Alexander stared at his drone for a few minutes, wondering what to do next with it. His duct tape roll was almost out, his reserve of spare parts was increasingly thin, and he would probably have to leave the workshop soon anyway, but he still wondered how he could continue to build and improve upon what he'd done. He didn't want to leave the workshop. It was his citadel, his personal fiefdom, and what kind of ruler would he be if he left his citadel open to invasion?
((Alexander Hawthorne, pregame start))
Alexander sat back in a contemplative silence. He had his leather flight jacket hung up on his chair. Probably the last time I'll wear it this year, he thought. I'll probably have to switch over to my greatcoat soon. The good ol' Massachusetts winter's finally starting to set in. Alexander took his eyes off of the drone and began to stare at the ceiling, not saying a word as he did so. He'd been working on his drone for hours now, and he realized he hadn't said a single word while doing so. The occasional grunt, maybe, but nothing that could be considered a part of the English language. Alexander liked it that way. Liked the silence. Liked the isolation.
Since Valentin had been out for a few days now, his rate of socialization with others had dropped to near zero. The amount of words he had said today almost definitely didn't exceed 100. It probably didn't even exceed 50. The truth was, he really had nothing to say to anyone. Why talk to anyone when all the conversation was going to amount to was pointless small talk? It's not like some truly revolutionary ideas were going to spring out of a conversation between two hormone-addled teens with much more pressing matters on their minds. He noticed that most people were usually talking to someone else almost all the time. Frankly, it flabbergasted him. Those people sure talked a lot, but were they really saying anything? Was there something so profound about what X person did in Y class that they were going to remember in even a few hours? Alexander scarcely thought so. Those people simply talked for the sake of talking, and thinking about that made Alexander's mind broil in contempt.
He quickly distanced himself from those thoughts, though. There was no use dwelling on the meaningless actions of other people when something much more important lied directly in front of him. His drone. His drone wasn't his first choice of project. Alexander had originally desired to build a functioning airplane out of duct tape like the MythBusters, but he shot the idea down himself before he could do anything with it. It wasn't practical for someone of his current talent, and the school administration would probably have a fit if they realized a senior was trying to build a plane in their workshop. He soon settled on the idea that making a scrap drone would satisfy his desire to make a flying object while at the same time being relatively less dangerous to create. At the moment, however, he was stumped. He didn't know how to build upon what he'd already done. He knew the drone wings and propellers would be difficult to create, but he hadn't expected to be this hard-pressed for ideas. He probably had to go to the store and get more duct tape before scavenging the landfill for more junk parts. But he still couldn't get himself to leave the workshop.
He decided to stay put, and to sit and contemplate what he would do next in blessed silence.
A Moment of Silence
Now closed
Ah yes, free period - truly the crown jewel of the school day. No tests, no teachers blabbering for hours about stuff nobody cares about, and most importantly... plenty of empty or near empty corners of the school to wander around in.
Jacob Lang: Pregame Start
Jacob whistled softly as he wandered through the halls of the creativity wing, glancing around to make sure that he hadn't been followed. His hand sat loosely inside his pocket and idly played with a couple of screws as he continued onward, grinning to himself all the while. As far as senior pranks went, this was pretty genius, if he did say so himself. The idea was simple: he and a couple friends would each go through the school and remove a few screws from somewhere every week. Nothing important or load-bearing, of course - that was an easy way to get caught and ruin everything. The plan was to leave a full jar of them on a teacher's desk at the end of the year with a note explaining what had happened, and then watch the show as the faculty scrambled to put them back into the proper places.
Unfortunately, without anyone with him to keep an eye out for security, he wouldn't be able to get too many today. It was a bit of a shame, but, oh well. Nothing to do about it but just be careful and thank the good lord above that the JEM administration was too cheap to install cameras in classrooms and had instead opted to plug the gaps with a squadron of lumbering oafs a couple steps below mall cops. Aaaaanyway...
Jacob's whistling came to an abrupt stop as he approached the workshop. It was an ideal target - after all, how many other rooms in the school could a student be seen wandering around in with a screwdriver and not attract any questions? Chuckling to himself, he adjusted the straps of his backpack as he stepped into the room, ready to continue his reign of terror. They didn't call him the king of pranks for nothing!
Well, actually, that was a lie. Nobody called him that, not even his so-called "partners in crime", but it definitely had a nice ring to it. That was the important part. And, speaking of important things, another fact to consider was that the workshop was, in fact, not empty, meaning he'd probably have to come back and hit it later. It was a bit annoying, to be certain, but there was still opportunity for fun, especially when the room's occupant was someone who took himself as seriously as Alexander seemed to.
