fandomhigh | BWI Portalocity Terminal [Saturday Morning]

Current Mood: anxious

Entry tags:

!event: newbie shuttle

BWI Portalocity Terminal [Saturday Morning]

Emma had flown with Angelica from Logan Airport in Boston to Baltimore so she wouldn't have to make the entire trip alone, and Angelica was grateful for that. But after a hug goodbye when the time came for Emma's flight back to Massachusetts, Angelica was alone in the lounge, waiting for the bus to Fandom High. She buried her face in a book and tried not to be too nervous about changing schools, counting out the positives. She might make new friends. Empath and Roulette wouldn't be there. She might accidentally fry someone with her microwave powers.

Oooookay, that last one wasn't too positive.

[Up early for SP! ~~Please wait for OCD!~~ The Ginger Express is now in service.]

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No, she really wasn't. "Why did you throw that at me?" Simon asked, going from staring to frowning, albeit still looking a little like he hadn't even quite grasped what had happened.

Sam glanced away. "'Cause it was funny?"

Simon blinked. Then he blinked again.

"That wasn't funny."

"It was to me," said Sam. And really, wasn't that what was important?

That shut Simon up for a moment, if only because he was now considering the dawning possibility that he might have just ended up with another bully in his life. And he'd been here for all of ten or fifteen minutes.

He smoothed his hair over his forehead. "It wasn't to me." It was quite clear he thought that mattered too, yes.

Had Sam known where his thoughts were heading, she'd've pointed out that in the grand scheme of things, one little wrapper wasn't the most bully-est bullying ever.

But she didn't, so she just shrugged. "It might be later?"

In Simon experience, most bullies started out small. However, that little statement of hers soothed his nerves just a bit. It sounded more like someone somewhat thoughtless, not someone who was actually intending to start tormenting him.

(And it was entirely possible he'd be sorry about thinking that in the first place, later, once he stopped feeling this nervous and prone to overreacting.)

Still, he had to reply, "I doubt that."

Sam rather thought that meant he didn't have much of a sense of humor.

"You should keep an open mind."

"About people throwing trash at me?"

Oh, now he was having flashbacks to Nathan used to beh-- no, actually he still behaved that way.

When he put it that way. . . .

"You'd rather I threw one with a fat cake still in it?"

That'd be a waste of fat cake.

"No." He frankly looked disgusted at the idea. Despite the following question. "What's a fat cake?"

He was clearly foreign, so Sam didn't think less of him for having to ask. "The best snack food in the world."

Simon did not look convinced. "Is it made of fat?"

It was a perfectly logical question!

"No, I eat the low-fat fat cakes."

She wasn't even making a joke, there.

"... They have those?"

Welcome to America, Simon. On the plus side, this was working like a charm in making him not think of her as a potential bully.

"Of course! You have a whole new world of snack food waiting for you here, my friend."

If there was one thing Sam could get down with, it was encouraging food consumption. As long as the person she was encouraging didn't try to take hers.

Simon wouldn't dare. "I see," he said, and maybe there was a hint of amusement in there. Somewhere. If you squinted at it the right way. "I didn't come for snacks."

Of course not. He probably came for, like, Galaxy Wars or something.

"Well, then, more for me."

He merely nodded at that, not really knowing what to say.

Well, except after a pause, "I'm Simon." Because it seemed like the right thing to do after talking to someone for a while.

Sam inclined her head in acknowledgement. He wasn't bad, for a nub, and his whole creepy wide-eyed staring thing wasn't nearly as fun as Freddie's shrieks and pouts. "Sam," she said. "Nice to meetcha."

"You too," Simon said, although with the wrapper-throwing he wasn't quite sure he was being truthful.

But it was no reason not to be polite.

Sam was already thinking of the wrapper throwing as bygones. "Where're you from?"

She was maybe not the best at identifying accents.

"England. London." And already getting used to variations of that question. "You?"

"America. Seattle," Sam answered. "But don't ask me what a Starbucks is. I've never heard of it."

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BWI Portalocity Terminal [Saturday Morning]

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