Post by mackenzie on Dec 19, 2010 1:07:50 GMT -5
Mackenzie huffed out a blank sigh as she pressed a palm to the classroom door and pushed. She kept a bubble of hope in her stomach as she peeked through the doorway and, for the first time that morning, it didn’t pop. Stepping into the empty room, she allowed herself a small victory dance. She had been searching for nearly a half-hour and it had all been fruitless up until now.
Mackenzie just couldn’t do work in the library. It was too quiet, too stuffy. She felt too…forced to do work. Plus it wasn’t as cozy as having a whole room to yourself. But, apparently, Mackenzie wasn’t the only one holding that sentiment. Since she had started her trek through Kostine, she hadn’t found a single unoccupied classroom. It was getting to a disastrous point. Mackenzie had allowed herself to search the rest of the current hall before resolving that she would just head to the dorm. She was beyond glad that she had made this discovery; an off-shoot of one of the larger chemistry classrooms. The studying and work that she had to do that day was just not dorm-caliber work. This was some serious spread-out-on-a-professor’s-desk and get-work-done-level work.
Pulling her books from her bag, Mackenzie settled herself into the swivel chair. Once she had all that she needed arranged in front of her, she stopped. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to just be and breathe. Nearly every study session started this way. She breathed in and then out, setting a steady rhythm. Fingertips resting lightly on the desktop, she took in the scent of chalk and dust and that unmistakable smell of classroom. Listening for a minute, she heard far-off voice and giggles, sharing gossip no doubt. If only that could be her Saturday morning; something lazy and easy and fun. But, then again, Macks had never really been one for gossip or giggling.
Tuning away from the distant sounds, she honed in on the closer ones. The still of the classroom, the gentle breeze just outside, carrying birdcalls and catcalls from a group of seniors near the window on the grounds. Mackenzie shook her head and allowed herself a laugh before opening her eyes. Right. Enough zen. Time to get down to work. Opening her textbook, she started in on the problem sets of the assignments. Mechanical pencil scritching over clean white paper. It was like music to Macks’ ears. Soon enough she lost herself in the neat rows of equations and sums, loving the way they lined up in the faint blue lines on the page.
A smile came to Mackenzie’s lips of its own volition. Something about working through mathematical equations calmed her. The dread she had felt over the impending English essay had sunken low into her chest. Earlier it was like some sick, cold presence slipping through her stomach to harden and solidify in her throat. Science and math melted that away through, letting it puddle harmlessly until she had to tackle it later that day. What would have really helped, though, would be a good solid hour tinkering through an engine.
Mackenzie’s smile widened as her grip on the pencil grew looser. Daydreaming about fixing some carburetor or something. Oil over her fingers and nose and in her hair, tied back to a messy bun with fuzzy strands hanging over her cheeks. Her Papa leaning over behind her, pointing out something she had missed or something, giving pointers. Max over in the side office, leaning back in his chair with his feet kicked up on the desk, phone caught between his ear and shoulder as he talked to some customer that yes, they were open even this early on Saturday mornin’ so why not bring your ol’ Camaro over and we’ll see what the old man can’t do with it?
Nostalgia played out over Mackenzie’s face before she snapped herself out of it. Sighing softly, she shook her head. That was then, that was home. This was now, Kostine Academy. Not failing out of Kostine Academy to be specific. She allowed her fingers to briefly tangle in the chain of the locket around her neck, holding a picture of her Papa and Max on each side. It was the only piece of jewelry she ever wore, really. Thumbing over the face of the pendent, she gave herself exactly ten seconds to miss her family before falling back onto the comfortable surface of an equation. Math was easy and neat. Gave her something to focus on. The pseudo-lead of the mechanical pencil etching into stark paper distracted her.
been a long cold 767 words. lonely winter finished. feels like years open/eric?. since its been clear outfit. slowly melting feels all right for Mac's intro. ^^. its alright REAL SLIM SHADY !? @ caution 2.0[/color].[/blockquote][/size]
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