tree hugger ;; open

[Harlan Lafitte]

Harlan Lafitte had spent the early hours of the morning locked in his dorm room, feeling like nothing could even get him to move, besides nausea. Harlan had tried countless times to get back to sleep but it was no use. The boy had a major hangover and not even all of England’s Advil was going to cure it. Harlan wasn’t a stupid boy, nor was he a genius but he had a great deal of wrong choices stacked upon a platter. One was being stupid enough to drink a secret stash of liquor with Jagger Nicholson the following night which resulted in the world’s worst hangover. He had probably gotten a total of four or five hours of sleep that night which was entirely not enough for the young man to function. Not did it help much that he had to get up once or twice every hour when his stomach stirred.

Finally, when he did decide in getting up all he did was pull on some dirty clothes and slug his heavy body to the nurse’s office. When he had entered the starch white room it made his eyes immediately squint from the brightness of the walls and light. Harlan waited impatiently for someone to help him, but when the help came, he decided that it was a bad idea. Lectures, scolding, and more lectures. He incoherently tried to listen, but felt his mind wonder off every time the nurse said something he didn’t want to hear. Thank God she cut to the chase after about a good fifteen minutes and made him take some pills he could never remember the name of.

When he was finally able to function it was about noontime, which made it to late to catch any breakfast. Harlan’s day was already turning out to be a bad one and when he walked back into his dorm room he contemplated about just hibernating in there for the weekend which sounded much more appealing then going outside, or visiting the library. Instead, he decided to take a cold shower to wake him up and also change his dirty clothes which stank of spilt liquor and sweat. Not very appealing to the human nose, now was it?

Rubbing off the steam coated mirror Harlan made a face at the dark circles under his eyes from not getting much sleep. He was now in dry, clean clothes and was about to leave the room but he needed to brush his teeth first. Many people thought that brushing your teeth was a stupid thing to do, and many of them even forgot to do it often, but not Harlan. He liked to have white, appealing teeth even though he didn’t smile as much as people wanted him too. Why smile when you have no reason to? He had told them many times before, although people just rolled their eyes and shrugged their shoulders. It was true, wasn’t it? Why smile when you’re embarrassed? Why smile when there’s nothing funny to laugh or grin at. Maybe it was just him, but that was how he thought.

After he brushed his teeth and found a pair of shoes to slip on the sun was burning brightly outside, which meant it was warmer outside today, even for an autumn day. Harlan loved going outside, and spent most of his time outside during the summer, and that was also why he disliked winter, it was too cold outside to do anything! Seizing the opportunity to go and enjoy the sunlight he strolled out of the common room and downstairs to Hoffman Hall. A few children still were in the room, chatting to each other about who knows what. He smiled slightly and made his way out of the room before approaching the large, oak doors leading to outside. He opened one slowly and slipped outside.
Now that he was outside, what was he going to do next? Harlan had brought a book with him, Shakespeare to be exact, but wasn’t in a reading mood at the moment. He wanted to just lie down in the cool grass and fall asleep, but the ground had been getting cold, anticipating the upcoming winter season. He could have also gone to the theater to work on a new script that his acting class received the other day, but that didn’t seem too appealing either. Maybe all Harlan needed to do was walk off his hangover? Yeah, that sounded good to him. He’d just take a walk around the courtyard, get some fresh air, and let his head open up.

[grace avery ivy]

With no luck of dancing being able to clear her head from the recent upsetting thought she couldn't block out, walking seemed to be the best idea. And with the cool air on her face, it would do her well. Grace's hands held onto the sleeves of her long-sleeved shirt, her cheeks slightly red from the soft, cool air. Grace's eyes were glued to the ground as she walked up the path. Days like this, with the sun peaking out of the orange and red leaves made her normally happy, but these past few days that feeling just hadn't been coming her way.

Life. What was the meaning of it? Gosh, she felt so unlike herself lately, it was almost insane. And normally Grace thought of logical terms for everything, with also a bright out-look on almost anything. And now she was wondering what the meaning of life was? Something was wrong with her - and she was pretty sure it was the fact she had no one to turn to in this time. Screw this school for putting people in groups, screw her for being so unsocial and unapproachable, screw life for making this girl think this way. It was messing up almost everything she did and it was odd.

Like some knew, Grace barely ever touched a "bad" thing. No alcohol intake, no drugs, etc. So why would she be lugging around everywhere lately? She had stayed in her room for a total of two days - what could change this normally content girl into something so.. Not? Whenever Grace felt such feelings she could tell something was wrong. Grace glanced up and took in a deep breath, and shoved her hands into her tight skinny jean pockets.

