Joseph Blair (joined by Jarrett Skahill)
DDR versus Frogger
Tue Oct 9, 2018 22:50

They’d gotten some assignments turned round in Cultural Studies today, and apparently he had really mucked up cos the paper on the top of his pile had a big ole letter P in stiff green ink. At seeing it, Joey had slumped down in his seat, feeling grateful that the assignments had been flown back to them with magic and at the same time right bummed, as that probably meant Aunty Estelle would just be nosing him down later. He doubted she’d arc up at him, or at least, she’d never done before - usually Dad was the only one who got pinned at the end of her glariest face. But it was still gonna stuff, hard. U g h.

Jarrett, who’d been sitting the row ahead, had spun to show off his A. Duxed grades wasn’t something he could count on his roomie for. Both lads usually landed in the middle zone (which also stuffed for Joey; RMI was harder than his old school, which he blamed on all the magic thingos that he hadn’t been able to learn much anything of before coming here, and watching his grades pull a noser wasn’t any fun). But if there was one thing he could count on Jarrett for, it was his chinnyup-ness. The brunet wouldn’t take bodgie for an answer. That was possibly cos even after a couple starts to explain, he still didn’t have a hold on what bodgie meant and turned it all around into ‘boogie’, a word that Joey didn’t hold himself.

Long crawl short, now they were set off to have a boogie outside.

...Well. To put it proper, they had been set off for outside, but it was a tad blowy and both their shoes were soaked through by the time they’d crossed the Pitch doors, made it to the shed, and turned back over.

So ‘stead they were gonna boogie inside. After poking into a couple rooms and deciding they didn’t vibe right (well again, to put it proper, Jarrett was the one making that decision, since Joey’s only opinion was a “dunno” shrug) they’d wound up at the school theatre. Both a weird spot for a shivoo, but also one that made sense. Stages were made for dancing on, ey? Padding down the aisle barefoot, soggy sneaks tied by the laces to his knapsack, Joey let out a big snort at his roomie’s claim that he’d seen frogs falling among the raindrops. “You’re mucking again,” he accused and, over Jarrett’s protests, continued, “Like, I’ve seen spider rains before, but frog rains? Nah, mate. Nick off.”

Conveniently, something slimed down his neck at that moment and Joey jumped about half his height. “Bloody dingoes, what’s on?” What was on was a frog, now bouncing wildly along the rows of seats. Joey gave Jarrett a Look and the two both dropped their bags to chase it. It got all the way to the main doors before the black-haired Ozzie managed to take the lead and snapped the orange-and-green striped hopper between his hands. Conveniently for another round, someone else came inside at that moment and Joey, who’d needed to vault over a chair in order to snap the frog, went crashing right into them. “Oof!” he grunted, eyes screwed up in pain and stars flashing in front of ‘em. “Is it corked?”

A moment’s silence, and then: Ribbit

Phew. But also, u g h. Again. He might’ve rathered be glared at by his Aunty Estelle than be whacking into randos and chasing frogs in his free time. This was probably all Jarrett’s fault for insisting they go outside first. Or even farther back, it was Jarrett’s fault for insisting on a boogie. U g h. Also owww his head hurt.

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