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ajremixSo I only vaguely know what I'm going to do for chapter 3, after that I have no clue. Maybe I'll make all subsequent updates based on prompts...
Also I am now on tumblr which is, at this moment, nothing but RvB stuff.
Title: Freelancer Academy 2
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2704
Characters: Wash, York, North, Carolina
Summary: At the end of the week it's not so much the school is any less strange as it is Wash is getting acclimated.
Through a combination of practice and other students being more alert, Wash managed to avoid running into anyone as he crossed the Green, nose mostly buried in a creased, finger-worn novella. It was a practice the Councilor had stopped him to disapprove of but it served Wash well enough through his life so far; he wasn't about to quit a good thing.
Of course it also caused him to jump when someone honked at him in the middle of crossing the Academy's one street so maybe there was some wisdom in the Councilor's lecture after all.
Wash looked blankly at the minibus for a moment before quickly skittering out of the way. He'd never seen any vehicles going in or out of the school but he supposed they had to- he arrive in a car, after all, and someone had to come and supply the place. But this bus was new to him- fairly nondescript asides from the boldly lettered Freelancer Academy and the crest decaled along the sides. He watched in mild curiosity as the thing followed the road up to the main building, pulled to the curb and opened its door.
Most of the kids that came streaming out Wash had never seen before. Others he almost didn't recognize as classmates, all looking starkly different outside of uniform. Hell, he even watched a laughing boy being light-heartedly shoved down the steps before he realized it was York in ratty jeans and a windbreaker. The presence of an eyepatch over his left eye (as in on his forehead above his eye, in easy position to flip down real quick if needed) was particularly disorienting. Its presence gave Wash pause- he didn't know York even owned a patch (let alone one as dull and plain as that), he never gave the impression that his damaged eye caused him any problems or embarrassment before. Even when he was reading or paying actual attention in class, York merely closed his left like it was no big deal to make focusing easier.
"Hey!" York called out and Wash had no other choice but to meet him halfway (he tried ignoring York in public once, that didn't work out well for his dignity as the older boy apparently abandoned his own long ago). "That's sweet of you- picking me up after work."
"Work?"
York looped an arm around Wash's neck, his go-to style of dragging his smaller roommate wherever. Wash went along with it for the simple fact there was no way to stop York from being York. "Yeah, Wednesday and Friday afternoons I do the work study thing. You know about that, right?"
"Yeah." The idea of a chance at getting practical experience and classroom credit (and a partial paycheck) was one of the reasons Wash agreed to go to the Academy. "I don't remember you going last Wednesday."
"Omega wasn't all that understanding about me skipping detention Monday." The dorm's stairwell really wasn't wide enough to accommodate one healthy sized young adult and one skinny sized young adult half bent sideways but York somehow made it work with only moderate amounts of Wash's hip banging the rails.
"So what do you do?" Wash couldn't imagine someone like his roommate being out of anyone's supervision for long, let alone for an entire workshift. He hoped whoever York worked for was understanding about the whole background thing, though he supposed anyone that participated in a work study program with the Academy knew what they were getting into.
"Clock and watch repair. It's pretty awesome."
"I... wouldn't have pegged you for the repair type."
"What can I say- I like working with my hands. And there's something about putting all sorts of little gears and whatnot together, figuring out how to make them work that appeals to me."
Wash supposed that was part of what made York such a successful lockpick. "You plan on working there forever?"
"Meh. I wouldn't mind, but I'll take a better gig if I can find one. Maybe an actual clockmaker." York kicked the door to their room open before letting Wash go to throw himself in his chair with a flourish and a full rotation. "Delta- y'know, the maths teacher? -he's offered to pay me if I can make him a wall clock. 'Course it's kind of slow going since I have to work on it on break or between repairs, but still."
"Sounds fun." Wash couldn't wait until he was allowed to do a work study even if he didn't know what he wanted to do. After almost a week at the Academy- and getting used to his roommate -he was really looking forward to spending the foreseeable future there. "Hey- what do people normally do on the weekends around here?"
To his surprise, York looked a little guilty. He took his time pulling off the eyepatch and jacket, tossing them on his bed before saying, "Sorry, man, I won't be hanging around tomorrow. Already made plans to see the game with some other students before I even knew I'd be getting a roommate and with the first month being a probational period and all..."
Probation? "Wait, what?"
Mismatched eyes blinked at him, "No one told you? No new student is allowed off campus the first month they're here. It's a probational period- make sure you're adjusting to school life and don't cause trouble before you can go into town on the weekends. If not, well, you're basically grounded. Any students cause enough trouble during the week, they get grounded, too."
