He’d been in the Intermediates level classes for a whole year, but Dustin didn’t seem to remember this much homework in the first few weeks back last time around. His green eyes glanced between subjects sprawled out before him on the coffee table before him. As much as he might have preferred the definitive quiet of his room (assuming Louis knew he needed it), he’d gotten a bit claustrophobic up there and had descended to the Common Room, finding a spot on the couch. And since it was empty when he arrived, he decided it would be his final destination.
With a frustrated sigh, he ran a hand through his short brown hair. It was cut much shorter than he’d been allowed as a younger boy. He was getting to be a man now, his father said, and needed a man’s haircut. Dustin couldn’t say he really minded; he definitely felt older without the shag tickling his ears and hiding his forehead. Now if he could get a little less scrawny, he would be well on his course to manhood.
The fourteen year old found it interesting how his father was still concerned about his appearance. What was the point? The Newell family name was flushed down the toilet but Uncle Nelson’s stupid choices. He should have known the family didn’t have the power to withstand that kind of scandal, not yet. They’d only been in notoriety for a handful of generations, not like these Brockerts and Careys and Pierces whose families ran back forever.
He felt his anger at his uncle well up, and combined with his anger at Makenzie for her stupid, inconveniently mopey summer and immediate disregard for societal effort and her smiles upon returning to Sonora, as well as his frustration with a particularly inane Potions question, Dustin found himself engaging in a rare outburst: he threw the textbook across the room. Far after the point of no return, he realized there was someone standing there, and all he could do was hope he missed them. Fortunately, he did, his arm too weak to chuck a textbook too terribly far, and he immediately scrambled over to recover it, much of his rage overshadowed by embarrassment. “I am so sorry,” he said nervously, his ears tinting red. “That was foolish of me. I’m just a bit…” Dustin held up the textbook tentatively. “Frustrated,” he concluded.
Another day had gone by to which he didn’t notice her. Was she doing something wrong? She hated this. She should have been confident enough to be able to talk to him, to tell him that she liked him,... more
Aislinn followed the boy, whose name she thought started with a D. That was terrible that she couldn’t state his name off the top of her head. But then it didn’t help that she didn’t pay attention to ... more