endsthegame (
endsthegame) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2011-02-08 05:48 pm
Entry tags:
Second Floor Common Room, Tuesday Afternoon
To say that Ender was Not Amused when he came home from classes to find all of Karla's books (as well as his copy of the Complete Works of Shakespeare, his books by Nietzsche and Kant and other philosophers, and any number of biology texts) reduced to romantic drivel would be a severe understatement. His laptop was not a credible alternative because he was still trying to come up with a good way to deal with Jane, and so the only option left to Ender was to head into the common room, and at least hope there were some good documentaries on.
"Oh, you have to be kidding me," he said, when the 111th channel also turned out to be playing... something by Jane Austen? No, even that was too much to hope.
This was not his week.
[[ open! ]]
"Oh, you have to be kidding me," he said, when the 111th channel also turned out to be playing... something by Jane Austen? No, even that was too much to hope.
This was not his week.
[[ open! ]]

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Don't be so excited about that, Ben.
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Beat.
"Which could explain what the towel was doing over this guy's head."
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The mess on the cookie sheet was...well, messy. There was a thin layer of liquid covering the entire pan, with slightly bigger lumps at not-entirely-even intervals across it. Karla, however, was beaming at the sheet with pride as she slid it into the oven. "What do you think? Ten minutes on the timer?"
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"Maybe eight?" he replied. "And check on them?" He held out the book. "While we're waiting, you can read about skinny dipping in the secret grotto."
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"Should I read it aloud?" she asked, eagerly taking the book from Ben. Then, without waiting for an answer, she launched into the first full paragraph of the page. "Forest hesitantly undid the buttons on his shirt, watching the other boys frolic in the grotto. They seemed to sure of themselves, having no other thoughts than a good time in the water. So why was he so worried? His shirt hit the ground and his fingers stumbled over the fastening of his pants. Dared he? Truly? With Slate's dark eyes watching his every movement from the far side of the grotto?"
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