fandomhighdorms | Fifth Floor Common Room, Monday Evening

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Fifth Floor Common Room, Monday Evening

"Can you hand me the ginger?" Ronan asked, as he ground some spices with a mortar and pestle. "The fresh, I mean." The fragrant smells of cooking curry were already pervading the common room, and probably making their way through the rest of the dorms. When Isabel handed over the asked-for ginger, he added some to the mixture in the mortar, and went back to grinding. "Thanks. I hope this isn't too spicy for whoever else comes along," he added.

[OOC: Open, as common rooms are! Come have some curry. :D]

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Turtle frowned at Charlie a little bit. "Of course they make sense!" she said. "They're my notes, and they're very no-nonsense, like the class, helpful and to the point and, geez, maybe I should just give them to you for keeps because it's not like I'm probably going to need stuff like that in, I don't know, forever."

"Okay, that does not sound good," Charlie decided. "Because you have a boyfriend who thinks about naked things all the time, so it shouldn't be the case. And thank you? For the notes?" She took them and tried to decide if she should open them there and then. Yes. No. Yes. Nooooo....

"He doesn't think about naked things all the time," Turtle said and, while one would imagine that it would have naturally have been said defensively, it was actually said almost miserably. And not in a way to suggest that Jeff should be thinking of naked things all the time, but in a way that suggested that what Turtle wished he would be thinking more often, he wasn't.

"He isn't?" Charlie could have sworn the only other things he thought about would be phones, closets, and maybe the occasional dog attack. She peeked at the notes, then stared. "Um.... Uh." Some of them had been critiqued with 'totally gross' and 'so not happening.' She shook her head violently, and looked back at Turtle. "Okay, that doesn't make any sense. What's happened?"

Turtle sighed, wondering why she was so reluctant to tell Charlie about what had happened. Charlie was one of her best friends! And she'd been asking nearly anyone for advice...anyone she didn't really know, actually, because Charlie knew her and admitting there was a problem was like admitting she was failing at something, and Turtle Wexler hated losing more than anything in the world...She drew in a breath. She was just going to keep acting like this, so she might as well fess up and get it over with. She leaned her head back on the couch and rolled it toward Charlie. "Okay, so, you know how Jeff was, like, super emo all through radio and everything? Do you know why he was?"

"No?" Charlie admitted, holding the notebook shut with tight fingers. "I wondered if it was Parent's Weekend, but that's just because... you know. Everyone was freaked out about that."

"Not everyone," Turtle pointed out. "I mean, some of us have normal relationships with our parents. But, I mean, yeah, it's no big secret that Jeff's not among those people, and this is with good reason, don't get me wrong. I did actually meet her; within two seconds of meeting her, I'll also mention, she called me a whore..."

She paused the rant there, glancing over, because she just had to see Charlie's response to that.

Which was total gaping disbelief. "She did what? That, that, omigod, no wonder Jeff's so messed up! What the heck, Turtle? Seriously!"

"That's not even the half of it," Turtle said, rolling her eyes a little. "So, I try to be nice and polite and everything because, while the woman is clearly insane, she's still Jeff's mom, right? So this continues, nothing but yelling and shouting and finally I give up and I demand evidence, you know? 'Cause if anyone's going to call me that, they better be able to back it up with some evidence. Or at least a few theories. But no. Nothing. She couldn't back any of it up, refused to even acknowledge me when I asked for it and went back to shouting at Jeff. Which is awful for him, I know this, but...I mean, I...I honestly think it's all got to be psychological. Which I understand, I do! So, I was thinking that when the weekend was over, things would all go back to normal, but...I mean, radio was two days after the fact, and Jeff is still there getting all worked up like she was still here or something. Shouldn't he be happy and glad that she's left and that I wasn't even mad or upset that she's a crazy psychotic bitch and said all those awful things about me?"

"But nooooo. Instead, he's sitting there thinking the world is going to end because, oh my God, what if she implanted impractical spies in the walls." Turtle paused, to breath and roll her eyes again. "To the point where he can't even get over it enough for radio and he can't even see that I'm upset and...it's just...irrational and illogical and in light of it all it was practically like I just didn't even exist and it's just...how...I'm worried that maybe because of that, I can't actually...respect Jeff, and I...I don't know about being with someone I can't respect."

