Penny Dalton
New Member
If you hear it from your brother, you better clear it with your mother.
Posts: 8
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Post by Penny Dalton on Dec 30, 2005 14:55:17 GMT -5
The student lounge, who didn't love it? It was something to look forward to, like a reward after you had been dutiful and fulfilled all your obligations. When there was no homework, no recitals, no rehearsals - it was the equivalent of a family room in a regular household. Equipt with a mini-kitchen, it could probably be even equated to a hotel room. Hotel room is to bussiness man, as student lounge is to student.
Penny loved it, as much as she assumed any other person would. She didn't have a lot of free time, but the free time she had: she treasured. Then again, many people who didn't get a lot of times to themselves appreciated it when they could.
She was in an indolent state at the moment, reading a magazine - specifically what magazine was it was hard to tell possibly Seventeen or something of the like - on the couch laying like a paraplegic. Everyone had their time to shine, and their time to be lazy. Even her attire looked a little "lazy", so to speak. Especially for her, seeing her attire..usually looked like she was getting ready for some cheesy after-school special. (Knowing her she probably was.)
Her hair was down, no make-up was on her face, and pair of jeans and tee-shirt adorned her body. As for shoes, keds. It was nothing special at all, and it was like a door had opened. Laziness was grand. |
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Post by shadow on Dec 30, 2005 15:03:17 GMT -5
Lilia hadn't yet ventured to the student lounge. She'd been too busy in the days that she had been here finding the dance studios, and then practicing. If she could dance, she wouldn't even bother doing much else. She was almost obsessional over her dance, to the point where it had almost taken over her life. However, the dance studio was taken for the moment, so she decided that she was going to be a 'normal' American, and go and 'crash' in the student lounge, though she was neither normal nor an American.
She was wearing jeans that hugged her slim figure, showing it off to its best advantage. With this she wore a loose fitting grey dance sweatshirt over a simple white strappy top, and on her feet she had slightly worn trainers. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail, but now she pulled the hairband out, and shaking her head, let her dark hair cascade over her shoulders.
She opened the door to the student lounge. There was only one other person in it. "Hi," she said, getting herself a cup of water from the water machine in the corner and sitting on one of the settees. She pulled her legs under her and looked at the other girl. Lilia smiled. She wanted to much to make friends, and was always smiling. More than almost anything, except perhaps gaining a professional title, she wanted to integrate into society, and not be somewhat of an outcast any more.
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Penny Dalton
New Member
If you hear it from your brother, you better clear it with your mother.
Posts: 8
|
Post by Penny Dalton on Dec 30, 2005 15:06:39 GMT -5
"Hi!" she said, sitting up immediately. It was true, that she usually wouldn't bother if somebody interrupted her when she was resting. Usually, when she decided to fall into a state of languidness her mood followed. But, it was the holiday season. Might as well keep a smile on her face. Next time though, she would probably less..cheerful.
"Merry belated Christmas!" |
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Post by shadow on Dec 31, 2005 9:18:54 GMT -5
Lilia smiled, taking a dance magazine from her bag and absently flicking through it. She didn't say anything else. She'd been speaking too much the past few days, being too outgoing for her own good, and it had caught up with her. Though she wanted to make friends, she was back to her quiet self.
"Yes. Christmas. You also," she said somewhat sadly; it hadn't been very merry for her. This was her third Christmas in America, and each one was worse than the last. She didn't even bother celebrating, as she had no one to celebrate with. She wrote a letter to her parents, and this year she had recieved one from them too, but that was the greatest of the season. At home, like every other Russian, she had celebrated Christmas on the 6th January, and it had been a happy occasion for her and her parents. She didn't want to celebrate it ever again, it was too painful.
Remembering where she was, she fixed a smile on her face, and dug into her bag, finding the letter from her parents. It was very precious; the second she had recieved in three years, and she would keep it in her locker with the other one. But now, discarding her magazine, she read through it again, biting her lip.
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