Kalinda finished her fruit. She needed to get ready for mimics class, but since her oack was stilk in the gym, she had few options, she didn't want to go back to the gym. So she sighed, and headed back to her room, where she changed into some clothes she sometimes slept in. Yoga pants, and a jamper with a hood. She slipped some sneakers on, let her hair down, brushing it briefly, then headed to class. She sat right at the back, moving her desk more towards a corner, in the hopes of not being noticed. She laid her head on the desk.
what was she meant to do? Maybe going home wkuld be simpler. She wouldn't have to deal with worrying about friends, if they would die because of her own foolishness.
The troubke was, she had felt more alive here then she had in a long time. She wanted to make things work here, but everything just seemed to go to hell.
Like it alwYs did. If she had been stronger maybe that guy would be alive....if she had been stronger, maybe she wouldn't have needed to siphon of some of the emotions to Ben, and then none of this would have happened. If she had only stopped being folkish earlier....
She let out a frustrated yell, and sat up, running a hand through her hair. Some of the desk around her moved a bit as her movement, and yell, made her telekinesis work out of need. She hated this. She hated being so vulnerable, and yet she would do nothing to cha ge it, because she craved fhe friendship, craved laughing, having fun, talking with others.
And now...she sighed, laid her head down again. And now she was sitting here mooping and waiting for the day to end. She just wanted a friend.
Connor nad forgotten about his lunch, falling absorbed into his sketches. He Had taken Kijanis advice to show confidence to heart. He was going to show what he was really capable all. After all, je had emailed his father about the complete proofing of Kijanis papers, and his father had said this was impossible. Which, technicslly, it was, until three days ago. He had recieved an email back just this morning, after he had sent how he had done it. His father had said he might just outshine him.
this had given Connor an even bigger reason to be happy today. He always knew his father was proud of him, but it was always nice to hear once in a while. He might one day surpass his father, and then he wouldn't merely be known as the son if Tony Stark, but Connor Stark. He wanted people to know that yes, he was the son of Tonybstark, but that he was also his own person. And so he would be.
he had just sketched several ideas as to what he could build for his classmates. Even if they didn't accept them, he woukd merely be happy to build them, and save them for later, after all, he might be able to incorporate them into his suit,
he flicked a page, started adding details to another sketch, putting in notes here and there as to what he should do, and absently chewed on a carrort.