And with that, before anyone could object, Jacob had already sidled up to the table that the other student was working at, doing his best to look impressed as he glanced over the heap of mechanical parts. He wasn't very mechanically adept himself, so, as expected, he couldn't make heads or tails of what Alexander was working on. There was one thing he knew it wasn't, however, which gave him an easy opening.
"Ooh, whatcha making over there? Looks like some sort of bomb - how much C4 you got in there? You know, if that's your plan, I'm not gonna rat on you, but..."
He put on a wounded expression as he continued.
"...you could at least give me a warning before blowing the place sky high. Like, don't get me wrong, this place kinda sucks, but I got just as much of a sense of self-preservation as the next guy, and I'd rather not spend my last moments in this shithole, if you catch my drift. You think you could at least do that for me, friendo, seeing as I've already done you the favour of not reporting this to the authorities?"
A smile spread across his face as he waited for a response.
Jacob Lang: Pregame Start
Jacob whistled softly as he wandered through the halls of the creativity wing, glancing around to make sure that he hadn't been followed. His hand sat loosely inside his pocket and idly played with a couple of screws as he continued onward, grinning to himself all the while. As far as senior pranks went, this was pretty genius, if he did say so himself. The idea was simple: he and a couple friends would each go through the school and remove a few screws from somewhere every week. Nothing important or load-bearing, of course - that was an easy way to get caught and ruin everything. The plan was to leave a full jar of them on a teacher's desk at the end of the year with a note explaining what had happened, and then watch the show as the faculty scrambled to put them back into the proper places.
Unfortunately, without anyone with him to keep an eye out for security, he wouldn't be able to get too many today. It was a bit of a shame, but, oh well. Nothing to do about it but just be careful and thank the good lord above that the JEM administration was too cheap to install cameras in classrooms and had instead opted to plug the gaps with a squadron of lumbering oafs a couple steps below mall cops. Aaaaanyway...
Jacob's whistling came to an abrupt stop as he approached the workshop. It was an ideal target - after all, how many other rooms in the school could a student be seen wandering around in with a screwdriver and not attract any questions? Chuckling to himself, he adjusted the straps of his backpack as he stepped into the room, ready to continue his reign of terror. They didn't call him the king of pranks for nothing!
Well, actually, that was a lie. Nobody called him that, not even his so-called "partners in crime", but it definitely had a nice ring to it. That was the important part. And, speaking of important things, another fact to consider was that the workshop was, in fact, not empty, meaning he'd probably have to come back and hit it later. It was a bit annoying, to be certain, but there was still opportunity for fun, especially when the room's occupant was someone who took himself as seriously as Alexander seemed to.
And with that, before anyone could object, Jacob had already sidled up to the table that the other student was working at, doing his best to look impressed as he glanced over the heap of mechanical parts. He wasn't very mechanically adept himself, so, as expected, he couldn't make heads or tails of what Alexander was working on. There was one thing he knew it wasn't, however, which gave him an easy opening.
"Ooh, whatcha making over there? Looks like some sort of bomb - how much C4 you got in there? You know, if that's your plan, I'm not gonna rat on you, but..."
He put on a wounded expression as he continued.
"...you could at least give me a warning before blowing the place sky high. Like, don't get me wrong, this place kinda sucks, but I got just as much of a sense of self-preservation as the next guy, and I'd rather not spend my last moments in this shithole, if you catch my drift. You think you could at least do that for me, friendo, seeing as I've already done you the favour of not reporting this to the authorities?"
A smile spread across his face as he waited for a response.
Alexander jumped in his skin. He'd heard the door to the workshop open, but he never expected the person to enter to actually talk to him. He quickly spun around in his chair to see-
Oh. It was Jacob Lang.
What a wretch.
Of all the people who could've entered the workshop, of all the times that someone could've entered the workshop, Jacob Lang just had to enter now. While Alexander hated useless small talk, what Jacob did was far worse. All he did was lie, lie, lie about anything and everything in the pursuit of the most basic and pathetic scraps of attention people threw at him, and boy, he ate those scraps up like a starved dog. Practically all of that attention he craved so dearly was negative, too. Just how attention-deprived was he if he was willing to provoke random people to get their negative feedback? Alexander didn't even need to run the variables through his head to come to a conclusion. His parents probably don't give him the time of day he so desperately wants. Either that or he feels he's failed his parents to the point that he doesn't deserve their attention. Either option will make a good insult.
