soldtoarmenians: (computer)
soldtoarmenians ([personal profile] soldtoarmenians) wrote2006-06-01 05:15 pm

Flamingo A-4, Thursday evening

Xander is sitting on his bed cross-legged, laptop open in front of him. That owl thing was...yeah, ok, it had to be said - for the birds, so even if it means he has to trek up to school to actually send it, his next letter out is going by e-mail. Which he can at least compose here.

    Dear Willow:

    You'd be proud of me; I taught a whole new generation of us-es to lie about where they've been. Not-you was not there and so was not competing with you on any peanut-butter related issues, mm'kay?

    Isabel's got a booooooyfriend, BTW. Well, he is if we go by the 'one date and everybody starts calling you that so might as wel---



He's going to finish that sentence, really, except then there's a knock on his wall, right next to the half-open curtain.

__
[Locked like a locked thing to he who makes Xander speak in present-tense.]

[identity profile] bridge-carson.livejournal.com 2006-06-01 09:54 pm (UTC)(link)
A knock, followed by a "Hi!" and a Bridge peering in to the alcove.

[identity profile] bridge-carson.livejournal.com 2006-06-01 09:59 pm (UTC)(link)
"Not much," Bridge shrugs. "Um. I was thinking. Did you want to maybe... go somewhere tonight? Somewhere with, you know, walls that reach all the way to the ceiling?"

[identity profile] bridge-carson.livejournal.com 2006-06-01 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"Not so much, no." Bridge shakes his head. "I was thinking more of the kind of place where there's just you and me."

[identity profile] bridge-carson.livejournal.com 2006-06-01 10:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"I've heard there's this, uh, abandoned shack. In the woods. We could... go find it."