Nothing Else Matters (open)

Kayla had been at Highgrove for just over a week now, and she hated it. From the moment she'd been bundled out of her uncle's car, despite her quiet, purely verbal protests, she'd made it clear she didn't want to be here, but no-one cared. Back home she could hole up in her room, wriggle under the covers with her laptop and lose herself online, in a place where no-one judged her for who she was, and she could be a different person every day if she so desired. Here though, in the real world, she was just a stupid, half blind little nerd, too dumb to get good grades (At least by her father's definition of 'good', straight As weren't even close to that standard) and not even smart enough for someone like her uncle to want to keep around. That was why he'd sent her here after all, wasn't it? Her father always said she was a dumb gook, no good for anything, it looked like he was right.

Her laptop had been confiscated when she'd arrived here at Highgrove, and with it her lighter, not to mention everything even vaguely sharp she'd had stashed in her rather meagre luggage. They'd taken every coping mechanism she had for dealing with her invariably awful grades, as well has her most treasured possession. She'd half expected them to take her glasses while they were at it, just to really reinforce how useless she was. They hadn't, thankfully, and they'd even been nice enough to leave her hoodie. The hood almost ever came down unless she was told to, as she was in most lessons, but here, or in her dorm room (Not that it was hers, she couldn't believe how many other girls she was supposed to share with, it had made her cry at first), no-one would tell her that. She hoped. Her roommates terrified her, she'd done her absolute best to avoid them, which was why she was out here, in the former chapel turned library.

She spent every free moment out here, surrounded by piles and piles of textbooks. If she could just study a bit harder, get her grades up that last percent or two, maybe her uncle would take her back. She could go home, remember what privacy was, and maybe even try to talk to her cousins again. She didn't think she'd said more than four words since her arrival here, besides answering questions in classes anyway, and getting a few answers right when she was asked directly really didn't make her a good girl, just lucky. The workings of Trigonometry or Pythagoras was the kind of thing everyone here knew, she was sure of it, just because a lot of them didn't speak up in maths, or pretended they couldn't list the long term consequences of the Cuban missile crisis in History certainly didn't mean she could relax. If anything, she had to study more.

Closing her eyes, she set aside her history textbook, and took off her glasses for a moment while she rubbed at her face. She wasn't sleeping anything like enough, but how could she? While she was asleep, she couldn't study, and while it wasn't possible for her to read in the dark, as much as she tried, nothing stopped her from going over what she needed to know for the day's lessons in her head the night before. She knew she needed a torch if she really wanted to catch up with the rest of the class and start getting the kind of grades her father wanted her to, the kind she'd almost never been able to achieve. Even a hundred percent wasn't enough for him, most of the time, and just because he was long dead didn't mean she could let her standards slip. Putting her glasses back on and hunching over another textbook, physics this time, she did her best to ignore the sound of oncoming footsteps. Virtually impossible for someone with her condition, as the footsteps drew closer, the girl in the green hoodie began to tremble. People were never a good thing to have to deal with, even in a library, and especially crazy people like the kids here. This would end badly, she knew it.

Lizzy had gone to the library in search of a book, which sounded far easier than it had turned out to be. While she had liked to read before her ‘encounter’ with the Slater’s somewhere along the line she’d started to get worried about it. She wasn’t sure what about it, but it was there all the same. So, after visiting the fiction section and eliminating anything with parents, excessive manners or sex she had realised that perhaps today was not the day to do this. She’d leave it until she could look at Goodnight Mr Tom didn’t make her feel like her stomach had discovered the delights of tap dancing. Which had led her to the non-fiction section. Maybe there’d be something interesting. Or something useful. Or Nin, although he was unlikely to have been filed next to an encyclopaedia. She could live in hope, anyway. She wanted to go and find him but it was a big place, she’d go after she found a book.

She’d noticed the trembling girl and stopped. What could she do? Half of her wanted to leave her alone, she was obviously busy and scared and didn’t want to talk, but there was definitely something wrong. It really was none of her business. That was what she’d say at least. None of her business, seen and not heard, go and clean something. Except she’d be more sinister. And that was an understatement.

Between the internal battle between herself and Mrs Slater and the fact she’d just been made aware she was pulling again by way of accidentally cutting off the blood flow in her finger, causing it to turn purple, she decided she’d try, at least. Even if she had to run away and hyperventilate. Shoving the hair into her pocket, she steeled herself and walked a little closer. “Excuse me?” This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Why did she have to be so face-achingly polite? “Are you alright? You seemed a little shaken, can I help at all?”

She inwardly cringed as she said it. She’d only become aware after she’d left the Slater’s exactly how weird it sounded. Mostly by way of people falling off their chairs laughing at her, but still. You lived and learned. Lizzy eyed the pile of textbooks as if they were involved in some kind of conspiracy. She wouldn’t mention it though. It was rude to remark on other people’s choice of activities. Perhaps this girl enjoyed taking in vast amounts of information, and who was she to have an opinion either way on the topic? She was certainly very dedicated. She probably wouldn’t be very impressed to have been disturbed by someone sticking their nose where it didn’t belong and interrupting her. Particularly when that someone’s head resembled a partially plucked chicken. She suddenly felt even more self conscious, clasping her hands to try and avoid pulling. There was no need to complicate this any more than she had already.

