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gooseberryhigh2016-09-14 01:52 pm
evercreep.insanejournal.com) wrote in gooseberryhigh2016-09-14 01:52 pm
Entry tags:
APOLOGISING
Who: Calvin Evercreech & Philippa Nightingale
When: Wednesday, September 14, sometime in the afternoon.
Where: Goosey Trail
What: Calvin works his way up to giving a well-deserved apology.
Warnings: References to bullying. Awkward children.
Status: IN PROGRESS.
When: Wednesday, September 14, sometime in the afternoon.
Where: Goosey Trail
What: Calvin works his way up to giving a well-deserved apology.
Warnings: References to bullying. Awkward children.
Status: IN PROGRESS.
Calvin knew he had made a mistake. A horrible mistake. Trying to talk to Philippa Nightingale at all was a complete lapse in judgement, but he’d done it. And now his only recourse was to talk to her again.
Calvin hurried down the stairs from the boys’ cabins, and walked with purpose to the other side of the camp. It was unfortunately very easy to find her. They lived in the same place, and he could spot her cabin from the deck of his own. Of course Nightingale was a Ribbonfin. She had been so soft back when he’d known her. She probably still was. Sweet and gentle Nightingale; the Ribbonfins wouldn’t need to struggle to accept her into their ranks. Not that they struggled that much with Calvin anymore, either. He wouldn’t last a day at Hogwarts now. He’d rank even below Nightingale.
Those were the sorts of thoughts he wasn’t supposed to have anymore. He wasn’t supposed to rank people on the social ladder, or sneer at where they fell on it. He wasn’t supposed to think that gentle heartedness was a weakness. When he managed to smother those impulses, though, he didn’t much like what was left. It was mostly a lot of awkward, bitter shame.
Which was about his mindset as he hesitated just at the bottom of the stairs to the walkways that wrapped around the girls’ cabins. He saw a flash of ginger hair, and forced himself to speak up.
“Nightingale!” He already knew she was going to ignore him. He could just imagine her flipping her little ponytail and walking past him with her head in the air. Calvin needed to say more if he wanted to make good on his promise to Regan. Something that would stop Philippa in her tracks, something that was completely unexpected: “I wanted to apologize.”
Pippa froze when she heard Calvin call out to her, and for a moment she wondered whether she should just ignore him anyway, even though it was obvious she’d heard him. It wasn’t easy hiding when you had such vibrant hair, but she’d spent the whole of her first week avoiding Calvin wherever she could -- even if that meant suddenly doubling back on herself, or darting inside the nearest open door. She was pretty sure it wasn’t the sanest reaction, but she’d started to make new friends here at Gooseberry, and she didn’t want Calvin ruining everything. What if he’d found someone as horrible as Goyle to hang around with and they started calling her all the names she’d been called at Hogwarts?
Slowly, fists bunched up in her skirt, Pippa turned around and raised her chin despite the fact that Calvin was standing below her. She’d read somewhere that it was important never to let bullies see you were afraid, and even though she felt a little like a rabbit cornered by a fox, she reminded herself that Calvin didn’t have his gang of Slytherin thugs behind him this time. Let him try to play his stupid mind games -- she wasn’t going to fall for them.
“Really,” she said, pleased her voice came out sarcastic and not shaking. “You want to apologise. For what?”
Calvin grimaced. This was already going poorly. He quickly weighed whether continuing or making a quick exit would be less humiliating, and was disappointed when logic said staying was the better option.
“”Really,” he echoed, still looking pained by the admission. “For the comment about your boat. I never meant for it to come out so harsh. I only wanted to make light of it.”
Although if he hadn’t been so foolish as to leave behind all those scribbles, he wouldn’t have needed to worry at all. And if Regan was busy enough with Quidditch and being a prefect, maybe she’d forget about Nightingale altogether. Calvin and Philippa could have gone on ignoring one another all year, pretending that they didn’t see when the other took a turn at a hallway they didn’t need to go down. But no, he just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, and now they both had to have this awful conversation which would be all Calvin apologizing while Philippa scowled down at him with her cute little face scrunched up with emotion. Someone would come along eventually and scold him for upsetting her. What if it was Ravi? What if she told him what Calvin had been like at Hogwarts???
Pippa wished someone would come along, because she didn’t know what to do. Her deep-seated mistrust of Calvin meant that she was battling her natural instinct to accept his apology. What if this was some kind of trap, or -- more likely -- a set-up for another insult? It wasn’t that she cared so much about her boat (although it had been embarrassing and disheartening to see it sink so quickly), but Calvin’s mocking comment had taken her right back to Hogwarts and all those other times he’d made fun of her. No, she definitely couldn’t trust him.
Deciding that her safest bet was to take refuge in sarcasm, Pippa rolled her eyes. “Right. Because you never mean for anything to sound harsh, do you? I’m so glad that’s the only thing you want to apologise for.”
