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[meatbrained]

( five + one )

how it works:

i. post a comment with the characters you play.
ii. go around and prompt other players with a 5 + 1 prompt (e.g. "Five times Hope said sorry and one time he didn't")
iii. write a fic for the prompts people leave you!
iv. enjoy your fic? we hope?

Comments

[wendigoner]

ii. five times Hannah looked up to Emily and one time she didn't.

They're in gym. It's dodgeball day, and though Hannah loves dodgeball (she loves most sports), Emily is in a sour mood at the required activity. To make matters worse, she slips as she goes in to strike the rubber ball with her foot, crashing to the ground and earning the scattered laughter of some of their classmates. She cradles the ankle, looking it over with an even darker scowl; it's bad enough that she can quit playing, but the boy playing catcher comes up to give her a hard time. "I don't even know your fucking name, prick," she growls (Hannah knows it; Hannah knows most of the guys' names in their class). The guy (Rick) rags on Emily, pulling faces and sneering. In another moment, though, he's flat on his ass - Emily had stuck out her good leg and dragged it, knocking him over to another round of appreciative laughs. After, both Rick and Emily are in trouble and are hurt, but when Hannah and Emily make brief eye contact, there's a faint, faint smile exchanged.

They're at the mall. In Sephora, to be exact. Jess is pouring over lip gloss and Beth is picking out a bottle of nail polish and Hannah... discretely asks one of the workers for advice, speaking quietly enough so that the others don't immediately bounce over and ask after what she's doing. She gets settled in the chair, has the shop girl chatting away as she applies this and that, making recommendations, and by the end, Hannah doesn't recognize herself... in the worst way. She frowns with now-painted lips, peers unhappily through too-dark eyes. The girl hadn't made her look ridiculous on purpose, but now she does look ridiculous, and she isn't sure how to remedy it so that the others don't see. It's as she sits in silence, after the salesgirl wanders off, confused, that Emily appears, to Hannah's shock and unhappiness. Still, though - Emily merely frowns, saying nothing, and then takes a makeup wipe to Hannah's face, rubbing gently enough, but removing most of the evidence of the badly-applied mess. When she steps away, there are still bits and pieces, but ones that accentuate Hannah's better features, not highlight her worse ones. Hannah thanks her on a whisper; Emily rolls her eyes, but half-smiles anyway.

Michael Munroe is dating a freckled blonde from a higher grade and they are both jealous. Emily and Hannah glare at the girl, though the former is happy to make her dislike obvious and Hannah only stares when the girl isn't looking. Emily speaks out (to Jess, to Matt) about how the bitch needs to get a clue, how she's obviously trying too hard, and Hannah merely nods fervently in silence, eyes wide. She is full of bitterness and a hatred for a stranger that is like an infection. It's finally something she and Emily can really bond over. Emily wears the feeling better.

They shouldn't, but they'd posted the highest scorers for the P-SATs on a corkboard in the hallway. About half of the grade crowded around it, hoping (mostly in vain) that they'd made it onto the list, and the other half milled around elsewhere, making snide comments and acting entirely unconcerned with the results. Hannah stands in the first group, rising to the tips of her toes to peer at the names, sighing with relief to see her own included, albeit closer to the bottom. Dark eyes rise to find the most lauded student, that enviable person at the very top, who would surely get in wherever he or she applied - it isn't a surprise to read Emily's name there. Emily herself is absent, perhaps having known already to expect this result. There are a few jealous mutters, but Hannah just stares, wide-eyed, awed. You couldn't study for these things, exactly, but Emily made it all seem effortless in her easy academic successes. Hannah swallows, gaze falling to her own name again, feeling inadequate.

The school is having a fair and the inflatable obstacle course is just too enticing to pass up. They go in pairs, scrambling through it, laughing wildly and flailing from start to finish. Josh and Sam come out the other side with Josh trying to grab at Sam's ankle to stop her from winning, and they're all nearly in tears with the absurdity of the situation. Hannah and Emily go next, moving as fast as one can in such a flimsy environment, and when Hannah makes it through the end first, she's out of breath, collapsing in the grass with a grin. Emily emerges, more put-together, shaking her head already at the defeat. "You're too good at that stuff," she sighs, brushing off her jeans (which, admittedly, had not been helpful as legwear during the attempt). "Props to you for however the hell you got through there so fast, Han." Hannah blinks, surprise, having expected a cool dismissal, but she smiles, then, appreciative. Emily rarely gave compliments, particularly after a loss, and the moment is... not soon forgotten.


Just last week, Emily had been bad-mouthing Mike for being a blind, moronic asshole. This week, they're sitting together at lunch, her ankle hooked around his, leaning in too close. Dating. Dating! Hannah watches now, alone, eyes wide and mind shut out to everything else. Sam knows too easily what's going on and tries to recapture her attention, but Hannah is fully occupied in the confusion of having so recently bonded with Emily about - about their mutual crush, she'd assumed, and now seeing the other girl having claimed her prize. She thinks: I would have done the same thing. More loudly, though, is: What a dick move. She watches them for a while, something new and ugly curdling in her stomach. Once again, Emily has, and Hannah has not. Where she would usually be meekly envious, she now feels the harsh sting of a new bitterness, worse than ever before.