Lately, Grace had been craving human interaction. She knew, it didn't seem "stupid" to just go and talk to anyone who was willing, but she only seemed to be able to have a real conversation with someone over messenger - and she knew that was almost sad. But it was reality, as sad and shitty as it was. Her social life had gone down the toilet in grade seven anyway, but the fact that she was almost an adult and still only had two or three friends who she called once in a blue moon.

She felt horrible for thinking so much about herself, but she just couldn't help it. Maybe it was a mid-life crisis. No. It was like a small little stupid feeling when she only cared about herself. She was being stupid, this was no big deal. She just needed to smarten up and talk to someone for once. Maybe. Grace was only really "close" with a few of her dance partners, but even then she kept to herself.

Although, the only regular friend that she had out of dancing would be Harlan. Odd, she knew. Well - only because of their personalities. He was sometimes spontaneous, and Grace Ivy certainly was not. But he was an amazingly nice boy, and she could admit he was a very nice guy to talk to. Especially when she couldn't bring herself to talk to anyone else. Grace let an idea pass her mind, though didn't think too much of it; possibly calling up Harlan? Oh, that could either be a great, or horrible idea. And it was almost impossible to tell. Would he be weirded out? Oh, whatever, it was most likely a bad idea anyway.

Grace took a seat on the bench and tucked her legs up to her chest, placing her hands on the large rips in her tight jeans. Maybe today could just work out if she let everything leave her head. Just let everything cool down in her body, and then she could go for another try in the dance studio. ...Maybe.

[Harlan Lafitte]

Autumn had always been Harlan’s favorite season. It wasn’t too hot or cold out, and perfect for his style of clothing. In the summer he couldn’t wear all of his long pants and layers, and usually in England’s chilly winters he would have to wear bulky coats that weighed him down, but not in autumn. He could get up, put something on he really wanted to wear, and get on with the day. Usually most guys didn’t bother with what they were wearing at all, but Harlan was a little different. He had style; he liked to express himself through what he wore.

Harlan had a sort of eclectic style, to sum it up. He had a little bit of everything going on at all times, and whoever said less was more would be rolling in their grave if they saw Harlan. He always had on layered shirts. The only time you saw the boy with one shirt on would be when he was sleeping, and half of the time he usually slept shirtless. Today was no different. Harlan was sporting layered long sleeve thermals paired with skinny jeans and some black boots. Oh, and who could forget the accessories? Harlan love scarves, it was like a fetish of his. That, and necklaces, he had a whole collection he wore every single day. Most of the time, he’d only take them off if a teacher requested that he did for a part, or if he was swimming. Other than that, they stayed around his neck every waking moment.

Twirling on of the said necklaces, Harlan wondered around one of the walking paths. One of the paths led to a wooded area, which was quite possibly one of his favorite places to be at Hoffman’s. It was shaded during the summer, the perfect place to read, and during the winter it cut the cold winds in half. It was like a whole different world parked right outside his school. The other led around the school, littered with little benches along the way. Sometimes Harlan would get up early in the morning, run around the path a few times, and stop and rest on a bench, but today he was not going to be any running. Harlan felt that if he even walked a little faster than his sludge right now his head might spontaneously combust, or something.

Usually when Harlan had a hangover like this he would have stayed in bed, but for some reason he decided to be productive today…or at least something like that. He still hadn’t really done anything, besides get up and go to the nurse’s office, but he still felt like he was making a small contribute to something, maybe his fitness? Or he could-…

Be talking to Grace! He spotted the blonde haired girl in the near horizon, sitting alone on the bench. He had always felt fond towards the girl, mostly because she was so easy to fluster. Grace Ivy wasn’t exactly the most sociable person, but that didn’t give Harper any reason not to talk to her. He thought she was a very easy person to talk to, minus the few awkward silences where she might go into a fit of giggles, but that was it. Grace always came off to Harlan as a happy, bubbly person who just liked to keep to herself, but today he could already feel something was wrong.

“Excuse me, Miss, I'm writing a term paper on the finer things in life, and I was wondering if I could interview you.”

Harlan grinned cheekily, as he sat down next to Grace, if that cheesy pick up line couldn’t cheer up anyone, he didn’t know what could. Bad pick-ups were one of the best ways to make someone laugh, unless they really sucked. Other than that, if Harlan, the pick up extraordinaire, couldn’t get a smile or laugh something was really wrong.

