Post by Harlan Lafitte on Feb 10, 2008 20:08:47 GMT -5
One thing that Harlan Lafitte didn’t like was being woken spontaneously in the morning. Not only did he not like getting up at all, but waking up to the sounds of your friends jamming away on guitars and drums wasn’t as peachy as you’d think it was, especially when it was intentional. Today it was no different, same routine just a different day. Although he was becoming quite accustomed to the sounds they were still annoying as ever. Harlan knew they all thought it was funny as hell, but it wasn’t as pleasant for him.
Even thought it was the weekend and most of the Hoffman boys slept in peacefully Harlan, for once, weren’t one of those boys. He wanted to get revenge, even though it’d be childish. Have you ever heard of the old, shaving cream in your hand trick? If not, most likely you’ve been living at the bottom of a rock all your life. It was totally unoriginal and overused, but it worked like a charm every time and gave you the satisfaction of revenge quite well.
After spraying pink shaving cream unto three of the boy’s hands Harlan crept backwards quietly and muttered a few words underneath his breath. What would he do to get them up without being totally obvious? He thought for a few minutes before rushing over to his nightstand and rummaged through a drawer for a quick minute. Finally, after pulling out his trusty i-pod, and hooked it up to the speakers he always used for them. After finding a good, loud song that no one could ignore he pressed play and watched the scene unfold in front of him.
“What the bloody hell!?”
Laughing wildly Harlan pointed at them and leant against the wall as the three began a mad search of the room with their eyes, madly trying to find the perpetrator. Harlan’s friend, Rolland, immediately spotted him and narrowed his eyes before jumping out of the bed. No need to sit around and guess what was coming next, because Harlan knew what was coming for him, a nice face full of pink shaving cream. His laughter ceased and impulses kicked in as he ran towards the door without a moments notice and quickly made his way out of the dorm area, never looking back,
Finally, after making sure the coast was clear, Harlan snickered softly, he shook some dirty blonde hair from his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. It was quite early in the morning for him, nine o’clock, and the boy had no clue what to do. Breakfast wouldn’t be served for another thirty minutes and somehow he didn’t have any homework or studies to catch up on, surprisingly. Of course, he could have done some extra credit for his history class, but why spend a perfect day like this holed up in a library? Today felt like a good day, despite the turbulent wake-up call, but that was before Harlan looked down at his feet.
Dammit. He had forgotten to change out of his pajamas. Harlan now stood in the middle of Hoffman’s Academy dressed in plaid sleeping pants, and a loose black wife beater. This was defiantly not his usual attire, and many people wouldn’t have guessed that an odd dresser like Harlan would sleep in something so…mundane. Now he was going to have to go back to his dorm, but didn’t necessarily want to see his roommates right now. He racked his brains for a good plan, but didn’t seem to come up with any. Usually Harlan was filled with creative ideas and plans, but it was just far too early for his brain to function properly and he hadn’t eaten or drunken anything yet. Ugh, maybe this wasn’t going to be a good day after all? The only thing he could think of was to go back to Hoffman Hall, and stay in one of the common rooms. That sounded good enough for him, maybe there was some coffee in there another student had brought back from an early morning java run.
Entering the warm common room of Hoffman’s hall, Harlan immediately inhaled the sweet, sweet scent of coffee beans. Someone had coffee. His blue eyes searched the room until they fell on a small, scrawny looking freshman. Perfect, Harlan was a senior and this boy couldn’t say no to him. I mean, Harlan could make or break the kid’s rep around school, but he would never actually do that. Harlan wasn’t that cruel, or at least he didn’t believe himself to be.
An hour later, and a cup of coffee with his new freshman mate, Derrick, Harlan felt that if was safe enough to go back up to his dorm. He bid the boy goodbye, and promised to chat up a girl he had a crush on that he knew. Derrick was pretty cool for being much younger than Harlan, but age didn’t really make a difference to him. It just depended on if you were a good person to chill with, and that kid could really hold a decent conversation. But enough about that, Harlan wanted to get dressed and get out of this school for awhile. He entered his dorm cautiously, peeking his head in first, and then his entire body as soon as he saw it was empty.
Harlan was dressed in fifteen minutes flat, and ready to go out as he finished pulling on his long, black pea coat and striped scarf. He didn’t really feel like drinking at ten-thirty in the morning, so bars were out of mind right now. However, Harlan had heard Weston Caswell talking about some new café by Portobello Road. It’d be nice to do something new for a change. And that’d exactly what he did. Harlan found the café half an hour later tucked into a cozy little corner. The name of the café was something like Alturas Coffee, but he didn’t pay much attention to the odd name, all he wanted was something to eat. His stomach was growling so loud a few people gave him odd looks as he passed them on the street.