Wash's brow furrowed. Since he'd been here York had managed to start a water balloon fight in the dorms, replaced all the whiteboard markers with permanent ones and somehow got a desk stuck in a tree (not even York was certain how that happened). And yet... "So how are you still allowed out?"
York just gave his winningest smile. "Because everyone loves me. And also the Councilor says I'm less likely to cause trouble in public- where I actually will get in trouble -than I will on campus. Plus they like to think I have chaperones."
"A chaperone like a teacher or like North?"
"Pfft- teachers cost too much. And not North. Well, sometimes North. When he's not chaperoning his sister. Nah, I usually hang out with another friend of mine on the weekends: Carolina."
A hazy face framed in red came to Wash's mind. The only Carolina he recalled hearing about was usually in relation to being an overachiever. York apparently had a knack for making friends with the studious sort. "So what," he asked, swinging his bag up to his bunk before kicking off his shoes, "is she from Carolina then?"
That got him an odd look. "No."
"Some kind of amalgamation of words that makes sense to only you?"
That look deepened. "No- Carolina's her name."
"Last name?"
"What kind of last name is 'Carolina'?"
Wash paused halfway up the ladder to his bed, trying to wrap his brain around this. "So... her name is Carolina and you just call her that?"
"Um... yeah?"
"No nickname whatsoever?"
"She rejected all the ones I tried to give her."
"Somehow I can't see that stopping you. You nickname everyone!" Wash's eyes widened, "Holy shit- do you have a crush on her?"
In answer, York turned bright red.
"You do! That's why you don't cause trouble when you hang out! You're trying to impress her or something!"
The older boy spluttered, half the things coming out of his mouth trying to be denials, the other half deflections, all of them failing to make any sense whatsoever. North was right- York really couldn't lie.
"What's going on? It sounds like someone's throttling a cat in here."
Wash turned to the newcomer in the doorway with a huge grin- which probably looked a little maniacal judging from the way North's eyebrows jumped -and said, "Did you know York's got a crush?"
North's grin mirrored Wash's a little more sharply, deviously. "Ah, you found out about Carolina. I'm surprised he told you."
"I figured it out."
"Have you seen them together?"
"No."
"It's actually pretty sickening. He flirts like she's the last woman alive but apparently he's too shy, of all things, to actually tell her."
"I'm right. Here!" York managed, still looking apoplectic.
"York? Shy?" Wash turned to his roommate and said in a perfect, deadpan delivery, "That is the most adorable thing ever. Of all time."
For a minute York just sat there, glaring at Wash with his face scrunched up, trying and failing to come up with a scathing retort. In the end he just tackled the other boy off the ladder, wrestling him to the ground. North stood in the doorway- occasionally sidestepping a flailed limb -and gave advice when needed.
Eventually a new- and female -voice came in. "What's going on?"
Wash found himself being rolled over in some bastardized reverse half Nelson monstrosity with the brunt of York's weight forcing him face down on the floor. "Hey, Carolina!" He didn't even sound winded, the cockbite.
"York and Wash just got to the homoerotic portion of their rooming situation."
There was a bit of a jolt as, Wash assumed, York tried to kick North. From the cursing, he didn't succeed. "We're fighting. Though it'd be more accurate to say it's a total ass-kicking."
"So I see," was the newcomer's drawled reply. "Shouldn't the class rep be doing something?"
"I'm taking bets on who's going to win."
"You expect someone to bet against York? On a kid that weighs- what? A buck and a quarter?"
"I dunno- Wash may be scrawny but he strikes me as a scrapper."
There was a muffled 'thank you!' from somewhere under York's armpit.
"C'mon," Carolina said, "I think he's starting to turn purple. Let the poor guy up."
"Fine. But only because you asked nicely and I'd probably get held back if I kill my roommate."
"Yes, York. That is absolutely why you should not choke someone to death. Because you'll be held back." York was being pushed off and Wash found he could breathe again. He gave a gasp/cough (mostly for effect, really) and tilted his head to look at what were possibly the ugliest slippers he ever saw, complete with a big, hideously floppy flower on the outer sides. He looked up passed long legs clad in black leggings, a standard Academy skirt and a partially unbuttoned blouse. Beyond that was a rather pretty young woman with vibrant red hair and a beauty mark on her chin. "You must be the new roommate York's been gushing about."
