign off that yep, I'm trans, before I could start hormone therapy and be eligible for surgery and all. Even though I, you know, already knew it and didn't need to be told or anything. It's just a stupid regulation. Anyway. Here." She grabbed a remnant of blue yarn that probably wasn't long enough to do anything with. "Tie this in knots instead."

"Cool." Kenzi started happily braiding the yarn to itself, and then making knots. "When did you know? Or. Hmm." She frowned, winding the blue while she thought about what she was asking. "When did you know you'd need to do a whole ton of complicated and maybe-scary stuff to make the outside match the inside?"

"I think I figured that part out when I was about ten," Petra said. "So I did what anyone in my situation would do and joined a preteen boy band." This with an almost sly smile on her face. "It almost worked out great, but then our manager embezzled all our money and The Corporation replaced us with Hot Vampire Boyz. What's hot about vampires, I ask you?"

"Seriously?" Kenzi asked, incredulous. Partly that now she knew two teen pop stars. Partly at ... "Vampires. Are so 20th Century. Come on!"

Petra rolled her eyes in agreement. "I know, right? What's hot about a pasty room-temperature guy who wants to kill you? But apparently hot trolls are where it's at, now. That's why Captains Bodacious got canceled, which is a travesty of epic proportions."

Kenzi's brain tried to rear to the back of her skull. "Trolls? Like the janitor?! Ew ew ew... Wait. Captains Bodacious." She savored the words. "Would there be... leather pants, on this show?"

"There would," Petra confirmed. "And blousy open shirts, and wind-tousled hair and sexy stubble..." she sighed. "It's The Corporation's hit reality show about British boarding school boys who witness a crime and run away to become rock star pirates." So, special version of 'reality.' "It's like, TV heroin. I actually know some of the cast; they screwed up and wrecked their ship on the island we were already stranded on." Mentioning she'd dated their captain would probably be bragging.

"This sounds like my dream show," Kenzi said in tones of awe, staggered. "Wait, you know them? You were stranded on an island with hot pirates? Did I mention that I hate you?"

"It was canceled after series IV, Badder & More Bodaciouser for Trollin' on Delaware Beach. It was the worst day in television history," Petra said somberly. "And no, you hadn't. But you have a boyfriend, so." She shrugged.

"Point. But still!" Kenzi asked the important question: "Are there DVDs? And were they cool as well as hot?" She paused. "I wonder what Toby would look like in a pirate shirt..." Somewhere, his brain was probably tickling, even if he didn't know why.

"Yeeeees," Petra said slowly. She wasn't going to admit to owning them, because then Kenzi would want to borrow them and they were hers, dammit. "Or it might be online? Maybe you could get Toby to go as a pirate for Halloween!"

Smart Petra. Kenzi might not be able to resist never giving them back, no matter what she felt she owed the other girl.

"I am going to find this and download it like a mofo." Kenzi grinned, gleeful. "Oooooo. I could! I could go as a pirate wench, I have corsets! And the boots! He just needs an appropriately billowy shirt and some tight pants." She paused.

"...okay, I'm back. Ahem. So, you know what you're going as?"

"Haven't decided yet," Petra admitted. "I already did the superhero thing during the campaign, so that's out."

"And did it well," Kenzi complimented her, winding her yarn strand around her thumb to cut off the blood supply. She watched her thumb turn red and then let it loose. "And you were already Miss Delaware. Hmmm. Not vampires, obviously." She looked around the yarn and fabric. "You know it's bad when you realize you know people who you'd pretend to be on Halloween."

Petra burst into a laugh. "I know, right? Like, I can't be a pirate." Or Ladybird Hope.

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regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com - 2011-10-04 05:15 (UTC) - Expand

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