Ionic Bonds, Lithium Salts - V
While I know that nothing could ever top Disco Pogo, here is my humble offering for chapter 5.
“And so, we could then say that Freud’s theories - although supplemented and changed over time - gave birth to modern psychotherapy-”
It was eight o’clock in the morning and Matthew could already tell it was going to be a long day.
Correction: it had been a long time, eight full hours of it, made longer by having been mostly spent in Gilbert’s company. Oh, he’d been nice enough - like telling (ordering) Matthew to sleep when he had started nodding off during the movie - but he’d also been sadly lacking in the details. Like playing Halo on full volume while Matthew was trying to get said sleep.
Thank God there was a coffee shop nearby. Matthew had a feeling he would be visiting it quite often.
He yawned, but by some force of will managed to not put his head down on his desk and give in to the tempting idea of sleep. Because, really, given how tired and generally hungover he was, that would have meant instantly falling asleep.
“-over time, however, Freud’s psychoanalytical theory was often supplemented and reformulated by new discoveries and new scientists. Carl Jung, for example-”
Notes. He really ought to be taking notes. Only it was suddenly oh so very hard to both listen and write…and maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad if he put his head down, just for a little while. It might help with the headache, and-
“Hey! Bastard! I can’t fucking see!”
Although that didn’t help with the headache much.
“That doesn’t help, you idiot!” the angry Italian guy (AIG, perhaps?) hissed back. “Maledizione, will you just move out of the fucking way?”
Why exactly you needed to see during a lecture was beyond Matthew, but he decided not to mention that.
Instead, he muttered a quiet “sorry” and quickly shuffled his chair several inches to the right. Where, presumably, AIG would be better able to see Professor Hellen and Matthew would be able to actually rest. Well. Not rest, per se. Maybe just get into a more comfortable position, put his head down for just a moment-
“Psst! Hey!”
Or not.
“Mfft?” Matthew asked.
“Oh,” the pig-tailed girl behind him said. “You do look tired.”
“I am tired,” Matthew replied, trying hard not to let his tiredness turn into irritation. “Was there something you were going to tell me?”
“Oh! Yeah! It‘s only-” the girl said, leaning in conspiratorially close, “that my brother had Hellen once - Ancient Civ or something like that - and he told me that even if she acts like she’s all chill and hip, she makes your life a living, well, Hell if you don’t pay attention. I think he got kicked out, what, second, third week? I don’t know why it wasn’t sooner; he was making passes at her all the time. You don’t look like the kind of guy to do that, though. But anyway, you should try to keep on her good side otherwise-”
“Hey! Will you keep it the fuck down!”
“Well, excuse me, I wasn’t talking to you. And, anyway, I never realized that talking wasn’t a free action anymore-”
“ Yeah, well, it fucking is when you’re so damn loud I can’t hear what the hell’s going on-”
“Is that any way to talk to a girl? God, I’ve met a lot of real jerks in my time, but I swear, you’re quickly topping the list-”
“-dio mio, do you ever shut up? Goddamnit, I’m swear, I’m going to-”
“-going to what, huh? My big brother could beat up three of you-”
It was then, Matthew realized with a sense of dull horror, that the rest of the room had gone dead silent. And was watching them.
There were several cell phone cameras out, and they were all recording
“-will you shut the fuck up already? Dio mio, do you know how grating your whiney voice is-”
“-mature, aren’t you? I could hit you so badly right now-”
“-ah, vaffanculo! Your fucking voice is getting on my nerves-”
“-why’d you want to listen to Hellen so bad, anyway? Got a crush or something?”
Slowly - very, very slowly - Professor Hellen put down her chalk.
“- I am going to kill you, tear off your limbs one by one and burn the pieces-”
“-why? Because it’s true, huh? -”
“- stomp on the ashes, and then scatter them in the ocean-”
“That won’t,” Professor Hellen said, suddenly alarming close and smiling alarmingly friendlily, “be necessary.”
Slowly both heads looked up.
And that was when the room became completely silent.
Matthew tried to make himself as small as possible.
“Now,” Professor Hellen slowly straightened up, “as enlightening as your conversation was, I would like to once again remind you of a few of my classroom rules. Foremost among them, I would like you to note, is one about classroom discussion.”
Still that smile. That wide, amiable smile that managed to be utterly terrifying at the same time.
“Now,” she continued, “I am quite sure you are all aware of the rumors about myself and this class. I feel no need, then, to inform you of them, except perhaps to verify that I do not, contrary to legend, eat puppies. As it is, I give one warning only.”