Yeah, he'd heard Jacob say that his drone was a flying bomb. Alexander realized the little asswipe was probably purposefully trying to make him angry, but he didn't care. He might as well indulge the King of Annoyance before he ripped into him with a zinger about his parents not loving him.
Alexander put on the widest shit-eating grin he could muster.
"Well look who it is! It's the King of Annoyance! Why have you come here to bother me, your majesty? Don't have enough self-worth or self-confidence to bother your parents for attention today?"
Oh. It was Jacob Lang.
What a wretch.
Of all the people who could've entered the workshop, of all the times that someone could've entered the workshop, Jacob Lang just had to enter now. While Alexander hated useless small talk, what Jacob did was far worse. All he did was lie, lie, lie about anything and everything in the pursuit of the most basic and pathetic scraps of attention people threw at him, and boy, he ate those scraps up like a starved dog. Practically all of that attention he craved so dearly was negative, too. Just how attention-deprived was he if he was willing to provoke random people to get their negative feedback? Alexander didn't even need to run the variables through his head to come to a conclusion. His parents probably don't give him the time of day he so desperately wants. Either that or he feels he's failed his parents to the point that he doesn't deserve their attention. Either option will make a good insult.
Yeah, he'd heard Jacob say that his drone was a flying bomb. Alexander realized the little asswipe was probably purposefully trying to make him angry, but he didn't care. He might as well indulge the King of Annoyance before he ripped into him with a zinger about his parents not loving him.
Alexander put on the widest shit-eating grin he could muster.
"Well look who it is! It's the King of Annoyance! Why have you come here to bother me, your majesty? Don't have enough self-worth or self-confidence to bother your parents for attention today?"
Gottem.
Jacob's grin remained plastered on his face as he drummed his fingers on the workbench, the tension in the room beginning to rise. It was a beautiful feeling, really, to see someone try to try to go for some sort of clever comeback, rather than just telling him to go away. The blow didn't land, of course - if Jacob was the kind of person to get hurt by being called annoying then he would have given up this hobby long ago. Still, the fact that Alexander even tried at all meant that he wasn't just some sort of brainless normie, so points awarded for that.
Not too many points, though.
He sighed, glancing towards the entrance to the room for a brief moment. "Geeez, I try to do you a favour out of the kindness of my heart, and this is the thanks I get? It's like you want to get caught or something." He pushed himself off the table and quickly moved around to be on Alexander's other side. "Unless that is actually the plan, in which case there are much easier ways to get into juvie, believe you me. I'm something of an expert on the subject."
To the detriment of juvenile detention facilities across the nation, they had not, in fact, been graced by his presence at any point in time. Despite all the shit he had pulled in the past, Jacob had never done anything worthy of being sent to child prison, or at least, he hadn't been caught doing any such things. Still, he knew Alexander had transferred here a few years back, and unlike many of his other classmates, who had gone to the same middle school as Jacob, Alexander almost certainly had no evidence in memory that could prove or disprove the statement. That didn't mean he was going to believe it, obviously, but it was worth a shot.
Jacob's grin remained plastered on his face as he drummed his fingers on the workbench, the tension in the room beginning to rise. It was a beautiful feeling, really, to see someone try to try to go for some sort of clever comeback, rather than just telling him to go away. The blow didn't land, of course - if Jacob was the kind of person to get hurt by being called annoying then he would have given up this hobby long ago. Still, the fact that Alexander even tried at all meant that he wasn't just some sort of brainless normie, so points awarded for that.
Not too many points, though.
He sighed, glancing towards the entrance to the room for a brief moment. "Geeez, I try to do you a favour out of the kindness of my heart, and this is the thanks I get? It's like you want to get caught or something." He pushed himself off the table and quickly moved around to be on Alexander's other side. "Unless that is actually the plan, in which case there are much easier ways to get into juvie, believe you me. I'm something of an expert on the subject."
To the detriment of juvenile detention facilities across the nation, they had not, in fact, been graced by his presence at any point in time. Despite all the shit he had pulled in the past, Jacob had never done anything worthy of being sent to child prison, or at least, he hadn't been caught doing any such things. Still, he knew Alexander had transferred here a few years back, and unlike many of his other classmates, who had gone to the same middle school as Jacob, Alexander almost certainly had no evidence in memory that could prove or disprove the statement. That didn't mean he was going to believe it, obviously, but it was worth a shot.
