Artistically Disastrous

[COININ CLISTE]

According to the schoolboard of the New York district, students were required to have at least one art credit. Whether it be a literal art class, drama, stage craft---they needed to have it. And a literal art class seemed like the less nerve wracking option--she would't have to get up infront of anyone and display herself, which sounded fair. Plus, there was mathmatics in art, wasn't there? So it shouldn't be too hard.

Coinin arrived to class a little earlier than expected. Her high school back in Ireland was relitively small, and easy to navigate. This large academy was a little more complicated, so she arrived early so she wouldn't be late. She introduced herself to the teacher, who stumbled a bit over her name. At first, the teacher said 'Coin-In', like some kind of freaking machine slot. So Coinin corrected her--it was more like 'Coleen', but due to her accent, it still confused the teacher. they settled on her nickname, Bunny, and the student was directed to a seat that was empty at a table where two students would be positioned.

Bunny sighed, and retreated to the stool. She set her backpack on the floor, and hoisted herself onto the stool. Other students began to shuffle in, and Bunny just kept her head down. She didn't want to talk to them...well she did, but would they understand her? She had a thick accent, and after that disaster with the teacher, she didn't want to cause anymore confusion.

Bunny put her forehead on the table, her arms around her head. America had been an idea to try something new, be a new person, and she was just same old Coinin. Bound to be the quiet outcast kid, once again. She sighed, and sat up again, Her fingers twiddled the four-leaf cover, and Claddagh charms on the delicate chain around her thin neck. With curious brown eyes, she watched some of the girls file in.

A few of them had streaks in their hair, and looked more suited for a rock concert, than an art class. And a few with their shining, straight hair, short skirts, and tight polos filed in. Idly, bunny touched her hair--a messy ponytail flopping on the side of her head. Maybe she should straighten it too?

Each person that shuffled into the class just brought her more and more dread. No one took a seat next to her. Maybe that was an assigned seat? Or maybe no one wanted to be near the nerdy looking girl. The girl with no makeup, the one that didn't put too much thought into her clothes. Was it really too late to run out of the classroom. Maybe she could claim a stomach bug, go home and change?

Tags: Bennyyy!
Outfit:Nerdy chic.

[BENNY MOORE]

Lately, Benny had started to feel like he was losing control of his entire life. He honestly didn't know what it was about everything that he liked that made it so they felt the need to up and leave. Like Darcy. Darcy was in fact the perfect example.

Benny liked to think that he had had a pretty stable friendship with her in the years since he had met her. He liked to think that she felt the same way about him, and that she considered him a very kind, compassionate person. He liked to think that, in a perfect world, this would entail him to something a bit more than friendship. Even just one taste of something more than friendship, a chance to prove his worth. In a fair and just society, shouldn't he have the right to prove his love for this girl? Shouldn't he be entitled to just one date, just one kiss?

But no, it was apparent that by some cruel law decided at some unknown time by the powers that be, Benny was destined never to be anything more than a lapdog best friend to the girl that he wanted more than anything else in the world.

That's why he had been so looking forward to art class, really. It tended to have a cathartic effect on him, making him forget all his troubles and letting him get his head on straight, or at least that was the general effect. He had no idea really anymore if anything could get him out of the horrendous funk he had settled into. Was there really anything to pick him back up when his entire purpose for existence had been snatched out of his reach?

Wandering dismally into the classroom, he dropped his materials into the first open chair he saw, which just so happened to be directly next to a girl he didn't recognize. It was rather odd, since Benny had assumed he had gotten to know the faces of the other artists by the mere power of osmosis over the years as he worked alongside them, but he didn't think much of it. If all else in his life was going, why shouldn't his powers of recognition get a little wonky as well?

"Would you mind terribly if I sat here? I mean, I know there's other seats, but I'd really rather not have to walk farther than I need to, right?" It was a bit mean, and needlessly rude, but Benny wasn't in the best of spirits that day, so the girl would have to deal with the caustic personality.

[COININ CLISTE]

Why was he moving closer? Why on God's green earth was that boy moving closer. Please don't sit here. Please don't sit here. Please don't sit here. Coinin chanted over and over in her mind. When he opened his mouth to speak, she stared at him. Her mouth agape, open and closing like a fish out of water. She cleared her throat, and slid her bag to the other side, away from the stool. She just nodded at him, and stared down at the table.

