Confusing

Writers: Miriah, Yvonne
Date Posted: 12th February 2014

Characters: J'ackt, Alina
Description: Jenackt gets some help with homework
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 5, day 16 of Turn 7

J'ackt

Alina

It was well into the evening when Alina returned to the dining cavern from her walk. She strolled over to the sideboard and picked out a pair of apples, biting into one and slipping the second into her pocket as she turned to survey the room. There was nobody there she knew, though, so with a sigh of disappointment, she turned to go.

Only there _was_ someone she knew. Jenackt, hunched over a pile of hides in the far corner where the light was dimmest. Briefly she considered leaving, but her curiosity got the better of her and she made her way over. Was the Holdless boy writing letters? And whoever would he be able to write a letter to? When she got closer, though, she could make out the homework that the Weyrlingstaff had assigned them that afternoon, due first thing the next day. His hide was covered in splotches and writing that looked like a little's, and the work was barely a quarter complete. And his hands were bandaged. "You're not going to finish that before tomorrow, you know."

Jenackt stopped and slowly looked up. "Not you again. Don't you have someone else to pester?" He looked down at his hides and painstakingly wrote another letter. His brow furrowed and there was frustration in his expression before he threw down the quill. "Do you have to rub it in? It's not like I'm bloody well used to this." His hand gripped at the hide. "I just sharding well learned how to write. I'm doing the bloody best I can."

"Obviously." She eyed the letters, then sighed and sat down across from him. "Hand me the quill."

He frowned and looked at his quill, then back at her suspiciously. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just give me the quill."

He slowly pushed the quill at her and waited. "What are you going to do with it?"

Alina gave him a look that could peel paint. "Write with it. _Obviously_. Pass me the hide, too."

He scowled at her and shoved the hide at her. "Smart ass."

"You're right. I _am_ smart." She wiped the tip of the quill against the hide to brush off the half-dried clots of ink, then began to write. "What did you do to your hands, anyway? Did you get in another fight?"

"I mentioned your ass, not your brains." He watched her with a furrowed brow. Her writing was far neater than his own and it came to him that she was actually helping him. His brow cleared and he stared at her. "Thanks. For the help." He then looked at his hands and moved them off of the table and out of sight. His jaw worked side to side and he took a slow breath. "No. Believe it or not, I don't seek trouble out."

"Then how come it looks like you did?" she asked.

"Maybe because when it comes to you holdbred lot, everything I do looks like its trouble." He snapped.

She shrugged. He _was_ Holdless, although the Weyrleader had spoken on his behalf. That had to mean something. Or so the gossip said. "Would you use the word 'wingsail' or just 'wing'?"

There was no hiding the scowl on his face. The girl didn't even try to deny it. "It depends. A wingsail is a part of the wing." He spoke slowly, as if explaining something very easy to a simpleton. "The wingsail is that membrane between the rigid bones of the wing."

"Wingsail it is," she replied, and wrote it down. Apparently he knew that much.

Jenackt suddenly had to resist the urge to throttle the girl. She might have been helping him, but shells, she was a wench! Baring his teeth in a false smile, Jenackt stared at her. "Glad I could help."

"I used to do this for my sister," Alina said suddenly. She hadn't looked up, and hadn't noticed the look that Jenackt wore. "She was terrible at finishing her homework, but that was because she got distracted, not because her hands hurt."

"You mean you have a better brain than someone? I'm shocked."

The quill stilled in her hand. He was making fun of her. Briefly she debated leaving him to his own devices, but decided to tried to be gracious instead. The evening had been lovely, and she felt a lot more... something than she had in a long time. Even with Jenackt for company. "She's my twin. We're the same. She just had... other things to do."

Something about the girl irked him; he didn't know what specifically. Where others might have simply gotten monosyllabic responses out of him, this chit egged him further. But her excuse made him pause. "A twin." His lips pursed. "So...you did all her work."

"It's not like that." Why did everyone think that? She dotted an 'i' with force, and left a blot on the hide.

"Really? Then why get so upset about it?"

"I'm not." Nobody understood what being a twin was like. More than that, nobody understood what being apart from your twin was like. Whatever good feelings that a nice evening stroll along the beach to watch the moons rise had given her dissipated and were replaced by an achy pebble lodged beneath her heart.

"That's why you tried to stab through the hide?" His voice was dry, but then he shrugged. It wasn't his problem if she did her sister's work. She was helping him with his. "Is she like you?"

She shook her head. "We're not identical. She has red hair."

His mother had had red hair. Jenackt's eye twitched for a moment, but he made no comment about it; his memory of his mother was one of a gentle, loving woman, far from the girl across from him. If her twin was anything like her, he was glad that there was only one of them here. "I wasn't talking about looks."

"Really?" Alina looked up, startled. "That's usually the first thing men ask-- if we're identical."

He arched a brow and gave her a long level look. "I can handle your looks just fine. I don't have an issue with those. I was more concerned about dealing with the personality."

The quill stopped. Alina arched an eyebrow. "Are you seriously saying that you have a problem with me?"

Looking down his straight nose, Jenackt blinked at her and then looked at his hide. "Not at the moment."

She sniffed, then slowly began writing again. That _stung_. And it shouldn't. Who cared if some stupid Holdless boy liked her anyway?! Briefly she debated writing down the wrong answers, but her pride wouldn't let her. She was _smart_. And this would be the last time she ever did _him_ any favours. The quill fairly sped across the hide now, and after a moment she set it aside and pushed the hide back across the table. "There. If anyone asks, I helped you because your hands are broken. I'm not going to get in trouble because I cheated for you."

At her sniff, he tilted his head. "You didn't have to help." His took a breath. "I actually do appreciate it you know. " He looked at her and picked up the hide with bandaged hands, looking at it. "Thanks." He looked back at her and his lower lip pursed. "And by the way...I was joking." He spoke with a straight face, his expression bland as he rose. "Black hair is prettier than red."

Alina stared at him, frozen, for once unable to say anything. It wasn't until he'd actually left the dining cavern that she could breathe again. **What the heck was _that_ supposed to mean!?** She tapped her fingers against the table in irritation, then rubbed her arms. He was probably just trying to mess with her head. Unless he wasn't. Which was also messing with her head. Nervously she twirled the end of her braid around her finger. After a moment, she sighed. He probably _was_ trying to mess with her. **Boys are so dumb,** she thought as she rose and left the cavern.

Unless they weren't. But that was equally confusing.

Last updated on the February 28th 2014

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Confusing