"After this," York quipped, "all gushing is off. I'll be anti-gushing. Or gushing anti-Wash, which ever is easier."
"With how much you've been talking about him, I'm starting to think he's your new favorite."
He put a hand to his chest as if Carolina's words struck him melodramatically. "No one could ever replace you in my eyes! In fact, to make up for my neglect, I insist you and Wash trade rooms. Right now. Let's go, buddy- start packing your things." York grabbed one of Wash's arms- who was still flopped out on the floor -and began dragging him out.
Carolina's mouth was a stern line but her eyes were definitely dancing in amusement. "Yeah right- Four-Seven would eat the poor boy alive."
"Who knows, he might like it!"
"Would you?"
York grinned broadly, eyebrows waggling in a way that made Wash hope he never saw it happen again. "Depends on who does the eating."
Highly disturbed by this weird, over-the-top-leering and bad-innuendo-laden version of his roommate, Wash looked up at North for help or... or something.
North just looked back down and gave Wash a 'See what I mean?' kind of look. Figuring he'd been left to fend for himself, Wash spun around on his back and hooked his legs around York's ankles, making him fall halfway into the hall where he got mildly curious passing glances from everyone else already desensitized to his antics.
York pushed up on his hands, looking at the smaller boy with a decidedly unholy smile. "Oh-hoho! The gauntlet- she has been thrown."
A be-slippered foot planted square between the shoulder blades, however, flattened whatever violence had been incoming. "You can throw your gauntlets after you answer the question I came down here for." Carolina leaned down to tug on a bit of York's hair, making him crane his neck oddly in an attempt to look at her. "What time are we leaving tomorrow?"
Even though the angle was a little blocked, Wash could've sworn he saw York look guilty again. "I'm, uh... I actually might sorta not go tomorrow," he said slowly.
The other three were blindsided by that. "What? Why?"
Carolina's foot was dislodged as York sat up, leaning back on his palms. "Well, I feel kinda guilty leaving Wash alone on his first weekend here. I mean- the only people he really knows or talks to are me and North and we'll both be gone so... I can find someone to give my ticket to- there's no shortage of sports fans here."
For a long moment no one said anything- Wash found he was actually touched by this gesture even as he felt indignant at the idea that he couldn't survive a day without the older boy. Carolina, slowly, sounding the idea out as her lips formed the words, said, "I could stay in with you guys, if you wanted. We could just catch the game on tv."
"But..." York stuttered and, unable to find a connecting thought, fell silent.
Carolina just smiled down at him and Wash could see the heat pinking York's cheeks. "I don't mind. It's the company that makes the game for me."
Wash very desperately wanted to ask North if York's little crush was reciprocated. And, if it was (really, how was it not?), why didn't she do something about it? Then the reality of the situation hit him: he'd be stuck, all Saturday, between the both of them. Wash blurted out, "No!" before he could stop himself. All eyes turned to him and he did his best not to squirm. "I, uh, I mean you guys don't have to change your plans for me. I've got plenty of books to read and the whole campus to walk around. You'll only be gone for a day so it's not like I'm being abandoned or anything."
York looked unconvinced. "You sure?"
Thankfully, North was there to be the scale-tipper. "He's a big boy, York. He doesn't need you being a mother hen all hours of the day."
"I'm not mother henning! I'm just being, y'know, considerate."
"Well consider he'll probably enjoy a day free of you putting him in headlocks."
There was a reflexive grin and York seemed to let the issue go. "You lie. Everyone loves me putting Wash in headlocks."
"Except maybe Wash."
"I guess that just means you'll have to put someone else in a headlock tomorrow." Carolina then added preemptively, "Not me."
"Or me," North added.
"Awww... Wait- is South still going?"
"I'm afraid my darling sister has managed to ground herself again. I gave her ticket to Four-Seven instead."
"And you're not putting my roommate in a headlock, either. You know she fights dirty."
York flopped on his back like an overdramatic, petulant rug. "Man, my own friends won't even let me have fun."
"You'll live."
"No, I won't. I can feel myself withering and dying as we speak."
"Guess we'll just have to find someone else to give your ticket to. Maybe Wyoming...?"
He glared. "You wouldn't dare."
"If you're going to be as much of a drama queen as him, we may as well."
Wash watched as York went into a rant about the cruelties of his friends and the evilness of fake-Brits and how he was hurt to be compared to him while North and Carolina egged him on. A couple times Wash had to stifle a snort of laughter into his knuckles, especially when a passing someone called York a drama queen, setting him off all over again.
