fandomhighdorms | Second Floor Common Room; Thursday Lunchtime.

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! ]]

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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.

...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.

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

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.

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.

"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%.

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.

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

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

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

"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.

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

"W-Why bother trying t-then?"

Turtle shrugged again. "Dunno. Why not?"

"B-Because it's not like y-you," she said simply.

Turtle sighed, hesitating a little before she tilted her head a little against her shoulder, her eyes sliding toward Hinata. "No," she said, "it's not. In fact, usually, with stocks up like this, I'd be so freaking stoked that I'd probably break the couch from jumping on it so much. But today I figured out something really awful and terrible and not even record gains can make me feel better right now, Hinata..."

That got another long glance and then a moment to tuck her hands into her sleeves.

"D-Did you want to t-talk about it?"

"...I don't know," Turtle said quietly after a long moment to think about it. "I've never had to deal with anything like this before."

"Do y-you think it would d-do you good to talk about i-it?" Hinata asked, tilting her head slightly.

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.

"Do me any good?" Turtle snorted derisively. "Not likely. He's probably already made up his mind; it's just a matter of time until he gets to talking to me, and then that's it. The end. All I can do at this point is just hope that the...bloody EuroCup never ends, because then he can keep getting distracted by soccer too much to tell me."

There was a lot of anger tinging Turtle's voice, but it was all dulled by the overpowering sense of defeat lingering beneath it all.

"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.

Her eyebrows drew together. Nevermind that she had no idea at all of what the EuroCup even was...

"H-He?" she asked cautiously.

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

"Jeff," Turtle clarified. She had to choke down a lump in her throat before she could elaborate. "My boyfriend. Currently, anyway."

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Second Floor Common Room; Thursday Lunchtime.

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