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The First Mistake; Open
Topic Started: May 10 2015, 11:35 PM (2,069 Views)
MurderWeasel
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((Enter BB Gunnerson))

It was always a little hard for BB to come back to school after a break, not due to school seeming harder (it didn't) or being more onerous (it wasn't) but because time off let her abandon her routines and readjusting to them took a few days. She'd woken up this morning, for example, and realized that she'd failed to pack a lunch the night before, and upon investigating the refrigerator had discovered that there wasn't anything that was tasty, filling, and portable enough to bring to school. She was thus condemned to the dubious mercies of the Cochise High School cafeteria, since she wasn't looking to blow a chunk of her Christmas money and most of her lunch hour biking around town seeking something better.

She'd been out of the classroom quickly, luckily, and since her class before lunch wasn't far from the cafeteria and had unusually let out three minutes early, she made it before the line got too long. Her mind wandered as she acquired her Styrofoam tray and saw it filled with a square of floppy pepperoni pizza, a lump of mashed potatoes and gravy, a pile of corn, and a little plastic cup of peach slices in syrup. It would be great to get the band together for lunch, but that wouldn't be a sure bet at all given that she was hanging in the cafeteria and texting them all didn't seem seem worthwhile because she wasn't about to carry the foam tray through the halls. That meant she'd probably have to entertain herself. She had a little notebook with her, one she liked to jot ideas for the band into, but today her focus wasn't great and she doubted she'd cook up much of value.

At least she was able to claim a table. It was wholly empty, and while that wouldn't last, it meant she could pick a seat at it that didn't have any mysterious pools of half-evaporated liquid or smudges of graphite just waiting to stain whatever she set on them. She faced the window and every so often a car would pass by and she'd wonder where it was headed or, if it was a decently cool car, she would imagine being inside, maybe heading to Vegas to play a gig or maybe driving out to some nowhere stage deep in the desert to do the same, because that might even be a more fitting venue.

She was peripherally aware of the cafeteria filling up, and knew that even though she'd picked one of the tables furthest to the side she would likely soon have company. It was fine. She could use something more interesting than the cars outside and the lukewarm corn she slowly chewed.
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Juliette Sargent
Alton Gerow
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MurderWeasel
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The first guy who turned up was Barry, who BB mostly knew because of his initials and how they evoked her hated name, but that wasn't his fault. So she turned away from the windows and smiled at Barry and said, "Yeah, be my guest."

And then before too long, there was Jeremy too, who was pretty cool except every so often he tended towards using the name and when he slipped up and did that he could just go get fucked. And today there was very nearly an incident, and BB let her hands slip below the table so nobody would see them balling up—because, really? A one-two of Mr. BB and Jeremy having a moment?—but he dialed it back in time and had the grace to apologize. BB brought her hands back up and took a big bite of potatoes and gravy to keep herself from frowning, because he'd at least put the effort in. The potatoes weren't bad, but that wasn't saying much since it was hard to screw up mashed potatoes without failing to mash them properly or something and BB was almost positive these came from powder in a bag. Still, the salt pushed her worries temporarily away.

"Yeah, Jeremy, have at," she said, gesturing towards one of the empty chairs.

So Jeremy and Barry were pretty okay lunch companions, she guessed, in that she had nothing really against either of them with the exception of Jeremy's tendency towards unfortunate lapses in basic fucking courtesy. He was even decently smart and into music, which won him some points. So maybe these two could be the hour's entertainment in lieu of the band.

"What brings you both here?" she asked. This was really more of a question for Jeremy because Barry was saddled with the same school-provided meal she was, but it felt better to pitch it to both of them. She nodded at her own Styrofoam tray. "I forgot my lunch," she said, before taking another bite of potatoes.
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Juliette Sargent
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MurderWeasel
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"It's alright," BB said, after Jeremy got in his say. "Edible. I've had worse."

She was half tempted to act like it was really delicious and maybe give Jeremy the old Tom Sawyer routine, not even really out of dislike for the food but because he'd gone ahead and pointed out his comparative fortune. But she bit back the impulse and bit into the pizza. No reason to go and make trouble where there was none, especially since Jeremy was still mostly on her good side for catching himself earlier.

"A little salty and a little bland besides that," she clarified. It also featured probably the lamest pepperoni she'd ever encountered, just these sad little circles of meat. It was likely the same ultra-processed pig/chicken/cow intestines that they sold at Target—the sort of meat so chemically altered it didn't even require refrigeration. But she'd eaten worse, or at least certainly worse-tasting, things. And besides, she'd worked up an appetite throughout the school day. What was a little pulverized meat product against that?

She took another bite, chewed and swallowed. It really wasn't that awful. It was like those pizzas she'd loved when she was eight, Tony's or whatever, the frozen ones her parents had always told her were only for special occasions so she'd figured they must be really expensive and then when she was a teenager and actually started paying attention in the grocery store she figured out they usually ran about three bucks. This lunch was a lot more palatable framed as a nostalgic experience.