She smiled, the most sickeningly sweet and terrifying one yet.
“Consider yourselves warned.”
“Well, to be honest,” Michelle said as they walked to lunch, “it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be - I mean, she was pretty damn scary, I’ll give her that - but I was expecting her to rip us apart, you know? We got off easy, really. Though it’s nice to know she doesn’t eat puppies,” she added, pulling idly at one of her hair bows. “Are you stopping here?”
“Hm? Uh, I guess,” Matthew responded, a little startled his feet were somehow leading him towards the campus’ Starbucks. “Would you like anything?”
“Nah, that’s okay,” Michelle said, flashing a quick grin. “My brother’s invited me to lunch, so I’ve got to be going, anyway. See you around, ‘kay?”
“Uh, sure.” He waved as she left, then sighed once she was fully out of sight. He really should have worked on his social skills a little more before he came here. Eighteen years of close to no friends outside his family hadn’t done much for his skill in social interactions.
Oh well.
Matthew opened the Starbucks’ door and stood there in the doorway for a moment, inhaling the rich scent of coffee and pastries-
“Chigi! There are people waiting here, or are you fucking blind?!”
Oh God no.
He tried to be unobtrusive as he walked in, he really did, but for once in his life, obtrusiveness was not favoring Matthew Williams.
“Hey,” Angry Italian Guy, also known as Lovino Vargas, growled while narrowing his dark amber eyes, “you’re that bastardo from Hellen’s, aren’t you?”
Matthew looked at his shoes, and tried very hard to blend into the wall.
“Look the fuck at me when I’m talking to you, jackass! Fuck, do you know how much I paid for that class?! I swear, if I get kicked out and it’s all your fucking fault, then I am going to rip both you and that Michelle bitch apart, piece. By. Fucking. Piece.”
Matthew concentrated very, very hard on his shoes.
“Hey,” a voice said, not so very far off and softly feminine, “that’s not a very nice thing to say, now is it?”
“Yeah? And what the fuck do you care?”
“Quite a bit,” the girl said, slowly standing up, coffee in hand. “By principle, I really don’t like assholes. So if I were you, I’d stop being one.”
“Are you trying to piss me off? Because if you are -”
“I’m not,” the girl interrupted, serenely walking towards him. “But if I were,” she said, sipping her coffee as she stood right in front of AIG (looking frighteningly small, frighteningly slight), “I’d do something,” and suddenly she was all quick motion, tossing off the lid of her coffee and grabbing a hold of AIG in one fluid action, “like this,” she continued, reaching up and dumping the drink on the spluttering boy’s head, “hm?”
“You - you bitch-”
“I don’t approve of language either,” the girl said, narrowing her eyes, “so if you-”
“Fuck you.”
“I guess not,” she said, sighing, and then suddenly let go of his arm so hard that he stumbled backward - but not for long, because in the next moment, she had pushed him roughly towards the door so that he fell against the door, bells tinkling as he sat there, staring up at her. “Just be glad I had iced this time. Now get out.”
He stared at her, stared at her with wide, wide eyes, ice and coffee dripping down his shirt.
She tsked, and turned towards the barista.
“May I have another coffee?”
And he was gone at that, up and gone in a tinkling of bells.
Very slowly, the girl walked over and gently closed the door.
“Are you okay?” she asked, turning to Matthew.
“U-Uh, yeah, I’m fine.”
“Good,” she said, and smiled; a warm smile, a real smile. “Would you like to join me for a coffee, then?”
“Um -”
“Make that two coffees, John,” the girl said, turning to the barista again. “Strong, with plenty of cream.”
“Iced or hot, Joan?”
“Iced or hot?” Joan asked, turning to Matthew.
“Um, hot, I guess.”
“Two hot coffees, then. Hazelnut for mine, and your best brew for- oh, I‘m sorry, I almost forgot to ask. I’m Joan. And you are?”
“M-Matthew. Matthew Williams.”
“Well, Matthew, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to NYU. I promise you,” Joan pointed to the door, “we’re not all like that. Two pieces of coffee cake, too. No, I’ll pay,” she said, gently holding out a hand to stop Matthew from reaching for his wallet. “My treat. Thanks, John.”
“There’re a few seats by the window,” John gestured inwards as he handed her the coffees and pastries. “They look pretty comfy.”
“Come on, then,” Joan said, walking towards them. “Let’s sit down.”
Hesitantly, Matthew followed her to the tables. He accepted the coffee and cake with a soft murmur of thanks, still feeling a bit strange about letting Joan pay.