He didn't look particularly happy. Maybe he wasn't happy at having to share a desk. After all, if this spot was empty--he was use to having all that extra space. And now had to share it with a weird girl with a weird accent. "I don't mind." She mumbled, quickly turning her gaze down to the desk. Bunny drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly through her mose.

The Irish girl looked back at Benny and opened her mouth for a moment, then shut it again. Would it hurt to make a new friend? The worst that could happen was he totally shut her down, and she was stuck sitting next to him the entire rest of the year. Then again, he didn't look happy. Did he have a bad day? Or was he one of those brooding guys? "Uhm, what's your name? I figure if we're going to be sitting next to each other, might as well know each other's names...right?" Bunny spoke slowly, knowing her accent could be a bit of a doozy.

She winced, and wasn't sure of what to do. Offer her hand? Or was that too guyish? How did Americans greet each other? Was it the same? A handshake, maybe a wave? Idly, she found herself tugging on a loose strand of hair, and blinking up at the kid that would now be her desk-buddy. Bunny lowered her hand from her hair, and picked at the table idly, and looked away from Benny. "Unless you'd rather uh, be left alone. You know. I could totally do that." She nodded, glancing at him sideways, putting her hand up on the side of her face, pretending she was sheilding herself from Benny. She then lowered her hand, offering a sheepish smile. She wasn't terribly funny. Why did she do that? She was such a nerd. That's why she didn't have friends. Because she was a nerd. Books, math, studying, and stupid jokes. Those were her forte, and not popular making things. Great. There went her one outward chance of trying to make a friend. Exploded, right in her face.

[BENNY MOORE]

Shit. It was totally confirmed now. Benny was a complete asshole. Was he really so off-putting that this poor little girl felt the need to move to a different table? Sure, he could be a little gruff, but that was just because he was tired, and frankly, more than a little depressed. Did that really make people want to get themselves as far away from him as utterly possible? It was wretched, really, that he had sot totally lost his people skills somewhere along the way in his adoration for Darcy. He had been so totally obsessed with her for the past five years of his life that he had completely disregarded pretty much every other skill for human interaction that didn't involve that fabulous Hawaiian.

"Shit, no, I mean, you don't have to move." he attempted to backwheel quickly. Really, what more had he been looking for than a friend, someone to help him talk about his feelings for Darcy and work through the stupid obsession that had crept up inside of him?

"Uh, I'm Benny, y'know, by the way." He wanted to mentally kick himself for being so awkward and unlikeable. THIS was exactly why people wanted to move away from him, because he couldn't make conversation for the life of him! WHY SHOULD she want to stick around with a guy who first bitches her out just because he was too lazy to move to a different table, and then is too awkward to talk coherently? It was atrocious, that's what it was.

"So, umm,. are you new? Because I haven't really seen you around in art class before. I mean, if you aren't new, than I'm totally sorry for not knowing who you are, but I just figured..." He trailed off, horribly flustered and awkard.

[COININ CLISTE]

This boy was all over the place. He was outwardly as nervous and awkward as she felt on the inside. She scuffed the bottom of her flats on the rungs of the stool she was perched on. She stared up at him with large brown eyes that seemed to droop at the outside corners, giving her the effect of constant sad eyes. Even when she was happy, or content, she always did look a bit sad. Instead, she offered a meek smile in response to him backpeddling.

"Coini---" She paused. That could cause some confusion. The same confusion that the teacher had had with the name. "Bunny." She blurted, and continued to stare at him, before clearing her throat. "You can call me Bunny. It's nice to meet you Benny." Benny and Bunny. For some reason it was funny to her, but she wouldn't exactly be able to explain how it was funny.

"And yeah, I just transferred in from Ireland, it's my first day. So I'm still trying to get use to the differences here in the States." She mumbled, just as embarassed, her shoulders scrunching up. She idly picked up the pen next to her notebook, and began scribbling a flower on the front cover. Her lips were tight, like she was holding her breath, her chest puffed up. She set her pen down and let out a sigh, "I'm sorry, this was awkward, wasn't it? I'm just a bit tired, still getting use to the...time differences. I just got in a few days ago." She rambled, before her breath caught in her throat. Bunny wanted a hole to open up under her stool, and swallow her alive. She was completely awkward, uncomfortable, and craving the comfort of familiarity.