Somehow, during the week, whatever lingering doubts Wash had about joining the school had disappeared.
Also I am now on tumblr which is, at this moment, nothing but RvB stuff.
Title: Freelancer Academy 2
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2704
Characters: Wash, York, North, Carolina
Summary: At the end of the week it's not so much the school is any less strange as it is Wash is getting acclimated.
Through a combination of practice and other students being more alert, Wash managed to avoid running into anyone as he crossed the Green, nose mostly buried in a creased, finger-worn novella. It was a practice the Councilor had stopped him to disapprove of but it served Wash well enough through his life so far; he wasn't about to quit a good thing.
Of course it also caused him to jump when someone honked at him in the middle of crossing the Academy's one street so maybe there was some wisdom in the Councilor's lecture after all.
Wash looked blankly at the minibus for a moment before quickly skittering out of the way. He'd never seen any vehicles going in or out of the school but he supposed they had to- he arrive in a car, after all, and someone had to come and supply the place. But this bus was new to him- fairly nondescript asides from the boldly lettered Freelancer Academy and the crest decaled along the sides. He watched in mild curiosity as the thing followed the road up to the main building, pulled to the curb and opened its door.
Most of the kids that came streaming out Wash had never seen before. Others he almost didn't recognize as classmates, all looking starkly different outside of uniform. Hell, he even watched a laughing boy being light-heartedly shoved down the steps before he realized it was York in ratty jeans and a windbreaker. The presence of an eyepatch over his left eye (as in on his forehead above his eye, in easy position to flip down real quick if needed) was particularly disorienting. Its presence gave Wash pause- he didn't know York even owned a patch (let alone one as dull and plain as that), he never gave the impression that his damaged eye caused him any problems or embarrassment before. Even when he was reading or paying actual attention in class, York merely closed his left like it was no big deal to make focusing easier.
"Hey!" York called out and Wash had no other choice but to meet him halfway (he tried ignoring York in public once, that didn't work out well for his dignity as the older boy apparently abandoned his own long ago). "That's sweet of you- picking me up after work."
"Work?"
York looped an arm around Wash's neck, his go-to style of dragging his smaller roommate wherever. Wash went along with it for the simple fact there was no way to stop York from being York. "Yeah, Wednesday and Friday afternoons I do the work study thing. You know about that, right?"
"Yeah." The idea of a chance at getting practical experience and classroom credit (and a partial paycheck) was one of the reasons Wash agreed to go to the Academy. "I don't remember you going last Wednesday."
"Omega wasn't all that understanding about me skipping detention Monday." The dorm's stairwell really wasn't wide enough to accommodate one healthy sized young adult and one skinny sized young adult half bent sideways but York somehow made it work with only moderate amounts of Wash's hip banging the rails.
"So what do you do?" Wash couldn't imagine someone like his roommate being out of anyone's supervision for long, let alone for an entire workshift. He hoped whoever York worked for was understanding about the whole background thing, though he supposed anyone that participated in a work study program with the Academy knew what they were getting into.
"Clock and watch repair. It's pretty awesome."
"I... wouldn't have pegged you for the repair type."
"What can I say- I like working with my hands. And there's something about putting all sorts of little gears and whatnot together, figuring out how to make them work that appeals to me."
Wash supposed that was part of what made York such a successful lockpick. "You plan on working there forever?"
"Meh. I wouldn't mind, but I'll take a better gig if I can find one. Maybe an actual clockmaker." York kicked the door to their room open before letting Wash go to throw himself in his chair with a flourish and a full rotation. "Delta- y'know, the maths teacher? -he's offered to pay me if I can make him a wall clock. 'Course it's kind of slow going since I have to work on it on break or between repairs, but still."
"Sounds fun." Wash couldn't wait until he was allowed to do a work study even if he didn't know what he wanted to do. After almost a week at the Academy- and getting used to his roommate -he was really looking forward to spending the foreseeable future there. "Hey- what do people normally do on the weekends around here?"
To his surprise, York looked a little guilty. He took his time pulling off the eyepatch and jacket, tossing them on his bed before saying, "Sorry, man, I won't be hanging around tomorrow. Already made plans to see the game with some other students before I even knew I'd be getting a roommate and with the first month being a probational period and all..."
Probation? "Wait, what?"
Mismatched eyes blinked at him, "No one told you? No new student is allowed off campus the first month they're here. It's a probational period- make sure you're adjusting to school life and don't cause trouble before you can go into town on the weekends. If not, well, you're basically grounded. Any students cause enough trouble during the week, they get grounded, too."