“So,” Joan started, tearing open a sugar packet and stirring its contents into her coffee, “you’re a freshman, I take it?”
Matthew nodded and took a cautious sip of his coffee. It was hot, but not scalding, and smoothly bitter; good coffee, though at this point Matthew would have taken anything with caffeine in it.
“Yeah,” Joan said, absentmindedly stirring cream into her coffee. “That can be pretty rough. There’re the classes, of course, but it’s people that can be the worst - not that there aren’t jerks at all levels, but it always seems worst when you’re new here. They leave you alone, after a while. Or at least,” she added, smiling behind her coffee, “they did for me.”
She paused and after a moment, sipped her coffee slowly before grimacing and reaching for more sugar.
“Anyways,” She continued, delicately tearing open another sugar packet, “how’s life so far? Classes okay, people fine?”
“Well, pretty much, yeah,” Matthew replied, drinking his coffee with a little more gusto now. “Most people have been pretty nice, actually.”
“That’s good to hear.” Joan smiled, and Matthew couldn’t help but smile back, just a little. “Roommate treating you well, too?”
“Oh, my roommate? Yeah, Gilbert’s been really nice -”
“Wait a moment,” Joan said, holding up a hand in shock, “that can’t - you can’t mean - not Gilbert Beilschmidt?”
“Um, yeah,” Matthew said, a little taken aback by her reaction. “I mean, he really is pretty nice -”
“Nice? Nice? Gilbert Beilschmidt - oh, God, you’re not him, are you?”
“Who?”
“That poor kid I heard about the other day- the one Bonnefoy and Carriedo were trying to abduct-”
“Well, that wasn’t exactly how it happened, but-”
“ Oh God, you are, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”
“Well, I guess, but it wasn’t that bad, not really - they’re nice people, once you get to know them.”
Joan stared at him. Stared at him then, for a long, long time.
Very slowly, she put down her coffee.
“Oh you poor, poor thing,” she said. “You’ve been Trio-ed, too, haven’t you?”
“What?”
“Trio-ed,” Joan repeated, interlocking her fingers and placing them beneath her chin, “the past form of the verb trio, meaning to be sucked into the world of the Bad Touch.”
“The Bad Touch?”
“The Bad Touch Trio. Carriedo, Bonnefoy, and Beilschmidt,” she elaborated, seeing the blank look on Matthew’s face. “That’s what they’re known around campus as. The Trio part’s because it‘s so hard to find one without the other two, the Bad Touch part because anyone who comes in contact with them is in for trouble. And you, you poor, poor thing - not only have they decided to take you on, you’re stuck rooming with one of them-”
“Gilbert’s not that bad.”
“Ah, but that’s the thing,” Joan tsked, waving her fork in the air, “the thing that makes the Trio so dangerous. They seem charming. They seem nice. But sooner or later,” she said, bringing the fork down into her coffee cake, “you find out that they’re nothing but trouble. If I were you,” she said, bringing the coffee cake to her mouth, “I‘d request a new roommate. And soon. ”
She paused and then put her fork down as she slowly chewed.
Matthew thought about that. He thought about last night - about all the laws he’d broken in the space of a few hours, all the things he’d seen and really hadn’t wanted to. He thought this morning, the horrible headache he’d had from too much alcohol and noise and too little sleep. He thought about this, and let himself imagine, for a moment, that this was what his entire college experience was going to be like.
And then he thought of the alternative. Of high school.
“You should do it soon,” Joan said, watching his face with sharp eyes. “Very soon.”
“I should,” Matthew said, slowly swirling his coffee, “but, well, I don’t think I can. Um.” Pause. “Will.”
Joan reached for her coffee.
“Oh dear,” she sighed, “you really do have it bad, don’t you? And you seem like such a nice kid, too. You shouldn‘t be hanging around them, you know.”
“I know,” Matthew responded, smiling as he quietly stood up, “but who else do I have to hang out with? Thanks for the coffee,” he said, reaching in his pocket.
“No, keep your money,” Joan said, holding a hand up in protest. “My treat, really. And take the cake. I can’t finish two pieces all by myself.”
So Matthew did, thanking Joan as he did, before walking out into the sunny afternoon air.
A/N: Poor Lovino…I know he wasn’t exactly the best behaved character in this chapter, but I feel so sorry for him. He really gets the short end of the stick here…
There will be no translation notes for this chapter because Lovino’s dirty mouth needs no translation.