[grace avery ivy]

As many people who would like to beg to differ - Grace wasn't a dumb blond. She was just... Naive. Yes, that's the word. She would take most situations in the innocent-child type way, but she couldn't help it. It was just how she was. If someone asked her a question that was "too mature" for her, she would just leave it with a small shrug and smile, but she didn't get herself in over her head. Grace knew that she was smart in school but outside she didn't know the terms for most, ahem, mature things.

As she heard a voice, she looked surprised. Her eyes looked towards the figure and she acknowledged the person questioning her. Although, as soon as she noticed who it was she almost immediately knew he was joking around. Grace looked to the ground and gave a nervous smile, a giggle catching her voice, "Hey, Harlan," She nodded and placed her hands in her lap as she watched him sit.

Harlan had this weird way of always making her smile. No matter what, he just got a little happiness out of her. Even when she was feeling however she did that day. She tried another smile and bit her lip lightly, glancing to him again. She enjoyed how free he was. He was outspoken, and fun, while she just stayed in the background and watched all the action and teenage-hood rush past in front of her. Grace, though, was still particularly known. Her face was known, at least. She didn't run around to get people to know her name, but people still knew of her. But the point was she wasn't letting herself live her life to the fullest and she couldn't even come up with a reason why.

Harlan, like before, had the best pick up lines to make a girl toss her eyes and walk around. But that was why Grace liked him. He was so unlike her, it sometimes brought out a different side of her. Again, that was a sometimes. But he made her laugh and smile more than she did: and this was exactly what she needed.

"How are you?" She asked, and looked to her hands on her lap. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and smiled again at him, though it was slightly forced. She couldn't help it though, with the mood that she was in not even the nicest person could help her attitude today. She was just in a slump, and she couldn't help it anymore. Grace bit her lip again and looked back at the red and orange leaves on the trees, and the sunlight shining through. God, even the nice weather couldn't turn her around. What was wrong with her? Oh, right. Life.

[Harlan Lafitte]

Something was defiantly wrong with Grace today, he called it. Usually anything Harlan did, even the tilt of his head, put a smile on the girl’s face. This upset him; he didn’t really like people in bad moods, especially if they were female, or his friends. This fact usually surprised people, because Harlan could either cause two different first impressions: the sweetest guy you’ve ever met, or a snarky jerk. You usually only got the jerk part on rare occasions, meaning you annoyed him somehow, or he just didn’t like you. First impressions were important to him, if Harlan wasn’t impressed with you within a couple of hours, you might as well not try.

“Gracie, what’s wrong dearest?”

Another thing about Harlan was that he was pretty blunt. There weren’t very many times when he would beat around the bush, and he could only come up with two times where he tried to avoid a certain subject as hard as he could. One of those times was when he backed up his father’s Rolls-Royce into a telephone poll, and dented the bumper. The other time, well, he didn’t like to talk about. It was just too embarrassing to admit to anyone, but whenever Harlan really, truly liked someone he lost his suave, cool, and collected appearance. He was like a young child who had to go to the bathroom pretty bad. He couldn’t stand still, think straight, or anything. Maybe that’s why Harlan didn’t like serious relationships? They made him feel so…unlike himself, and he didn’t like the fact that a person, let alone a beautiful girl, do that to him.

“I’d be better if you were happy.”

Harlan nodded slowly, and made a little frown paired with an incredible puppy dog face. He had always been able to get what he wanted when he was younger just by making one simple expression. Harlan only got better at perfecting the signature “puppy dog eyes” as he went to more and more acting classes, and his skills got sharper and sharper. Now, there were very few people who could resist Harlan whenever he wanted to know something, or most importantly, get out of trouble. But, the way he put it, he wasn’t doing any harm to anyone. He either didn’t deserve to get a punishment, or deserved to hear what another person was hiding. Whenever he got the fact, or thing, out of the person he almost always helped them out, and made the problem almost seem like a small trifle.

For example, one time, one of Harlan’s friends had been hiding the fact that they were slightly bulimic. He had guessed that something had been seriously wrong after Harlan had started paying more close attention to his friend’s eating habits, and how they would have to leave so sudden or unexpectedly after they were done. However blunt Harlan was though, he wasn’t going to confront his friend on this, he wasn’t even sure if his observations were even close to the signs of bulimia, but sooner or later he would have figured out something to say, and that day came.

Harlan and his friend had just casually been talking, and something slipped out of his friend’s mouth that confirmed his suspicions. The friend tried to play it off coolly, and just change the subject, but Harlan was determined to help his friend now that he knew. After successfully using his puppy dog face, and got the truth out, both he and his friend set out on doing their best to beat the disease, and Harlan was there every step of the way until his friend became healthy again. He had never felt so accomplished in his life before.