Entering the building, Harlan was amazed by how big the place was, from how tiny it looked like on the outside. The check-put area was in the center of a large, hard-wooded area and surrounded by old antique tables and chairs. He grinned to himself as he spotted a rather attractive waitress, and sauntered up to the check-out area ready to turn on the charm.
Even thought it was the weekend and most of the Hoffman boys slept in peacefully Harlan, for once, weren’t one of those boys. He wanted to get revenge, even though it’d be childish. Have you ever heard of the old, shaving cream in your hand trick? If not, most likely you’ve been living at the bottom of a rock all your life. It was totally unoriginal and overused, but it worked like a charm every time and gave you the satisfaction of revenge quite well.
After spraying pink shaving cream unto three of the boy’s hands Harlan crept backwards quietly and muttered a few words underneath his breath. What would he do to get them up without being totally obvious? He thought for a few minutes before rushing over to his nightstand and rummaged through a drawer for a quick minute. Finally, after pulling out his trusty i-pod, and hooked it up to the speakers he always used for them. After finding a good, loud song that no one could ignore he pressed play and watched the scene unfold in front of him.
“What the bloody hell!?”
Laughing wildly Harlan pointed at them and leant against the wall as the three began a mad search of the room with their eyes, madly trying to find the perpetrator. Harlan’s friend, Rolland, immediately spotted him and narrowed his eyes before jumping out of the bed. No need to sit around and guess what was coming next, because Harlan knew what was coming for him, a nice face full of pink shaving cream. His laughter ceased and impulses kicked in as he ran towards the door without a moments notice and quickly made his way out of the dorm area, never looking back,
Finally, after making sure the coast was clear, Harlan snickered softly, he shook some dirty blonde hair from his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. It was quite early in the morning for him, nine o’clock, and the boy had no clue what to do. Breakfast wouldn’t be served for another thirty minutes and somehow he didn’t have any homework or studies to catch up on, surprisingly. Of course, he could have done some extra credit for his history class, but why spend a perfect day like this holed up in a library? Today felt like a good day, despite the turbulent wake-up call, but that was before Harlan looked down at his feet.
Dammit. He had forgotten to change out of his pajamas. Harlan now stood in the middle of Hoffman’s Academy dressed in plaid sleeping pants, and a loose black wife beater. This was defiantly not his usual attire, and many people wouldn’t have guessed that an odd dresser like Harlan would sleep in something so…mundane. Now he was going to have to go back to his dorm, but didn’t necessarily want to see his roommates right now. He racked his brains for a good plan, but didn’t seem to come up with any. Usually Harlan was filled with creative ideas and plans, but it was just far too early for his brain to function properly and he hadn’t eaten or drunken anything yet. Ugh, maybe this wasn’t going to be a good day after all? The only thing he could think of was to go back to Hoffman Hall, and stay in one of the common rooms. That sounded good enough for him, maybe there was some coffee in there another student had brought back from an early morning java run.
Entering the warm common room of Hoffman’s hall, Harlan immediately inhaled the sweet, sweet scent of coffee beans. Someone had coffee. His blue eyes searched the room until they fell on a small, scrawny looking freshman. Perfect, Harlan was a senior and this boy couldn’t say no to him. I mean, Harlan could make or break the kid’s rep around school, but he would never actually do that. Harlan wasn’t that cruel, or at least he didn’t believe himself to be.
An hour later, and a cup of coffee with his new freshman mate, Derrick, Harlan felt that if was safe enough to go back up to his dorm. He bid the boy goodbye, and promised to chat up a girl he had a crush on that he knew. Derrick was pretty cool for being much younger than Harlan, but age didn’t really make a difference to him. It just depended on if you were a good person to chill with, and that kid could really hold a decent conversation. But enough about that, Harlan wanted to get dressed and get out of this school for awhile. He entered his dorm cautiously, peeking his head in first, and then his entire body as soon as he saw it was empty.
Harlan was dressed in fifteen minutes flat, and ready to go out as he finished pulling on his long, black pea coat and striped scarf. He didn’t really feel like drinking at ten-thirty in the morning, so bars were out of mind right now. However, Harlan had heard Weston Caswell talking about some new café by Portobello Road. It’d be nice to do something new for a change. And that’d exactly what he did. Harlan found the café half an hour later tucked into a cozy little corner. The name of the café was something like Alturas Coffee, but he didn’t pay much attention to the odd name, all he wanted was something to eat. His stomach was growling so loud a few people gave him odd looks as he passed them on the street.
Entering the building, Harlan was amazed by how big the place was, from how tiny it looked like on the outside. The check-put area was in the center of a large, hard-wooded area and surrounded by old antique tables and chairs. He grinned to himself as he spotted a rather attractive waitress, and sauntered up to the check-out area ready to turn on the charm.