Also, Michelle = Seychelles, Professor Hellen = Ancient Greece, and Joan = Joan of Arc
“And so, we could then say that Freud’s theories - although supplemented and changed over time - gave birth to modern psychotherapy-”
It was eight o’clock in the morning and Matthew could already tell it was going to be a long day.
Correction: it had been a long time, eight full hours of it, made longer by having been mostly spent in Gilbert’s company. Oh, he’d been nice enough - like telling (ordering) Matthew to sleep when he had started nodding off during the movie - but he’d also been sadly lacking in the details. Like playing Halo on full volume while Matthew was trying to get said sleep.
Thank God there was a coffee shop nearby. Matthew had a feeling he would be visiting it quite often.
He yawned, but by some force of will managed to not put his head down on his desk and give in to the tempting idea of sleep. Because, really, given how tired and generally hungover he was, that would have meant instantly falling asleep.
“-over time, however, Freud’s psychoanalytical theory was often supplemented and reformulated by new discoveries and new scientists. Carl Jung, for example-”
Notes. He really ought to be taking notes. Only it was suddenly oh so very hard to both listen and write…and maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad if he put his head down, just for a little while. It might help with the headache, and-
“Hey! Bastard! I can’t fucking see!”
Although that didn’t help with the headache much.
“That doesn’t help, you idiot!” the angry Italian guy (AIG, perhaps?) hissed back. “Maledizione, will you just move out of the fucking way?”
Why exactly you needed to see during a lecture was beyond Matthew, but he decided not to mention that.
Instead, he muttered a quiet “sorry” and quickly shuffled his chair several inches to the right. Where, presumably, AIG would be better able to see Professor Hellen and Matthew would be able to actually rest. Well. Not rest, per se. Maybe just get into a more comfortable position, put his head down for just a moment-
“Psst! Hey!”
Or not.
“Mfft?” Matthew asked.
“Oh,” the pig-tailed girl behind him said. “You do look tired.”
“I am tired,” Matthew replied, trying hard not to let his tiredness turn into irritation. “Was there something you were going to tell me?”
“Oh! Yeah! It‘s only-” the girl said, leaning in conspiratorially close, “that my brother had Hellen once - Ancient Civ or something like that - and he told me that even if she acts like she’s all chill and hip, she makes your life a living, well, Hell if you don’t pay attention. I think he got kicked out, what, second, third week? I don’t know why it wasn’t sooner; he was making passes at her all the time. You don’t look like the kind of guy to do that, though. But anyway, you should try to keep on her good side otherwise-”
“Hey! Will you keep it the fuck down!”
“Well, excuse me, I wasn’t talking to you. And, anyway, I never realized that talking wasn’t a free action anymore-”
“ Yeah, well, it fucking is when you’re so damn loud I can’t hear what the hell’s going on-”
“Is that any way to talk to a girl? God, I’ve met a lot of real jerks in my time, but I swear, you’re quickly topping the list-”
“-dio mio, do you ever shut up? Goddamnit, I’m swear, I’m going to-”
“-going to what, huh? My big brother could beat up three of you-”
It was then, Matthew realized with a sense of dull horror, that the rest of the room had gone dead silent. And was watching them.
There were several cell phone cameras out, and they were all recording
“-will you shut the fuck up already? Dio mio, do you know how grating your whiney voice is-”
“-mature, aren’t you? I could hit you so badly right now-”
“-ah, vaffanculo! Your fucking voice is getting on my nerves-”
“-why’d you want to listen to Hellen so bad, anyway? Got a crush or something?”
Slowly - very, very slowly - Professor Hellen put down her chalk.
“- I am going to kill you, tear off your limbs one by one and burn the pieces-”
“-why? Because it’s true, huh? -”
“- stomp on the ashes, and then scatter them in the ocean-”
“That won’t,” Professor Hellen said, suddenly alarming close and smiling alarmingly friendlily, “be necessary.”
Slowly both heads looked up.
And that was when the room became completely silent.
Matthew tried to make himself as small as possible.
“Now,” Professor Hellen slowly straightened up, “as enlightening as your conversation was, I would like to once again remind you of a few of my classroom rules. Foremost among them, I would like you to note, is one about classroom discussion.”
Still that smile. That wide, amiable smile that managed to be utterly terrifying at the same time.
“Now,” she continued, “I am quite sure you are all aware of the rumors about myself and this class. I feel no need, then, to inform you of them, except perhaps to verify that I do not, contrary to legend, eat puppies. As it is, I give one warning only.”