"Impractical spies?" Charlie repeated helplessly. "What does that even mean?" She shook her head, looking appalled. "And wow. Serious wow. I -- you know, has he ever been to see some kind of therapist, or something? Because this is just-- it's like his mom made him more crazy just by arriving, and she's crazy, and... WSheesh." Charlie wasn't sure about the respect issue, but if Jeff couldn't even pay attention enough to see that Turtle was upset, what was she supposed to do? Just wait until he got over it? What if he never did?

"I know," Turtle sighed. "It's an awful situation. I mean, she really is crazy, but I have seen it, and I really think it's all just...she says a lot, but, clearly, she never follows through on her threats and any confrontation with logic is immediately ignored. I don't exactly expect him to get past probably sixteen years of living with all that easily, of course, but...I mean, to still have her effecting him days after she's gone? I mean, look at you. You've been through some pretty crazy stuff yourself...death and everything, even, but you don't let it get to you. You're stronger than that. And I just....It's really...hard realizing that Jeff can't be a fraction as strong..."

Charlie felt herself turning bright red, and looking down at the notes in her lap, flustered, then really thinking about Jeff as she tried to put that in perspective. "Maybe? I mean, I'm on your side, you know that. And maybe he is kind of -- broken. But it's apples and oranges, the two of us. I don't have anything to be scared of, any more." She was quiet a moment. "And I always had someone who loved me and wasn't crazy. After my parents, it was my grandparents. It sounds like Jeff's had just this nasty, crazy person. And now you, as his girlfriend."

Well, that certainly had Turtle quiet for a moment, her head lowered slightly as she ran that all over in her head quietly. "But..." she said, softly, reluctantly, after a moment. "That's the problem. Of course I want to be there for Jeff, but there's a different between being able to help support them and carrying them entirely on your back. I have...a lot of things I want to accomplish, Charlie, a lot I already have. And I know I'm only fifteen, and this is something that I've really been thinking about lately, but I've made a decision that I'm not going to bother with anything that might threaten to hold me back, and if Jeff can't find it in him to stand on his own two feet better, then he's just going to drag me down..."

And now for Charlie to just think she was heartless and success-blind, but, hey. There was a reason why so many successful people died alone. Although the expression on Turtle's face showed that she was definitely not feeling heartless.

Charlie knew Turtle a little better than that. Sure, she loved success, and winning, and being smart, but... she got upset when people didn't like her, or cut off her braid, or did something stupid and mean to other people. She really really liked Jeff, and had never expected to. So Charlie wasn't going to take any of this at face value.

"I don't know," she said slowly. "I mean, I know it's been over a week since his mom left, and he hasn't snapped out of being paranoid and oblivious. And maybe he'll always be like that, a little bit. But-- maybe give him another day or two to go back to, well, normal? For Jeff, I mean. Or, or, see if he'll get it if you give him an ultimatum? Maybe that'll break through." Charlie gave Turtle a mournful look. "You're not a shrink, though. You're not wrong. I just...."

"Just what?" Turtle frowned. "Think I'm being too hard? I kinda...have to be. You don't become a teenage millionaire by being soft."

She was sounding pretty soft, though, and she sighed. "We have to do radio tomorrow night anyway, so who knows what will happen there. Will be our first time really talking to each other since last week's..."

"I know. But Jeff's... Jeff." Charlie really didn't feel like much of a writer here. "He's not going to pay off in huge dividends by getting tough with him. That's what his mom is for." She made a face at the mention of the Queen Bitka From Hell, and then said, "If it's been that long, maybe he's better now? Or getting there. And maybe he'll at least listen? You guys like doing Radio together. It's a bonding thing. It could still go okay."

"I thought we liked doing radio together," Turtle said, not so willing to ever just give up and admit anyone, even Charlie, was right. "Last week, he seemed like I was putting him through the most inhumane torture imaginable..."

"But that was only a couple days later. You can't go by that," Charlie pointed out. "And if he isn't snapping out of it in a few more days-- you can always change your mind then."

Turtle nodded a little. "You know me," she said, "I'm not exactly one to make breakneck decisions. If I do anything, it'll be well after I've collected sufficient data."

And possibly have made about a billion charts. In triplicate.

Charlie grinned. "True enough." She risked a peek at the notes again, then had to ask, "She really said that? In class?" while pointing to one particular note from the lectures from the day before.

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Fifth Floor Common Room, Monday Evening

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