"Is there a project we're doing that I need to catch up, or...?" She asked, still staring at her notebook. "The teacher sort of brushed me off, I'm not sure she understood me very well." Her other hand flapped infront of her mouth, "Accent and all, it's not easy to understand at first." Bunny continued on, her voice a bit quiet, more like she was talking to herself than to Benny. A lot of the time she had to repeat herself, speak slowly, or force herself into an awkward American accent, just so she could be understood. Back home her accent wasn't that heavy, it was soft, and light, and musical. Here in the states it felt awkward, clumsy, and ugly.

[tig]

"Aren't we suppose to be in the letters and numbers class?" Mackenzie made a conscious effort not to answer Tigger aloud. People already thought she was strange, no need to encourage this.

Okay, so technically she was suppose to be in algebra. But seriously? Algebra? When was she ever going to use that in real life? No way no way, she could seriously be doing something cooler. LIKE!? Hanging out with her Benji-button of course. Now, some might get the impression that when she calls Benjamin Matthew Moore her Benji-button, this implied they were dating. Well, they were wrong. Her and Benji were just friends, best friends. Just because a girl was best friends with a guy, that didn't mean she was sleeping with him. Not that he wasn't cute or anything. It was mostly due to a strong suspicion that her dear best friend was in fact a homosexual...

Go figure, right?

Anywho...

Her red boots clicked down the hall as Mackenzie tried to remember what class he was in. Art, she was pretty sure art... sort of. Yes. Today's colors seemed to be a mixture of fair heather gray and bright cherry red. A red bow in her black hair, gray star tights, bright red bubble shorts, a gray long sleeved shirt, a red shark back pack, a silver heart necklace, red m&m earrings. There was an obvious theme going on, right down to the vivacious red lipstick on her curled lips. No special occasion was required for Mackenzie Blare to look like a hundred bucks, it's just how she rolled.

Tip toeing in late, the teacher looked deeply immersed in a game of solitaire at his computer, allowing her to slip in basically unnoticed. God bless the failing education system. Her bright blue eyes found Benji, who seemed in the midst of awkward conversation with a pretty brunette. A pretty brunette that Mackenzie didn't know.... hrm. No, that would just not due at all. Sitting down, Mackenzie turned off her iPod, pulling the knitted cat ear head phones off, careful not to mess up her hair. "You know, a pig can have an orgasm for up to thirty minutes." She said, grinning at Benji as if they had been immersed in a deep conversation about the sexual habits of pigs for hours. "Puts quite a spin on Charlotte calling Wilbur 'Some Pig' eh, Benji?" Mackenzie's eyes looked over to the strange girl that she did not know.

She was pretty, but drawn in. If she sat straighter, people would be able to see her natural lithe-ness better. She'd look fabulous in a scoop neck gown, definitely softer shades. Like a moth, graceful, but invisible.

Anywho again.

"Hi! I'm Mackenzie. You can call me Kenny. And what are you two thespians up too? Working hard I see." School was mot on Mackenzie's list of important things. No, it was more or less a social rink for the young girl. A place to hang out, get out of her dorm, stretch her legs. Her eyes went back to Benji, whose scruff was coming in, and glasses sat precariously on his nose. She resisted the urge to push them up to their proper place. Some little voice in her head telling her some nonsense about boundaries.

"I like them." Tigger announced, bringing her mind back to the two as a collective group. It would be rude to leave the girl out, after all. "Though they seem a bit glum, Bubblegum." They did. It bother Mackenzie how much they seemed to... match. But she shrugged this feeling off, grin firmly in place.

OUTFIT

[BENNY MOORE]

He was disgusted with himself. That was the emotion that he was feeling. Disgust. Revulsion. Contempt. Classifying these daily little feelings was quite useful sometimes. It helped him understand exactly what the hell was wrong with him. Sure, it usually ended up being a rather morbid list of emotions, but what could he do about that?