Wash's brow furrowed. Since he'd been here York had managed to start a water balloon fight in the dorms, replaced all the whiteboard markers with permanent ones and somehow got a desk stuck in a tree (not even York was certain how that happened). And yet... "So how are you still allowed out?"
York just gave his winningest smile. "Because everyone loves me. And also the Councilor says I'm less likely to cause trouble in public- where I actually will get in trouble -than I will on campus. Plus they like to think I have chaperones."
"A chaperone like a teacher or like North?"
"Pfft- teachers cost too much. And not North. Well, sometimes North. When he's not chaperoning his sister. Nah, I usually hang out with another friend of mine on the weekends: Carolina."
A hazy face framed in red came to Wash's mind. The only Carolina he recalled hearing about was usually in relation to being an overachiever. York apparently had a knack for making friends with the studious sort. "So what," he asked, swinging his bag up to his bunk before kicking off his shoes, "is she from Carolina then?"
That got him an odd look. "No."
"Some kind of amalgamation of words that makes sense to only you?"
That look deepened. "No- Carolina's her name."
"Last name?"
"What kind of last name is 'Carolina'?"
Wash paused halfway up the ladder to his bed, trying to wrap his brain around this. "So... her name is Carolina and you just call her that?"
"Um... yeah?"
"No nickname whatsoever?"
"She rejected all the ones I tried to give her."
"Somehow I can't see that stopping you. You nickname everyone!" Wash's eyes widened, "Holy shit- do you have a crush on her?"
In answer, York turned bright red.
"You do! That's why you don't cause trouble when you hang out! You're trying to impress her or something!"
The older boy spluttered, half the things coming out of his mouth trying to be denials, the other half deflections, all of them failing to make any sense whatsoever. North was right- York really couldn't lie.
"What's going on? It sounds like someone's throttling a cat in here."
Wash turned to the newcomer in the doorway with a huge grin- which probably looked a little maniacal judging from the way North's eyebrows jumped -and said, "Did you know York's got a crush?"
North's grin mirrored Wash's a little more sharply, deviously. "Ah, you found out about Carolina. I'm surprised he told you."
"I figured it out."
"Have you seen them together?"
"No."
"It's actually pretty sickening. He flirts like she's the last woman alive but apparently he's too shy, of all things, to actually tell her."
"I'm right. Here!" York managed, still looking apoplectic.
"York? Shy?" Wash turned to his roommate and said in a perfect, deadpan delivery, "That is the most adorable thing ever. Of all time."
For a minute York just sat there, glaring at Wash with his face scrunched up, trying and failing to come up with a scathing retort. In the end he just tackled the other boy off the ladder, wrestling him to the ground. North stood in the doorway- occasionally sidestepping a flailed limb -and gave advice when needed.
Eventually a new- and female -voice came in. "What's going on?"
Wash found himself being rolled over in some bastardized reverse half Nelson monstrosity with the brunt of York's weight forcing him face down on the floor. "Hey, Carolina!" He didn't even sound winded, the cockbite.
"York and Wash just got to the homoerotic portion of their rooming situation."
There was a bit of a jolt as, Wash assumed, York tried to kick North. From the cursing, he didn't succeed. "We're fighting. Though it'd be more accurate to say it's a total ass-kicking."
"So I see," was the newcomer's drawled reply. "Shouldn't the class rep be doing something?"
"I'm taking bets on who's going to win."
"You expect someone to bet against York? On a kid that weighs- what? A buck and a quarter?"
"I dunno- Wash may be scrawny but he strikes me as a scrapper."
There was a muffled 'thank you!' from somewhere under York's armpit.
"C'mon," Carolina said, "I think he's starting to turn purple. Let the poor guy up."
"Fine. But only because you asked nicely and I'd probably get held back if I kill my roommate."
"Yes, York. That is absolutely why you should not choke someone to death. Because you'll be held back." York was being pushed off and Wash found he could breathe again. He gave a gasp/cough (mostly for effect, really) and tilted his head to look at what were possibly the ugliest slippers he ever saw, complete with a big, hideously floppy flower on the outer sides. He looked up passed long legs clad in black leggings, a standard Academy skirt and a partially unbuttoned blouse. Beyond that was a rather pretty young woman with vibrant red hair and a beauty mark on her chin. "You must be the new roommate York's been gushing about."
"After this," York quipped, "all gushing is off. I'll be anti-gushing. Or gushing anti-Wash, which ever is easier."