Really? Alexander knew Jacob lied through his teeth like it was nobody's business. Like his heart would stop beating if he didn't force blatant falsehoods through his mouth every second. God, everything he'd said in the last few seconds alone was more false than saying the Earth was flat. Had Jacob really taken him for that much of a fool? Alexander's temper flared. How dare the little wretch insult his intelligence!
"If you question my intelligence again, you lying little weasel, I'll make you wish you were in juvie! Now get the fuck out of the workshop. I don't think I can stomach looking at your face for another goddamned second."
Alexander cringed as soon as he heard the words exit his mouth. He knew instantly he shouldn't have done it. He gave the other boy exactly what he wanted, hadn't he? In either case, he couldn't rescind what he had just said now.
He stuck his face back into his project, hoping that by not giving the boy any attention at all he'd go away. He didn't figure he'd be terribly lucky in that regard, though.
"If you question my intelligence again, you lying little weasel, I'll make you wish you were in juvie! Now get the fuck out of the workshop. I don't think I can stomach looking at your face for another goddamned second."
Alexander cringed as soon as he heard the words exit his mouth. He knew instantly he shouldn't have done it. He gave the other boy exactly what he wanted, hadn't he? In either case, he couldn't rescind what he had just said now.
He stuck his face back into his project, hoping that by not giving the boy any attention at all he'd go away. He didn't figure he'd be terribly lucky in that regard, though.
Wew, this guy was pissed.
It was all Jacob could do to avoid bursting out into triumphant laughter. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the one that made it all worthwhile. Everyone had weak points in their armor, somewhere. They weren't always as easy to find, but there always was at least one, somewhere. You just had to keep poking and prodding until you found it.
It was interesting, really, to find out what would set somebody off. Like, this Alexander guy's thing was pretty obvious, but it wasn't always something that you would expect. It was like opening up a pack of trading cards - every once in a while the foil wrapper comes off to reveal something really neat inside. Of course, sometimes you just end up feeling like you'd have been better off taking the money you spent on the pack and lighting it on fire. Life was unfair like that.
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Jacob tilted his head to the side quizzically as his fellow student's outburst hung in the air. A few moments later, he spoke yet again, his sarcastic reply cutting through the silence separating the pair.
"Question your intelligence? When did I ever do that? On the contrary, I've been simply honoured to be able to stand in the presence of one of the greatest minds of our generation. That's why I offered to help you out in the first place."
He paused to clear his throat.
"But, well, if my presence really is so bothersome, surely a genius inventor such as yourself could figure out a way to alleviate the problem without being so rude about it."
The message, he hoped, was clear. If you want me to leave, then make me.
It was all Jacob could do to avoid bursting out into triumphant laughter. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the one that made it all worthwhile. Everyone had weak points in their armor, somewhere. They weren't always as easy to find, but there always was at least one, somewhere. You just had to keep poking and prodding until you found it.
It was interesting, really, to find out what would set somebody off. Like, this Alexander guy's thing was pretty obvious, but it wasn't always something that you would expect. It was like opening up a pack of trading cards - every once in a while the foil wrapper comes off to reveal something really neat inside. Of course, sometimes you just end up feeling like you'd have been better off taking the money you spent on the pack and lighting it on fire. Life was unfair like that.
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Jacob tilted his head to the side quizzically as his fellow student's outburst hung in the air. A few moments later, he spoke yet again, his sarcastic reply cutting through the silence separating the pair.
"Question your intelligence? When did I ever do that? On the contrary, I've been simply honoured to be able to stand in the presence of one of the greatest minds of our generation. That's why I offered to help you out in the first place."
He paused to clear his throat.
"But, well, if my presence really is so bothersome, surely a genius inventor such as yourself could figure out a way to alleviate the problem without being so rude about it."
The message, he hoped, was clear. If you want me to leave, then make me.
Jacob really was the worst kind of person. He was the kind of person who intentionally wanted to drive people crazy, to make them scream and curse at him so he could get some sense of satisfaction in his miserable “existence.” Alexander once again wondered what could drive a person to go to these lengths just to get a rise out of someone. It the one question he’d probably never have an answer to.
He’d heard the biting sarcasm in Jacob’s voice, the taunting tone that made it clear to Alexander that’d he’d have to make the rat get out. The question was how he would do it. He ruled out force immediately, and quickly discarded several other ideas that popped into his head. If he wanted to get Jacob out of here, he’d have to use his strongest weapon: his mind.