Maybe he could chalk this awful mood up to it being far too earl for him to be functioning properly yet. He had been up practically all night the previous evening talking with Mackenzie about her fashion goals and her plot to get into one of the shows for Project Runway. He doubted there was a single man on Earth who could succesffuly act like he was in a good mood after staying up until 4 AM suggesting ways the girl he liked could meet Tim Gunn and Heidi Klum.

He nodded vaguely at the girl's explanation of how she moved only recently to the States. It was interesting, truly it was, but he had the nagging feeling that he had an inappropriately distant expression on his face. God, she was definitely going to think that he was some kind of rude American pig, and he was going to give the entire country a bad name because she was new here and would assume that he was by far the norm and that no one would ever pay attention to her.

He hated his paranoia and over-active imagination sometimes. He really did.

"I wouldn't worry about the accent, uh, Bunny, I really wouldn't," he began. "People will get used to it after a while, and Mr. Christinat isn't exactly known for pronouncing names correctly, let alone dissecting accents. There isn't a ny project though, we're just working on our own things. He might give us one by the end of the semester thou-"

He trailed off as she sat down at their table with him. Honestly, he wasn't even surprised at this point. She often decided to just pop in at a moments notice and join him in class. Most of his teachers were used to it at this point, and barely batted an eye when they saw her suddenly pop up in the middle of class time.

He couldn't help but snort in laughter when she brought up her little fact and asked him his opinion. He had no idea how to reply, but he was pretty sure she didn't want him to anyway. She generally managed to come up with these types of factoids as ways to get conversation started. He could only hope that they had humor in Ireland and that Bunny would understand.

"Well, I mean, uh, yeah. You know. Art stuff," he answered her, grinning from ear to ear. It was embarassing, but he couldnt help it. She just had that effect on him.

[COININ CLISTE]

She did notice the far away expression on his face, and it just made her feel more awkward than anything. Bunny was better off on her own, anyway. She could tend to her things a little more, maybe if she was clever, she could plant something inside of her tiny little flat in New York. Instead, she listened, but began sketching a little box on her notebook, with flowers poking out of it.

Bunny jumped when someone else sat down, and she blinked at the very...very pretty girl that just sat with them. Color flared to life in her cheeks--she wasn't as much of a prude as most English were, but mentioning pig orgasms was enough to make the Irish girl blush. She shifted uncomfortably under Mackenzie's gaze, "Thespian?" She asked quietly, now a little more nervous than when it had just been her and Benny. "Isn't that...for the actors? Unless it means something elses here." She mumbled, more to herself than to anyone else. "Oh, um..my name's Bunny." She replied, glancing back at Mackenzie, before dipping her head down.

That's when she noticed it. Benny seemed to almost...radiate once this girl was around. Bunny sat up, and looked at Benji, then glanced at Darcy. He was grinning just from her strange words, then meeting someone else. She bit the inside of her cheeks, her lips pursing together, fighting back a smile when she lowered her eyes and began to draw more flowers. Her pink cheeks were round, trying to keep her smile from breaking out on her face, and she placed her elbow on the table, her hand casually pressed agianst her mouth. Only a few minutes, and it was as obvious as the fact the sky was blue, that there was something in Mackenzie that Benny liked, because he was way...way happy to see her.

[tig]

Ones perspective was their reality. It was one of those quips Kenny had heard her Father say once upon a time. In Mackenzie Blaire world, Benji Moore was her childhood best friend, her partner in crime, her best guy. But no where in her world had she even really considered him to be a boyfriend. For a multitude of reasons, truly. That whole him being gay thing really just scratched the deal off the list completely. So when she saw him light up, in Zee's mind, it was purely innocent. "Well, I mean, uh, yeah. You know. Art stuff." Art stuff. Benji could do art stuff all day, everyday.

Bunny, as the girl was aptly named, looked very much like she would like to run off into a whole and hide for a bit. Poor thing. "Thespian?" Mackenzie's head tilted a little, wondering if she had said it right. "Isn't that...for the actors? Unless it means something else here." Oh, well, that was embarrassing. Once again Mackenzie's endearment for big words was squashed by her lack of being really all that smart.