"With how much you've been talking about him, I'm starting to think he's your new favorite."
He put a hand to his chest as if Carolina's words struck him melodramatically. "No one could ever replace you in my eyes! In fact, to make up for my neglect, I insist you and Wash trade rooms. Right now. Let's go, buddy- start packing your things." York grabbed one of Wash's arms- who was still flopped out on the floor -and began dragging him out.
Carolina's mouth was a stern line but her eyes were definitely dancing in amusement. "Yeah right- Four-Seven would eat the poor boy alive."
"Who knows, he might like it!"
"Would you?"
York grinned broadly, eyebrows waggling in a way that made Wash hope he never saw it happen again. "Depends on who does the eating."
Highly disturbed by this weird, over-the-top-leering and bad-innuendo-laden version of his roommate, Wash looked up at North for help or... or something.
North just looked back down and gave Wash a 'See what I mean?' kind of look. Figuring he'd been left to fend for himself, Wash spun around on his back and hooked his legs around York's ankles, making him fall halfway into the hall where he got mildly curious passing glances from everyone else already desensitized to his antics.
York pushed up on his hands, looking at the smaller boy with a decidedly unholy smile. "Oh-hoho! The gauntlet- she has been thrown."
A be-slippered foot planted square between the shoulder blades, however, flattened whatever violence had been incoming. "You can throw your gauntlets after you answer the question I came down here for." Carolina leaned down to tug on a bit of York's hair, making him crane his neck oddly in an attempt to look at her. "What time are we leaving tomorrow?"
Even though the angle was a little blocked, Wash could've sworn he saw York look guilty again. "I'm, uh... I actually might sorta not go tomorrow," he said slowly.
The other three were blindsided by that. "What? Why?"
Carolina's foot was dislodged as York sat up, leaning back on his palms. "Well, I feel kinda guilty leaving Wash alone on his first weekend here. I mean- the only people he really knows or talks to are me and North and we'll both be gone so... I can find someone to give my ticket to- there's no shortage of sports fans here."
For a long moment no one said anything- Wash found he was actually touched by this gesture even as he felt indignant at the idea that he couldn't survive a day without the older boy. Carolina, slowly, sounding the idea out as her lips formed the words, said, "I could stay in with you guys, if you wanted. We could just catch the game on tv."
"But..." York stuttered and, unable to find a connecting thought, fell silent.
Carolina just smiled down at him and Wash could see the heat pinking York's cheeks. "I don't mind. It's the company that makes the game for me."
Wash very desperately wanted to ask North if York's little crush was reciprocated. And, if it was (really, how was it not?), why didn't she do something about it? Then the reality of the situation hit him: he'd be stuck, all Saturday, between the both of them. Wash blurted out, "No!" before he could stop himself. All eyes turned to him and he did his best not to squirm. "I, uh, I mean you guys don't have to change your plans for me. I've got plenty of books to read and the whole campus to walk around. You'll only be gone for a day so it's not like I'm being abandoned or anything."
York looked unconvinced. "You sure?"
Thankfully, North was there to be the scale-tipper. "He's a big boy, York. He doesn't need you being a mother hen all hours of the day."
"I'm not mother henning! I'm just being, y'know, considerate."
"Well consider he'll probably enjoy a day free of you putting him in headlocks."
There was a reflexive grin and York seemed to let the issue go. "You lie. Everyone loves me putting Wash in headlocks."
"Except maybe Wash."
"I guess that just means you'll have to put someone else in a headlock tomorrow." Carolina then added preemptively, "Not me."
"Or me," North added.
"Awww... Wait- is South still going?"
"I'm afraid my darling sister has managed to ground herself again. I gave her ticket to Four-Seven instead."
"And you're not putting my roommate in a headlock, either. You know she fights dirty."
York flopped on his back like an overdramatic, petulant rug. "Man, my own friends won't even let me have fun."
"You'll live."
"No, I won't. I can feel myself withering and dying as we speak."
"Guess we'll just have to find someone else to give your ticket to. Maybe Wyoming...?"
He glared. "You wouldn't dare."
"If you're going to be as much of a drama queen as him, we may as well."
Wash watched as York went into a rant about the cruelties of his friends and the evilness of fake-Brits and how he was hurt to be compared to him while North and Carolina egged him on. A couple times Wash had to stifle a snort of laughter into his knuckles, especially when a passing someone called York a drama queen, setting him off all over again.
Somehow, during the week, whatever lingering doubts Wash had about joining the school had disappeared.