“I never said it was the only thing,” he snapped, and then immediately caught himself. He was being ‘harsh’ again.
Calvin glanced around them restlessly, and although there was no one in sight, he felt watched. Impending judgement in olive and copper loomed on all sides. Calvin folded his arms tightly across his chest and looked back up at Philippa, who was doing her damndest to appear damning. He thought about how she would have never been so bold back at Hogwarts with Goyle by his side, and he felt strange, budding sympathy. Calvin had never been particularly brave around him either.
“Can we go somewhere to talk?” he asked, with decreasing acidity.
Pippa hesitated, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth. Calvin wasn’t a very nice person, but she didn’t really think he was the type to lure her into the woods alone to disarm and hex her. And he looked more defensive than aggressive, standing there with his arms crossed so tightly, unable to meet her eye. “Okay…” she said, descending a few steps before abruptly stopping to say, “But not for long. I have to be back to -- I promised to meet, um… there’s a study group…”
She heard herself tripping over her words and inwardly winced. She was a terrible liar, and her attempt to put herself in control of the situation had failed miserably. Now Calvin probably thought she was scared of him -- which, okay, wasn’t miles away from the truth -- so she’d likely just made things worse. Pippa scowled, her cheeks pink, and folded her arms to match Calvin’s body language as she reached the bottom of the steps, unwilling to come any closer. “What do you want to talk about, anyway?” she asked suspiciously.
Calvin took a deep breath, looked like he was going to say something, and then didn’t. He tried the same thing once more, and this time managed to form words.
“I want to talk about Hogwarts,” he said quickly, and was disappointed when the admission didn’t take any weight off his shoulders. His arms wrapped even further around his chest in a nervous knot. “We’ll have to eventually, you know,” he added, sounding more reasonable than he felt, and calmer than his body language implied. “And beyond that, there are a few things that I need to say. But I can’t have this conversation out in the middle of the camp where just anyone could come over and eavesdrop.”
There was no one around to give his claim any credence, which was frankly irritating. Not even a single freshman could be bothered to care about what Calvin was up to.
“Right, let’s get away from the hordes,” Pippa said dryly, wishing she could raise one suave eyebrow to go with her words -- but despite hours of practising in front of a mirror, that was a skill she’d never quite mastered. But she glanced sideways at Calvin, hoping her look said it all.
She didn’t see why they had to talk about Hogwarts, since ignoring their shared history had been working just fine for her, but if Calvin insisted on dragging it up then she didn’t exactly want anyone overhearing either. It was hard enough starting over at a new school and trying to fit in. The last thing she wanted was for people here to know just how low down the social order she’d ranked at Hogwarts. While logically she knew no one deserved to be bullied, Pippa could never quite shake the feeling that if she just changed -- if she was wittier, funnier, cooler -- then she wouldn’t be such a target.
Pippa set off down Goosey Trail, and shot Calvin another wary glance. “Well?”
tbc.
Calvin hurried down the stairs from the boys’ cabins, and walked with purpose to the other side of the camp. It was unfortunately very easy to find her. They lived in the same place, and he could spot her cabin from the deck of his own. Of course Nightingale was a Ribbonfin. She had been so soft back when he’d known her. She probably still was. Sweet and gentle Nightingale; the Ribbonfins wouldn’t need to struggle to accept her into their ranks. Not that they struggled that much with Calvin anymore, either. He wouldn’t last a day at Hogwarts now. He’d rank even below Nightingale.
Those were the sorts of thoughts he wasn’t supposed to have anymore. He wasn’t supposed to rank people on the social ladder, or sneer at where they fell on it. He wasn’t supposed to think that gentle heartedness was a weakness. When he managed to smother those impulses, though, he didn’t much like what was left. It was mostly a lot of awkward, bitter shame.
Which was about his mindset as he hesitated just at the bottom of the stairs to the walkways that wrapped around the girls’ cabins. He saw a flash of ginger hair, and forced himself to speak up.
“Nightingale!” He already knew she was going to ignore him. He could just imagine her flipping her little ponytail and walking past him with her head in the air. Calvin needed to say more if he wanted to make good on his promise to Regan. Something that would stop Philippa in her tracks, something that was completely unexpected: “I wanted to apologize.”
Pippa froze when she heard Calvin call out to her, and for a moment she wondered whether she should just ignore him anyway, even though it was obvious she’d heard him. It wasn’t easy hiding when you had such vibrant hair, but she’d spent the whole of her first week avoiding Calvin wherever she could -- even if that meant suddenly doubling back on herself, or darting inside the nearest open door. She was pretty sure it wasn’t the sanest reaction, but she’d started to make new friends here at Gooseberry, and she didn’t want Calvin ruining everything. What if he’d found someone as horrible as Goyle to hang around with and they started calling her all the names she’d been called at Hogwarts?
