I get by with a little help from my friends-Stella

[jinkyung]

Squirming a little, uneasy in the rather uncomfortable chair outside of the classroom door, JJ prayed no one would see him. It was after class, where people usually headed to their dorms, or went for lunch, or even out to town on this lovely day, but where was he? Waiting for the professor to come by, and help him out, as it had been 'strongly recommended' that he come in, which in teacher-speak meant that if he didn't he was in danger of failing. He couldn't help it, he just wasn't either interested or strong in the arithmetic department. He enjoyed music and dance and was pretty good at gym (although he wasn't going to show off too much), but not so much with these numbers. After all, money wasn't that important to him, as in keeping track of it. He had all he could ever need as a kid, and there was no concern of raising enough or saving up for college or anything like that. It was always handled already, and none of his concern. Perhaps he could blame his childhood upbringings on his lack to understand precalculus. Who used that stuff anyways?

The large clock across the hall could be heard ticking, slowly, daunting. Someone could come at any moment, they could see that he was sitting there like a little boy who had done wrong, ready to serve detention or something like that, and they'd end up spreading rumors or laughing or snickering. He didn't take kindly to that, and it would be for their safety that the teacher came soon enough so he didn't have to get into a fight...another thing he wasn't always good at controlling: his temper.

Okay, he'd wait five more minutes. That would make it 4:30 on the dot. After that, he was outta there. Hopefully the professor would understand, his reputation was at stake, and he couldn't risk that more than he already has, playing Mr. Tough Guy (at least for today, as his testosterone was sort of governing what he did and how he acted.) He'd explain it to the teacher, and hope they'd come earlier next time, if they ever granted JJ a next time.

[Stella Pinyin]

It always took time to become fluent in a second language. Even when you could speak it, reading proved to be an equally challenging task, if not harder. Stella was used to characters, to poetic combinations of old words to make new. Her eyesight did not help, and while she had managed to muddle along so far, it had become apparent to her english teacher that she just did not have enough of a grasp on the written language to be able to write an essay with any real depth.

So, off she was packed to go see someone to help her. It was awakward, and a little embarressing. She was nearly of an age with the students graduating and here she was, having to be taught to write like a child. But complaining was not in Stella's nature and so she arrived early for her 4:45 appointment.

Someone was already there, she could tell from the hall. It wasn't until she was closer though that she could make sense of the blur of colours to recognise the boy sitting outside. The boy from the dance, who'd knocked her down then apologized so nicely.

"Ah, hello," she said quietly, looking for another seat. Without her cane, she was judging where exactly it was and sat down with a bit of a thump as she misjudged. "S-Sorry for, ah, disappearing at the dance," In truth, she had been hugely embarrassed. By the entire night. Her cheeks started to show pink at the very memory of it. "I, ah, haven't seen you since then."

That struck her as somewhat of a pity; apart from Zac, Stella was pretty alone, and given Zac's relationship with L.C (who Stella was still terrified of) she hadn't seen much of him either.

It made writing to her uncle unpleasant; he had wanted her to at least try to network, make friends.... Become less of a mouse.