A thought suddenly appeared in his mind: Why was Jacob in here in the first place? Even though Alexander fully admitted he knew little about him, he could deduce that the guy knew very little about mechanical things. He’d never seen him around here before, and when Alexander turned to look at him he could see the confusion in his eyes as he looked at his drone. The guy couldn’t tell the ass-end of a hammer apart from the front. There was no way he came in here for a legitimate reason about work. However, an attention-starved liar like him would probably come in here for something nefarious and attention-getting: a practical joke, of sorts. Heh. The school authorities wouldn’t like to hear that, would they? Maybe a little exercise in blackmail could get the man gone.
“Well, Jacob, you are in fact standing in front of one of the geniuses of your time,” Alexander retorted in a caustic tone. “I know you’re not in here to do anything legitimate. Someone as deprived of attention as you probably came in here for something big. Something that’ll grab the eyes of everyone in the Academy. A practical joke, perhaps?”
Alexander took a breath. “I see that screwdriver in your hands. So what’s your big joke, huh? Gonna break something? Gonna steal something with that screwdriver? Is your big joke gonna be stealing all the screws you can get your grubby little hands on? You’ve probably got contraband in your pocket right now!” Alexander exclaimed, with a kind of triumph in his voice that bled over into sheer arrogance. “I’ll tell you what. We don’t like each other very much, that’s for certain, but I’m not above making a bargain with you. If you leave this workshop right fucking now and don’t come back, I won’t tell the school authorities that you’re going around stealing school property. Do we have a deal?”
Alexander brought his hand forward, waiting for a shake. He was good for his word, too. Hopefully Jacob would take it and be on his way.
He’d heard the biting sarcasm in Jacob’s voice, the taunting tone that made it clear to Alexander that’d he’d have to make the rat get out. The question was how he would do it. He ruled out force immediately, and quickly discarded several other ideas that popped into his head. If he wanted to get Jacob out of here, he’d have to use his strongest weapon: his mind.
A thought suddenly appeared in his mind: Why was Jacob in here in the first place? Even though Alexander fully admitted he knew little about him, he could deduce that the guy knew very little about mechanical things. He’d never seen him around here before, and when Alexander turned to look at him he could see the confusion in his eyes as he looked at his drone. The guy couldn’t tell the ass-end of a hammer apart from the front. There was no way he came in here for a legitimate reason about work. However, an attention-starved liar like him would probably come in here for something nefarious and attention-getting: a practical joke, of sorts. Heh. The school authorities wouldn’t like to hear that, would they? Maybe a little exercise in blackmail could get the man gone.
“Well, Jacob, you are in fact standing in front of one of the geniuses of your time,” Alexander retorted in a caustic tone. “I know you’re not in here to do anything legitimate. Someone as deprived of attention as you probably came in here for something big. Something that’ll grab the eyes of everyone in the Academy. A practical joke, perhaps?”
Alexander took a breath. “I see that screwdriver in your hands. So what’s your big joke, huh? Gonna break something? Gonna steal something with that screwdriver? Is your big joke gonna be stealing all the screws you can get your grubby little hands on? You’ve probably got contraband in your pocket right now!” Alexander exclaimed, with a kind of triumph in his voice that bled over into sheer arrogance. “I’ll tell you what. We don’t like each other very much, that’s for certain, but I’m not above making a bargain with you. If you leave this workshop right fucking now and don’t come back, I won’t tell the school authorities that you’re going around stealing school property. Do we have a deal?”
Alexander brought his hand forward, waiting for a shake. He was good for his word, too. Hopefully Jacob would take it and be on his way.
What the fuck.
No, seriously... what the hell? How did this guy know? Had one of his co-conspirators been running their mouth about the plan? What else did this guy know? All these questions and more swirled around the inside of Jacob's skull like a swarm of angry bees as he did his best to maintain his composure, gritting his teeth slightly behind his (now fake) smile.
What a shame - they had just barely gotten started, and he was already having such a great time. Not that he hadn't experienced his entertainment being prematurely halted a million times before, but it was still disappointing. Jacob felt a petulant sense of indignation as he pondered the situation, not unlike one might expect from a child who had his toys unceremoniously taken away.
