Room 317, Thursday Evening

[multiplez]

Z lounged on her bed, scribbling in a notebook, then ripping out what she'd written, balling it up, and tossing it in the general direction of the wastebasket. Balls of crumpled paper littered the floor.

Dear Jack

Jack

Hey, moron,

And you know I mean that in only the most affectionate way. Boarding school kind of sucks over break. Half of everybody's gone, and the ones who are here seem to be keeping to their rooms. Like me. I pretty much slept through Christmas. It was great. Still no sign of my roommate. I guess he went off to a hospital somewhere; see if they could do something about his poor hand or lack thereof.

I'm pretty sure I passed all my classes, so, y'know, that's a first. I'm not about to make Honor Roll--if this place even has Honor Roll, I don't think it does--but I passed. Cruger should be happy with that, right?

I miss you.

I really miss you.

Why didn't you give this place a chance?

Frak it, you're never gonna read this anyway.

Love,
Z

That letter joined its brothers crumpled on the floor, and Z flopped back onto her bed with her SPD handbook.

((Door is closed, but post is open!))

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[*pats little Emo Ranger*]