fandomhigh | Lunch - Monday 6/11

Mmmm, free socialist-program food! Turtle got some of all but the culeslew and found herself a seat.

Sandwiches! John was in heaven, grabbing a couple BLT's and brownies and sitting down to eat.

Turtle told herself not to look at John or even acknowledge him, really, but she couldn't help it. The notes from radio last week had said that Annette had said that John had been involved in the great braid extraction caper. But how much could anything Annette said be taken as truth? How much could any of what the squirrels said be taken for truth?

In pondering and considering John as accomplice, Turtle completely failed to not look at or acknowledge him, her eyes falling on him calculatingly as she chewed her sundveech.

John was feeling incredible pangs of guilt just seeing Turtle sitting there watching him. He looked directly at her and gave her an apologetic smile and head tilt, wondering if she would kick him very hard if he came over to her table.

Oh, crap! Turtle sharply turned away and focused on her seled when she realized that John had spotted her looking at him. Maybe if she pretended like, man, this was one interesting seled, he'd forget about the fact that she was staring at him.

John finished his sandwich quickly when he saw Turtle look away. He approached her table warily. "Uh, hi Turtle," he said, trying to catch her eye away from the salad which she seemed to find amazingly interesting.

It was totally interesting! Just look at that lettuce, that cheese, the little bits of tomato. Truly fascinating, yes.

She poked at it with a fork as she responded with a quiet, "Um, hey, John." Managed to look up for a second without looking down; she still couldn't believe that what the notes said were true. Why would he even do a thing like that? He wasn't even on her list of possible suspects... "What's up? Flag football goin' okay?"

Turtle had been staring at him. She knew he had helped Annette, right? John was confused. "Uh, flag football's great. My team is really good."

He paused uncomfortably, not knowing how to start this type of apology. "Listen Turtle, somehow I got mixed up in this rivalry between you and Annette and I just want to apologize for helping her cut off your braid. It was wrong and I feel horrible about it and I understand if you don't want to talk to me again or if you want to kick me or whatever. I'm just really sorry." He kinda blurted it all out in one breath.

Turtle's hand thunked on the table and she sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. Dang it! He had been involved. And he couldn't just sit there and act like nothing ever happened like she was trying to do, so now she had to be all mad and hate him or start crying again and she didn't want to do any of those things, but here she didn't have a choice anymore.

"Jo-ohn!" she whimpered, looking up at him desperately. Way to ruin it, jerkface!

"I know!" he whined, crumpling down into a chair and burying his face in his hands. "I'm such an ass! I was so mad that you kicked me, and it hurt so much, and then Annette talked me into it and I'm just... I just... I"m sorry."

He looked up, "Do you think we can still be friends?"

"Technically, probably no!" Turtle whimpered, because she wanted to be friends with John, she liked John, but he...he... Her hands flailed in front of her a little. "You really did it because I kicked you? I didn't even really mean to, it was a knee-jerk reation! It's like...when you go to the doctors and he does that think with the little hammer on your knee that makes you kick. Well, my braid was like that little hammer when you pulled it! Not...not like it's ever going to be a problem anymore because that little hammer is go-one and you were involved...!" More flailing.

"I can't believe she talked you into it! She didn't even have the guts to do it herself!"

John's guilt soared to new extremes when Turtle flailed. "It hurt really bad! I even had a limp because of that kick," he muttered sadly.

"I don't know how I let her talk me into it. Especially since she blamed the whole thing on me later. But none of that matters. I have to take responsiblity for my actions. What can I do to make it up to you, Turtle?"

"Stop being so nice!" Turtle whimpered some more. "I can't hate you if you're nice to me! Uggghhh..." Elbow on the table, Turtle slumped with her chin in her hand. "S'not even really your fault. Annette's the kinda person who just gets what she wants. If she wants to ruin someone else's life by chopping off her braid, what do you know, she gets it. Just the way things work...It's okay, John. I'm not mad at you..."

Too disheartened to be mad, really. "I'm sorry for kicking you, anyway. That wasn't really nice, and I shouldn't have done it, an' don't worry, no more kicking from me unless someone really, really really deserves it, which you didn't..." She stabbed her fork into a tomato, face scrunching up to keep from crying. "S'not your fault I was being stupid and childish over something like that..."

Even if it had meant just about everything to her...Not that it mattered anymore...

John didn't believe that Turtle wasn't mad at him. "Thanks for not hating me over this. But there has to be something I can do to make it even the tiniest bit easier for you to get over the loss of your braid. Though, I really do think your hair looks very pretty now."

"Yeah, everyone keeps saying that..." Really not helping with the attempts not to cry. "Guess I should actually go thank Annette now, or whatever....showing me the way and making it so I'm not stupid, ugly Turtle with the braid who kicks anymore; instead, great, everyone talks about how pretty my stupid hair looks now. Fantastic. Thanks, Annette. For all your traumatic make-over brilliance." She finally bit into the tomato, and regretted it because her stomach was just turning now. "Can't even look in the damn mirror without having to be reminded of what she did. Don't even get why. 'Cause I kicked her a few times? She deserved it every single time, too. She's been nothing but horrible to me, I swear, since the day we met. Well, she finally won, as usual. Hope she's finally happy."

"You weren't at all ugly before," he said. "I was just trying to tell you that you still look pretty."

John felt intensely badly for Turtle. It sounded like what was going on between her and Annette was really painful. "Maybe we should get some pie sometime. I find that pie gives me a happier outlook on life."

Turtle was quiet for a moment, pondering it carefully. She wondered if John was being genuinely nice, if he was just being nice out of pity, or if Annette still wasn't finished and was trying to work up something else through John. She hoped it was the first one. And felt really bad for even thinking of the last.

"Well," she said, tentatively, finally, looking up at John, "maybe ice cream? Ice cream usually does it for me..."

He really wanted them to be friends. John grinned at her positive response, "Then we should totally get ice cream! When would you like to go?"

"When's good for you?" Turtle offered. "I work all week, but I can always have Apu cover for me, or go any time afterward..."

"I could meet you at your store after work on Thursday, if that's good for you," he replied happily.

Turtle nodded a little. "Sounds great, then. Thursday, it is." She smiled briefly, for a moment, before her expression turned a little worried. "You sure it's okay, though, John?"

John was confused, "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

"Well, y'know..." Turtle shifted her shoulders a little nervously as she tried to explain. "I just...well, I mean, Annette. I wouldn't want her to get mad at you or start hating you, too, for getting ice cream with me. Y'know, the whole...fraternizing with the enemy sort of thing..."

John frowned. "You're not my enemy Turtle," he said. "And if Annette gets mad at me just for being your friend, which I don't think will happen, but if she does, she and I probably won't stay friends."

Turtle lowered her eyes. All well and good for John to claim to not be her enemy, but he had participated in the cutting of the braid, so, unless it turned out that Annette was actually a witch and put a spell on him, he'd done it by his own free will, and that kind of did make him her enemy, whether she liked it or not. But that could be changed.

"Okay," she said, looking back up. "As long as you're okay with it."

"I am. I dig ice cream," he smirked, hoping to elicit a smile.

He had managed to elicit at least a small one. "Yeah, well...I'd be really worried about you, John, if you didn't."

Lunch - Monday 6/11

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