He could stay and try make it work anyway, but the effort to reward ratio was hardly worth it. Even if the evidence against him was flimsy, it was obvious which one of them would be believed. It was hardly fair, but he was used to it at this point. He had slipped out of worse predicaments before, but the experience of actually dealing with a hostile authority figure was one that he'd prefer to avoid at all costs.
Jacob sighed as he pushed himself away from the table, taking a moment to get his bearings before speaking in most condescending tone he could muster.
"Well, I'm afraid that I have no idea what you're talking about there. Far be it from me to suggest that you may be engaging in a bit of projection there, but..."
There was a brief pause, the accusation hanging in the air before Jacob picked up the conversation once again.
"...anyway, it's been fun chatting with you, but I really must be going. I have an important meeting to get to, and the consequences of missing it would be... let's just say they'd be rather dire. There isn't any time to be arguing, unfortunately, so..."
Jacob gripped Alexander's hand, revulsion rising within him as he clasped his other hand around like in one of those used car salesman handshakes he had seen in a couple youtube videos. Without waiting for a response, he turned to leave, calling out a simple "see you later" as he made his way out the door and down the hallway.
((Jacob Lang continued elsewhere))
No, seriously... what the hell? How did this guy know? Had one of his co-conspirators been running their mouth about the plan? What else did this guy know? All these questions and more swirled around the inside of Jacob's skull like a swarm of angry bees as he did his best to maintain his composure, gritting his teeth slightly behind his (now fake) smile.
What a shame - they had just barely gotten started, and he was already having such a great time. Not that he hadn't experienced his entertainment being prematurely halted a million times before, but it was still disappointing. Jacob felt a petulant sense of indignation as he pondered the situation, not unlike one might expect from a child who had his toys unceremoniously taken away.
He could stay and try make it work anyway, but the effort to reward ratio was hardly worth it. Even if the evidence against him was flimsy, it was obvious which one of them would be believed. It was hardly fair, but he was used to it at this point. He had slipped out of worse predicaments before, but the experience of actually dealing with a hostile authority figure was one that he'd prefer to avoid at all costs.
Jacob sighed as he pushed himself away from the table, taking a moment to get his bearings before speaking in most condescending tone he could muster.
"Well, I'm afraid that I have no idea what you're talking about there. Far be it from me to suggest that you may be engaging in a bit of projection there, but..."
There was a brief pause, the accusation hanging in the air before Jacob picked up the conversation once again.
"...anyway, it's been fun chatting with you, but I really must be going. I have an important meeting to get to, and the consequences of missing it would be... let's just say they'd be rather dire. There isn't any time to be arguing, unfortunately, so..."
Jacob gripped Alexander's hand, revulsion rising within him as he clasped his other hand around like in one of those used car salesman handshakes he had seen in a couple youtube videos. Without waiting for a response, he turned to leave, calling out a simple "see you later" as he made his way out the door and down the hallway.
((Jacob Lang continued elsewhere))
Alexander watched Jacob leave the workshop with a mixture of triumph and relief. Heh. He’d done it. His citadel was secure. A wide smile crossed his face. He couldn’t be bothered to think about Jacob’s comment of projecting. It was nothing but the bluster of a man who felt the sting of defeat and wanted to soften the blow. Alexander took his seat, stretching out his back as he sat down.
Eventually, his ear-splitting grin reverted back into its natural state: a small frown. Even long after Jacob had left, he still couldn’t think of anything to improve his project with. He checked his watch. Damn! Free period was almost over. Alexander hurriedly packed up his tools and his project and set them aside carefully. He grimaced, knowing that he had gotten unfortunately little done on his project. He knew he had until graduation to finish it, but he still felt the need to finish it quickly. He couldn’t make up a wasted free period.
Alexander finished packing and grabbed the remainder of his stuff. It was time to head home. He bid a brief goodbye to the workshop before he pushed the door open and made his exit.
((Alexander Hawthorne continued elsewhere))
Eventually, his ear-splitting grin reverted back into its natural state: a small frown. Even long after Jacob had left, he still couldn’t think of anything to improve his project with. He checked his watch. Damn! Free period was almost over. Alexander hurriedly packed up his tools and his project and set them aside carefully. He grimaced, knowing that he had gotten unfortunately little done on his project. He knew he had until graduation to finish it, but he still felt the need to finish it quickly. He couldn’t make up a wasted free period.
Alexander finished packing and grabbed the remainder of his stuff. It was time to head home. He bid a brief goodbye to the workshop before he pushed the door open and made his exit.
((Alexander Hawthorne continued elsewhere))