She smiled, the most sickeningly sweet and terrifying one yet.
“Consider yourselves warned.”
“Well, to be honest,” Michelle said as they walked to lunch, “it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be - I mean, she was pretty damn scary, I’ll give her that - but I was expecting her to rip us apart, you know? We got off easy, really. Though it’s nice to know she doesn’t eat puppies,” she added, pulling idly at one of her hair bows. “Are you stopping here?”
“Hm? Uh, I guess,” Matthew responded, a little startled his feet were somehow leading him towards the campus’ Starbucks. “Would you like anything?”
“Nah, that’s okay,” Michelle said, flashing a quick grin. “My brother’s invited me to lunch, so I’ve got to be going, anyway. See you around, ‘kay?”
“Uh, sure.” He waved as she left, then sighed once she was fully out of sight. He really should have worked on his social skills a little more before he came here. Eighteen years of close to no friends outside his family hadn’t done much for his skill in social interactions.
Oh well.
Matthew opened the Starbucks’ door and stood there in the doorway for a moment, inhaling the rich scent of coffee and pastries-
“Chigi! There are people waiting here, or are you fucking blind?!”
Oh God no.
He tried to be unobtrusive as he walked in, he really did, but for once in his life, obtrusiveness was not favoring Matthew Williams.
“Hey,” Angry Italian Guy, also known as Lovino Vargas, growled while narrowing his dark amber eyes, “you’re that bastardo from Hellen’s, aren’t you?”
Matthew looked at his shoes, and tried very hard to blend into the wall.
“Look the fuck at me when I’m talking to you, jackass! Fuck, do you know how much I paid for that class?! I swear, if I get kicked out and it’s all your fucking fault, then I am going to rip both you and that Michelle bitch apart, piece. By. Fucking. Piece.”
Matthew concentrated very, very hard on his shoes.
“Hey,” a voice said, not so very far off and softly feminine, “that’s not a very nice thing to say, now is it?”
“Yeah? And what the fuck do you care?”
“Quite a bit,” the girl said, slowly standing up, coffee in hand. “By principle, I really don’t like assholes. So if I were you, I’d stop being one.”
“Are you trying to piss me off? Because if you are -”
“I’m not,” the girl interrupted, serenely walking towards him. “But if I were,” she said, sipping her coffee as she stood right in front of AIG (looking frighteningly small, frighteningly slight), “I’d do something,” and suddenly she was all quick motion, tossing off the lid of her coffee and grabbing a hold of AIG in one fluid action, “like this,” she continued, reaching up and dumping the drink on the spluttering boy’s head, “hm?”
“You - you bitch-”
“I don’t approve of language either,” the girl said, narrowing her eyes, “so if you-”
“Fuck you.”
“I guess not,” she said, sighing, and then suddenly let go of his arm so hard that he stumbled backward - but not for long, because in the next moment, she had pushed him roughly towards the door so that he fell against the door, bells tinkling as he sat there, staring up at her. “Just be glad I had iced this time. Now get out.”
He stared at her, stared at her with wide, wide eyes, ice and coffee dripping down his shirt.
She tsked, and turned towards the barista.
“May I have another coffee?”
And he was gone at that, up and gone in a tinkling of bells.
Very slowly, the girl walked over and gently closed the door.
“Are you okay?” she asked, turning to Matthew.
“U-Uh, yeah, I’m fine.”
“Good,” she said, and smiled; a warm smile, a real smile. “Would you like to join me for a coffee, then?”
“Um -”
“Make that two coffees, John,” the girl said, turning to the barista again. “Strong, with plenty of cream.”
“Iced or hot, Joan?”
“Iced or hot?” Joan asked, turning to Matthew.
“Um, hot, I guess.”
“Two hot coffees, then. Hazelnut for mine, and your best brew for- oh, I‘m sorry, I almost forgot to ask. I’m Joan. And you are?”
“M-Matthew. Matthew Williams.”
“Well, Matthew, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to NYU. I promise you,” Joan pointed to the door, “we’re not all like that. Two pieces of coffee cake, too. No, I’ll pay,” she said, gently holding out a hand to stop Matthew from reaching for his wallet. “My treat. Thanks, John.”
“There’re a few seats by the window,” John gestured inwards as he handed her the coffees and pastries. “They look pretty comfy.”
“Come on, then,” Joan said, walking towards them. “Let’s sit down.”
Hesitantly, Matthew followed her to the tables. He accepted the coffee and cake with a soft murmur of thanks, still feeling a bit strange about letting Joan pay.
