Fifth Floor Common Room [evening]

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

Rilla was knitting a scarf (which she'd tell you if you enquired. Which you might. It wasn't a terribly successful scarf) and mulling over a poster she'd seen about the student council elections she'd seen oh so handwavily in the halls.

She wondered how politics worked in America and if she'd finally have to figure out the difference between a Democrat and a Republican. But for now, there was knitting.

Really bad knitting.

Comments

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Like what you would use to pass notes in?" Rilla asked, looking confused.

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

"Sort of?" George said, sounding confused. She just passed notes without bothering to fold them up. "Some of them look cute but I don't really get the point of it."

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Me either," Rilla said. "I always just wrote it out on my slate."

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

George grinned. "I just waited until the teacher wasn't looking and tossed it onto someone's desk," she said. "Most teachers don't bother to bust you, they just talk about how sad they are nobody's paying attention and sigh at you."

Please. She got plenty of disappointment from her mother. She could handle the guilt-trip from some boring fucker that taught history badly.