"Oh no, no, no, you're probably right." Mackenzie said, her row of white teeth on full display out of her grin. "I suppose that's what I get for cheating of Benji Button in Grammar. Is that grammar? I dunno. Truth be told, I more or less copy his homework for every class, don't I Benji?" It was like she was sheepishly admitting to taking the cookies out of the cookie jar, with the flippant air she held. "Ah well, point is, I'm not a wordificationizer, so I often mean them one way, but it turns out the technical meaning put forth by The Man says it's something different. The Man being that smug jerk Webster who made all the dictionaries." As she explained, her red lips curled wider, her blue eyes tinkling with enjoyment. What a fun conversation! She was not at all sorry for using that word in the wrong context, oh no. "Besides, isn't it a fun word to say? Thespian. Thessssssssssspian. Thespian."

Quick with the ADD, Mackenzie found another topic to bounce to by her testing of the word thespian. "You know what word is hideous to say? Ointment. Give it a go. Ointment. Ugh, what a disgusting word. Ointment! It's like the rapist word of the English language. Though, oddly, App-ointment is not that bad, is it?" Pulling out a redbull from her bag (because that's exactly what she needed), she took a drink, looking at them expectantly to contribute to the conversation.

[BENNY MOORE]

This is what he had loved about Mackenzie since he had met her. She had that....that....bubbly persona about her. She just didn't care if she wasn't book smart or brilliant, she was content simply with enjoying life as it happened. It was just so different from what his mother had always raised him to be: that shy, awkward kid who concentrated on his good grades and nothing else. She was the antithesis to everything that he had been raised to be, and yet he loved her more than anything else in the entire world. The exuberance that she practically excreted was contagious. It picked him up out of the droopy depressive states he was wont to fall into and let him feel better, at least until he remembered that he could never have her and the feelings that he harbored for her would never be returned.

For now, however, he was in the blissful stage, experiencing the normal contact high he got whenever Mackenzie showed up. His social awkwardness just sort of melted away, like he was a butterfly emerging from the cocoon to stretch out his outgoing wings and learn to fly through conversations with ease. Sure, maybe he laughed a bit louder than was socially acceptable at the admittedly dumb joke Mackenzie had made about words sounding weird (something he had never really though of before in all those English classes where Mackenzie would copy off of him shamelessly) but so what? At least he was laughing, right? And this way he could hope to help this new little Irish girl make friends. Who could manage to stay reserved and unfriendly in the presence of Mackenzie?

"Oh, god, you can't forget about the other ones!" He barked at her childishly. He had completely abandoned his art at this point. Why bother sketching still lifes when Mackenzie was there to make life so much more interesting? "There's also words like 'secretion' and 'moist.' Like, who wants to say those? Who comes up with those weird words anyway?"

He shot a grin at Bunny, trying his best to make sure he payed attention to the other girl in the conversation instead of being one-sidedly obsessed with Mackenzie as per usual.

[COININ CLISTE]

Bunny was almost completely lost in the conversation. It was almost like being an outsider looking in. "I think the class is called English..." She chirped quietly.

Grammar class? It was almost kinda funny, but Coinin kept her head down mostly, scratching on her notebook with her pen.
A couple other of the classmates were glancing at the weird bunch at the table, but didn't seem to give it much thought. When she tuned back in, they were suddenly talking about how words could be disgusting. Her brows furrowed over warm, brown eyes, glancing sideways at Benny.

He seemed to be excited enough, moreso than when he discovered the newgirl at his table. Oh, jesus christ it was so obvious. When he glanced at her, Bunny returned an awkward smile, her brows raising up. She shifted her posture, folding her hands on the table, and leaned in, "I've got one for you both," She dipped her head down, leaning towards the center of the table, as if it were some big reveal. "Squish." She then leaned back, closing her eyes with a nod. The lilt in her accent made the word seem even more obscene.

She peeked one eye open, her lips puckering, as though she tasted something sour, before her expression relaxed, and she left a smile in place. Bunny then leaned down to her bag, and pulled out a sketchbook, placing it in her lap, while her pencil scratched over it, glancing up periodically at Mackenzie and Benny, "I'm listening--I promise. I just got an idea."