“So,” Joan started, tearing open a sugar packet and stirring its contents into her coffee, “you’re a freshman, I take it?”
Matthew nodded and took a cautious sip of his coffee. It was hot, but not scalding, and smoothly bitter; good coffee, though at this point Matthew would have taken anything with caffeine in it.
“Yeah,” Joan said, absentmindedly stirring cream into her coffee. “That can be pretty rough. There’re the classes, of course, but it’s people that can be the worst - not that there aren’t jerks at all levels, but it always seems worst when you’re new here. They leave you alone, after a while. Or at least,” she added, smiling behind her coffee, “they did for me.”
She paused and after a moment, sipped her coffee slowly before grimacing and reaching for more sugar.
“Anyways,” She continued, delicately tearing open another sugar packet, “how’s life so far? Classes okay, people fine?”
“Well, pretty much, yeah,” Matthew replied, drinking his coffee with a little more gusto now. “Most people have been pretty nice, actually.”
“That’s good to hear.” Joan smiled, and Matthew couldn’t help but smile back, just a little. “Roommate treating you well, too?”
“Oh, my roommate? Yeah, Gilbert’s been really nice -”
“Wait a moment,” Joan said, holding up a hand in shock, “that can’t - you can’t mean - not Gilbert Beilschmidt?”
“Um, yeah,” Matthew said, a little taken aback by her reaction. “I mean, he really is pretty nice -”
“Nice? Nice? Gilbert Beilschmidt - oh, God, you’re not him, are you?”
“Who?”
“That poor kid I heard about the other day- the one Bonnefoy and Carriedo were trying to abduct-”
“Well, that wasn’t exactly how it happened, but-”
“ Oh God, you are, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”
“Well, I guess, but it wasn’t that bad, not really - they’re nice people, once you get to know them.”
Joan stared at him. Stared at him then, for a long, long time.
Very slowly, she put down her coffee.
“Oh you poor, poor thing,” she said. “You’ve been Trio-ed, too, haven’t you?”
“What?”
“Trio-ed,” Joan repeated, interlocking her fingers and placing them beneath her chin, “the past form of the verb trio, meaning to be sucked into the world of the Bad Touch.”
“The Bad Touch?”
“The Bad Touch Trio. Carriedo, Bonnefoy, and Beilschmidt,” she elaborated, seeing the blank look on Matthew’s face. “That’s what they’re known around campus as. The Trio part’s because it‘s so hard to find one without the other two, the Bad Touch part because anyone who comes in contact with them is in for trouble. And you, you poor, poor thing - not only have they decided to take you on, you’re stuck rooming with one of them-”
“Gilbert’s not that bad.”
“Ah, but that’s the thing,” Joan tsked, waving her fork in the air, “the thing that makes the Trio so dangerous. They seem charming. They seem nice. But sooner or later,” she said, bringing the fork down into her coffee cake, “you find out that they’re nothing but trouble. If I were you,” she said, bringing the coffee cake to her mouth, “I‘d request a new roommate. And soon. ”
She paused and then put her fork down as she slowly chewed.
Matthew thought about that. He thought about last night - about all the laws he’d broken in the space of a few hours, all the things he’d seen and really hadn’t wanted to. He thought this morning, the horrible headache he’d had from too much alcohol and noise and too little sleep. He thought about this, and let himself imagine, for a moment, that this was what his entire college experience was going to be like.
And then he thought of the alternative. Of high school.
“You should do it soon,” Joan said, watching his face with sharp eyes. “Very soon.”
“I should,” Matthew said, slowly swirling his coffee, “but, well, I don’t think I can. Um.” Pause. “Will.”
Joan reached for her coffee.
“Oh dear,” she sighed, “you really do have it bad, don’t you? And you seem like such a nice kid, too. You shouldn‘t be hanging around them, you know.”
“I know,” Matthew responded, smiling as he quietly stood up, “but who else do I have to hang out with? Thanks for the coffee,” he said, reaching in his pocket.
“No, keep your money,” Joan said, holding a hand up in protest. “My treat, really. And take the cake. I can’t finish two pieces all by myself.”
So Matthew did, thanking Joan as he did, before walking out into the sunny afternoon air.
A/N: Poor Lovino…I know he wasn’t exactly the best behaved character in this chapter, but I feel so sorry for him. He really gets the short end of the stick here…
There will be no translation notes for this chapter because Lovino’s dirty mouth needs no translation.
Also, Michelle = Seychelles, Professor Hellen = Ancient Greece, and Joan = Joan of Arc