fandomhigh | Apathy Whatever, Some Classthing, Friday Afterblahblahblah, What the Fuck Do You Want, Anyway?

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Apathy Whatever, Some Classthing, Friday Afterblahblahblah, What the Fuck Do You Want, Anyway?

So. George was here. Other people were here, too. That was good. Whatever.

George was here, sitting and listening to her headphones so that she could ignore everyone. That was probably going to last until a good five to ten minutes after the club meeting was supposed to start.

And then, abruptly, she pulled the headphones off and tossed them onto the desk in front of her.

"Why can't people just leave us alone?" she asked. "Maybe I don't want to talk. Maybe it's none of your business and nobody asked you, anyway. Maybe we're fine and people should just fuck off. There. You want a topic? Why people should fuck off. And how much it sucks that they don't."

Yeah. This club was a regular beacon of sunshine. Did they really expect a cheerier topic?

And if so, why were they in Apathy Club?

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"... maybe?" George said, shrugging awkwardly. "I mean, sometimes I'm not ... good with people. And they want to ... you know. Be all talky at you."

"I'm all talky at you."

"You ... are," she said, and there was another hint of a smile. "Soooo ... why are you being talky at me?"

George excelled at conversation.

Edited 2011-02-05 01:00 (UTC)

"I'm making up for lost time." He shrugged which, with his hands being in his pockets, made him look all 'aw shucks' about it. It was almost worth an eyeroll! "And I like spending time with you and I think you should have dinner with me."

"I ..."

Way to stop George in her tracks, there. She was going to stare at him like she didn't hear that right.

"Did ... you just ask me out?"

She was not against the idea. Far from it. She was just in shock.

She had not been asked out since ... actually, she couldn't think of a time. Puck hadn't really asked her out. And Ronnie the schizophrenic had just shown up at her apartment.

"Not really appropriate for a meeting about apathy, but yeah. Tonight? We could go to the steakhouse. Unless you're a vegetarian. I'll have to switch to Plan B if you are."

"I like meat," George said quickly. "I like steak. I'd like steak. I'd like to ... have dinner with you. At the steakhouse."

Smooth, George. Very smooth.

"... Seriously?"

"Why is it so hard to believe?"

"I dunno," George said. Thus showing off her witty conversational skills once more. "I don't ... date much. Really."

It was surprising anyone could pass up her lovely charm and her winning smile. Really.

"Neither do I." Not any more. "But I want to have dinner with you and so I asked you. Seven o'clock?"

"Seven o'clock," she said. "I'll meet you there?"

Hey. A date.

Were they going to kick her out of Apathy Club, for getting a date from it?

If anyone bothered enough to try it, they'd be missing the point.

"I'll see you there." If Jack looked pleased with himself right now, that was because he was.

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Apathy Whatever, Some Classthing, Friday Afterblahblahblah, What the Fuck Do You Want, Anyway?

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