She could still do with some external distraction, though.

"And what's new in the rest of the world?" she asked, gesturing vaguely at her lunch companions.
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Juliette Sargent
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When Jeremy took her to task in a sarcastic and roundabout manner for her phrasing, BB stopped focusing on her food. She still chewed and swallowed and was loosely aware of it, but the process was more mechanical, the taste fading into the back of her mind. When she wasn't chewing, she was smiling. There really was a lot of pretty awful stuff going on when you laid it all out like that, and it was certainly a more interesting response than the more grounded explanation of the mundane realities of school that followed, one which largely echoed the total lack of interesting things going on for Barry as well.

"Sounds like a blast," BB said. She made sure to keep her tone pretty level, something she'd worked on a lot over the years. It helped to be able to camouflage sarcasm under a layer of normalcy. She wished she wasn't here, wished she had swapped the linoleum tiles and fluorescent lights for some other environment. She could have skipped lunch and gone for a walk, but then she'd've been hungry all through her afternoon classes.

BB looked out the windows again, saw an old brown van rumbling past, assigned Vegas as its destination. It was probably big enough to carry the band and all of its equipment, if it wasn't full of junk.

"I've been planning some stuff myself lately," she said, keeping that same conversational tone. She paused for a few seconds to polish off her pizza, stuffing the last bite—which should probably have been the last two bites, really—into her mouth, then chewing it and swallowing it down a bit more quickly than was quite pleasant. She wiped her lips with the fingers of her left hand, then smiled straight at Jeremy, seeking eye contact.

"There's this, like, orgy going on this weekend outside of town that my dealer hooked me up with. He said I could bring some friends if I wanted. I think he was mostly talking about girls, but he didn't specify, so whatever." She shrugged. "Either of you interested?"
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"That's gross, Jeremy," BB said. "I'm just there with the band. Obviously."

Jerry's arrival and Barry's confusion complicated matters a little. Poking too much at their incomprehension could be kind of bitchy, even if they'd maybe deserve it if they got all unduly interested in her joke. She also really didn't want to come off like she was flirting with Jeremy because while he was okay in her book at the moment that wasn't the same as being flirting material. Maybe if he filled out that height of his a bit better—and of course there was still that lingering memory of his past slips. And then of course Jerry was a little strange and there was a chance that he'd make this whole thing weird and awkward. He'd also just point-blank asked if she was making things up, and that sort of directness was often a signal that someone wasn't quite able to catch out sarcasm, and wouldn't appreciate more of it even if they could.

All the same, she wasn't about to give Jeremy the last laugh.

"I mean," she said, "yeah, Jerry, I'm kidding. But Jeremy sounded pretty genuine to me. I mean, can't you tell he's the freaky type?"

With the baton passed, BB leaned back a bit and started on her corn. It was sort of watery. She probably should have saved some pizza to wash it down.
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Juliette Sargent
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MurderWeasel
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"Yeah," BB said to Jerry. "I'm still with the band. We've always got something going on. I'll try to let you know when our next gig is."

Well, often what was going on was just practice or composition work, which probably wasn't interesting to anyone outside the band itself (or maybe future music geeks if they ever hit the big time enough to churn out one of those massive demos and rarities box sets everyone recording in the 90s had), but nobody needed to know that. She could shoot Jerry the details of whatever event they next managed to get involved with when that time came, if he even was still interested, or she could just burn him a CDR or something. That might be the best choice—the odds were decent enough he was only expressing interest out of politeness anyways and that would spare him having to actually listen to Peyote Coyote's output and would also spare her the irritation of dealing with any excuses he came up with for no-showing.

"And nothing much else," she added to Barry and Jeremy. "I wouldn't call it a 'sarcasm fight,' though. That would imply you had a chance."

She put on her sweetest smile for Jeremy, just to keep him guessing.

Then Matt made his way over, and that kept the smile on her face. Matt was, well, exactly what he introduced himself as. BB gave him a nod and a wiggle of her her fingers in acknowledgement as he sat down. She polished off the last of her lunch as he spoke.

"Not too much going on," she said, right after swallowing the last of the peaches. She sometimes drank the syrup from the cups, but not when anybody outside the band might see her do it. "Just talking about cocks and stuff. Pretty boring, really."
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Juliette Sargent
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MurderWeasel
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"Yeah, I should be going too."

BB had finished her lunch and then sat quietly watching the others, mostly just following the conversation and judging everyone else at the table a bit—not in a mean way or anything, more sort of a pitying one—and wondering whether it was worth heading anywhere else. And then, before she knew it, enough of the period was over that it really wasn't but it was also close enough to the start of class that it wouldn't be so bad to get there early.

So she hopped onto the bandwagon and followed after Jerry, heading into the halls of Cochise. She gave a little wave at the others as she left.

"See you around."

((BB Gunnerson continued in Smoke On Her Face))
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