Slowly, fists bunched up in her skirt, Pippa turned around and raised her chin despite the fact that Calvin was standing below her. She’d read somewhere that it was important never to let bullies see you were afraid, and even though she felt a little like a rabbit cornered by a fox, she reminded herself that Calvin didn’t have his gang of Slytherin thugs behind him this time. Let him try to play his stupid mind games -- she wasn’t going to fall for them.
“Really,” she said, pleased her voice came out sarcastic and not shaking. “You want to apologise. For what?”
Calvin grimaced. This was already going poorly. He quickly weighed whether continuing or making a quick exit would be less humiliating, and was disappointed when logic said staying was the better option.
“”Really,” he echoed, still looking pained by the admission. “For the comment about your boat. I never meant for it to come out so harsh. I only wanted to make light of it.”
Although if he hadn’t been so foolish as to leave behind all those scribbles, he wouldn’t have needed to worry at all. And if Regan was busy enough with Quidditch and being a prefect, maybe she’d forget about Nightingale altogether. Calvin and Philippa could have gone on ignoring one another all year, pretending that they didn’t see when the other took a turn at a hallway they didn’t need to go down. But no, he just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, and now they both had to have this awful conversation which would be all Calvin apologizing while Philippa scowled down at him with her cute little face scrunched up with emotion. Someone would come along eventually and scold him for upsetting her. What if it was Ravi? What if she told him what Calvin had been like at Hogwarts???
Pippa wished someone would come along, because she didn’t know what to do. Her deep-seated mistrust of Calvin meant that she was battling her natural instinct to accept his apology. What if this was some kind of trap, or -- more likely -- a set-up for another insult? It wasn’t that she cared so much about her boat (although it had been embarrassing and disheartening to see it sink so quickly), but Calvin’s mocking comment had taken her right back to Hogwarts and all those other times he’d made fun of her. No, she definitely couldn’t trust him.
Deciding that her safest bet was to take refuge in sarcasm, Pippa rolled her eyes. “Right. Because you never mean for anything to sound harsh, do you? I’m so glad that’s the only thing you want to apologise for.”
“I never said it was the only thing,” he snapped, and then immediately caught himself. He was being ‘harsh’ again.
Calvin glanced around them restlessly, and although there was no one in sight, he felt watched. Impending judgement in olive and copper loomed on all sides. Calvin folded his arms tightly across his chest and looked back up at Philippa, who was doing her damndest to appear damning. He thought about how she would have never been so bold back at Hogwarts with Goyle by his side, and he felt strange, budding sympathy. Calvin had never been particularly brave around him either.
“Can we go somewhere to talk?” he asked, with decreasing acidity.
Pippa hesitated, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth. Calvin wasn’t a very nice person, but she didn’t really think he was the type to lure her into the woods alone to disarm and hex her. And he looked more defensive than aggressive, standing there with his arms crossed so tightly, unable to meet her eye. “Okay…” she said, descending a few steps before abruptly stopping to say, “But not for long. I have to be back to -- I promised to meet, um… there’s a study group…”
She heard herself tripping over her words and inwardly winced. She was a terrible liar, and her attempt to put herself in control of the situation had failed miserably. Now Calvin probably thought she was scared of him -- which, okay, wasn’t miles away from the truth -- so she’d likely just made things worse. Pippa scowled, her cheeks pink, and folded her arms to match Calvin’s body language as she reached the bottom of the steps, unwilling to come any closer. “What do you want to talk about, anyway?” she asked suspiciously.
Calvin took a deep breath, looked like he was going to say something, and then didn’t. He tried the same thing once more, and this time managed to form words.
“I want to talk about Hogwarts,” he said quickly, and was disappointed when the admission didn’t take any weight off his shoulders. His arms wrapped even further around his chest in a nervous knot. “We’ll have to eventually, you know,” he added, sounding more reasonable than he felt, and calmer than his body language implied. “And beyond that, there are a few things that I need to say. But I can’t have this conversation out in the middle of the camp where just anyone could come over and eavesdrop.”
There was no one around to give his claim any credence, which was frankly irritating. Not even a single freshman could be bothered to care about what Calvin was up to.
“Right, let’s get away from the hordes,” Pippa said dryly, wishing she could raise one suave eyebrow to go with her words -- but despite hours of practising in front of a mirror, that was a skill she’d never quite mastered. But she glanced sideways at Calvin, hoping her look said it all.
She didn’t see why they had to talk about Hogwarts, since ignoring their shared history had been working just fine for her, but if Calvin insisted on dragging it up then she didn’t exactly want anyone overhearing either. It was hard enough starting over at a new school and trying to fit in. The last thing she wanted was for people here to know just how low down the social order she’d ranked at Hogwarts. While logically she knew no one deserved to be bullied, Pippa could never quite shake the feeling that if she just changed -- if she was wittier, funnier, cooler -- then she wouldn’t be such a target.
Pippa set off down Goosey Trail, and shot Calvin another wary glance. “Well?”
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