Second Floor Common Room; Thursday Lunchtime.

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

There was revenge on the horizon for Turtle Wexler, and the market had made record gains this week. Typically, as she sat curled up on the couch, watching them report on the gains on CNN, Turtle would be very pleased with herself and the world, and in a generally good mood. But her eyes on the television set were distinctly dull and down, and, above all, worried. For, alas, not even record gains in the stock market could make Turtle's mood better in light of the conclusion she had reached this morning as she thought about it over the Wall Street Journal after her workshop.

Yesterday, Jeff had said that he wanted to talk, and there hadn't been a straight answer as to whether or not it was a good talk or a bad talk. It depended on her, he said, and then wouldn't talk about it, because soc-- football was on. Needless to say, this made Turtle rather nervous.

But then she had to go and think about it, and it only got worse from there. Of course it was bad. If it was good, he would have just said it was good. But he was trying to cover that it was bad. And, in the recent weeks, there was the whole thing with the closet, and then, oh, God, that night the squirrels slipped her rum and she got drunk and tried to...and then...

Green arrows flashed across the marquee at the bottom of the screen, but they held none of their usual consolation. Not under the realization that it was crystal clear and quite obvious.

He was going to break up with her.

He. Was going to break up. With her!

You didn't dump Turtle Wexler! You couldn't!

...

...She'd be really, really ticked off about the whole thing if she wasn't so devistated.

But, hey. At least stocks were up, right?


[[ this = what happens when someone leaves the TV in the workout room on CNBC while I'm working out. Open, open, open, of course! ]]

Comments

[multi-madrox.livejournal.com]

Jamie was bored and wandering the dorms when he spotted someone in the common room.

"Hey, what's on the-"

Then he saw who it was.

And that would be Jamie running away.

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

...Turtle let out a small, displeased sound, and narrowed her eyes at the TV screen.

Shouldn't he have been at work?

That...better be a dupe. And if it wasn't...

...Turtle didn't care enough right now to determine what she might do if it wasn't, actually. Her shoulders just sagged a little more and she continued staring at the green arrows marching along the marquee.

[shyest-eyes.livejournal.com]

"G-Good afternoon, Turtle-san," Hinata said quietly, when she spotted Turtle in the common room.

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

There wasn't much of a response from Turtle. She didn't even bother looking over to see who it was, although, really, she didn't have to. "Hey," she muttered glumly, frowning at the television screen.

[shyest-eyes.livejournal.com]

That got a frown.

"A-Are you alright, Turtle-san?" Hinata asked, coming further into the room.

Well, obviously she wasn't alright, but the question still had to be asked.

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

"Stocks're up," Turtle muttered in response. "Everything's just peachy."

Although they certainly didn't sound like it. That last word even got a nice curl of her lip, half scowl, half frown, and ten percent trying not to just start crying.

Yes, that was 110%. Even in sulking, Turtle always gave 110%.

[shyest-eyes.livejournal.com]

Hinata had no idea what stocks were, not in the way that Turtle-san seemed to be talking about and that was such a terrible lie that Hinata went over and sat lightly on the couch.

Turtle-san got a sideways glance, as Hinata tried to figure out what to say.

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

And Turtle-san just kept staring numbly at the TV. Occasionally, she remembered to blink.

[shyest-eyes.livejournal.com]

"L-Lying," she said eventually, "isn't a g-good idea when you c-can't make it convincing."

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

"It wasn't all a lie," Turtle pointed out after a moment. "Stocks are up." She nodded at the television screen explaining just that.

[shyest-eyes.livejournal.com]

"A h-half truth then. It s-still isn't c-convincing." The television got a brief glance as she tried to figure out what it had to do with stocks.

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

"Wasn't trying to be," Turtle said with a slight shrug.

[shyest-eyes.livejournal.com]

"W-Why bother trying t-then?"

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

Turtle shrugged again. "Dunno. Why not?"

[gobrookeyourself]

Brooke was realizing that she hadn't actually hung out in her new common room since moving, which was why she decided to head on down. She stopped when she saw Turtle's expression, then looked at the TV. "Try turning it to the Style Network. Much less depressing, trust me," she advised.

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

"Stocks are up," Turtle pointed out, her forehead creasing in turmoil as she dully continued to stare at the screen. "That's not depressing."

And yet she was utterly and horribly devastated. Now that was a conundrum.

[gobrookeyourself]

"No, you smile when you say that," she said, but she was mostly wondering if Turtle wasn't being sarcastic. Still, the point stood.

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Turtle said, with a heavy sigh that pulled her frown in deeper. "I know..."

[gobrookeyourself]

Brooke sighed softly and took a seat, asking, "Okay. What's wrong? And does it require ice cream, because that fixes a lot of things."

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

Turtle was quiet for a moment.

"A lot of ice cream," she said. "Like, tons. Buck--"

She blinked, cutting herself off sharply. Jeff would have said buckets. Her lower lip started to tremble a bit.

[gobrookeyourself]

When Brooke saw the lower lip tremble, she immediately said, "I'll be right back," and ran into the kitchen.

Not long at all later, she reemerged carrying a modded container of ice cream and a spoon, and a couple napkins in case tissue was needed. Not that she'd ever done anything like this before or anything. "Here."

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

"...Thanks," Turtle, shifting slightly to be better positioned for the consumption of ice cream, took a look at the container first before she'd take a spoon to it. It was turtle ice cream. Oh the irony! She sniffed a little, digging in the spoon and indulging her sweet tooth a little, her eyes glumly returning to the TV screen.

[gobrookeyourself]

Brooke really was concerned, and if this were Peyton or something ther'd be hugs at the very least, but in this case there was just a quiet, "You okay?"

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

Turtle ruefully shook her head. "No," she said, and drew in a deep breath, lips pressed together doubtfully, uncertain as to whether or not she should say any more. But she had brought her ice cream. That was at least even exchange for an explanation.

"My boyfriend..." she stared, took another breath, "wants to...talk."

That last word was saturated with how dire the situation clearly was.

[gobrookeyourself]

She really understood the meaning of the word "talk". In that context, it meant nothing but bad. "Oh no," she said sympathetically. "Do you know what about? I mean, is it fixable?"