It wasn't enough that whoever this was had come over into Kayla's little part of the library, where she spent so much time studying, but she had to try and strike up a conversation too. How was Kayla supposed to respond to that? She didn't speak to anyone she wasn't related to if she thought she could avoid it, who knew what they'd think of her? The last thing she needed was strangers taunting her over how stupid she was, beating her up like her father always used to, or worse, getting themselves in trouble because of her. They wouldn't go the same was as Ali had, but this place had seclusion rooms, and she'd seen other kids in classes who were on so many drugs they could barely stand. What would she do if someone got in trouble like that because of her? Even if it was for hitting her or something, she knew she'd be the one to blame, and she couldn't take that guilt.

The girl kept on talking though, she wasn't going to go away, and she wanted a reply. That meant Kayla would have to actually look up, she'd had more than enough of the ruler across the knuckles, which was her father's preferred punishment for speaking without looking at him, and while she knew that wasn't going to happen here, it wasn't a lesson she could forget. Keeping her hood up, she closed her eyes and slowly raised her head to face the speaker, only opening them again when she was reasonably sure she had her face pointed in the right direction. Blinking a couple of times behind her glasses, she moved her head a little to actually look at the girl, and despite her best efforts, at the sight of the other girl's hair, she gasped. "Sorry." she mumbled immediately afterwards, glancing at the floor for a moment, before forcing her gaze back onto Elizabeth. She had no idea what had happened to her, and wasn't sure she wanted to know. It did make her feel a little guilty about her hood though.

She left it up, for now anyway, unsure if the girl would be upset or angry with her if she revealed a full head of hair. Thankfully, she managed to keep her eyes off of Elizabeth's scalp as she struggled to find the words to reply to the question. "I..." she began, hesitantly. She didn't want to be bothered, but she didn't want to seem rude by sending the girl away. What was she supposed to do? Closing her eyes for a moment, she fought to control her trembling, and at least managed to minimise it, before she opened them again and pushed her glasses back up her nose. "I was...um...I was just studying." she eventually managed to say, her voice quiet, and her southern accent still clear despite the time she'd spent in England. "I'm fine, really." she added, trying to convince herself that wasn't as much of a lie as it felt. "I...um..." she squirmed in her seat, looking down again. "You can help if you want, or you can study too, or..." she trailed off, shrugging. Exhausted as she was, she just needed to keep on working, even if that did mean working witht he English girl.

“It’s alright.” Lizzy realised her hand was on the back of her neck again and clasped them together again, a little tighter this time. “I know it can be quite a shock.” She still jumped out of her skin when she caught sight of her reflection sometimes. Especially when she wasn’t quite ready for it. She didn’t really look in mirrors so much any more. It felt like she was about to come in and criticise everything about her appearance. That always got her stomach churning with anxiety because it was then that she was most likely to get into trouble. Perfect girls did not pull their hair. Perfect girls certainly didn’t pull it enough to be noticed. It always hurt worse when that woman yanked a brush through her hair hard enough to make her scalp feel like it had been raked and noticed patches where her hair was thinner. Perhaps because she was doing the same thing Lizzy would have got thrown into a cupboard for. Perhaps because it felt all wrong when she did it. Most likely a mixture of both, but that wasn’t what she was supposed to be concentrating on right now.

She glanced at the pile of books and although she knew that it was entirely probable this girl only wanted to be left alone, she wanted to help. Even if it did scare the life out of her. But Lizzy knew that this girl wasn’t fine. She wanted to help. Exactly how was beyond her, but she wanted to. Ugh. This was so much easier when it was just her and Nin… “I’d love to help, if that’s alright with you.” No, actually, she wouldn’t. Because, like everything else in life, it brought back memories of Mrs Slater breathing down their necks as she struggled to recall the exact date of whichever historical event Mrs Slater had decided was of utmost importance. But it wasn’t as if she could avoid learning.

Smiling at the girl, she looked at the book closest to her. “Are you studying anything in particular?” For the love of… can’t you hear yourself? “My name’s Lizzy, by the way.” Stop sitting so straight, at least try and sound like a human and not some kind of polite robot… She felt all wrong. Like she was being torn in two, except she knew exactly which side she wanted to be on. Her problem was not that she wanted to follow all those stupid rules, just that they were so ingrained that she couldn’t shake them off. To put it lightly. She could feel her hands itching to get back in her hair and discreetly pressed her fingernails into the palms of her hands. No. Not with someone looking. Definitely not with someone new. She smiled. She wanted to be friendly and chatty and helpful and all that she could think was that she must seem so stuck up and stiff and awkward… She’d go and find Nin. The second this girl laughed herself unconscious or ran away or realised Lizzy really wasn’t about to be much use and told her to get out.

"No, it isn't." Kayla replied quietly as the girl spoke. It was never alright to respond like that to someone else's appearance, though it had been her mother who taught her that one, not her father. If anything, she felt that made the lesson all the more important, regardless of how her father never obeyed it. He never told her not to either, so she had no reason to think it was a bad thing. "I'm, I..." she said, hesitantly, fidgeting again, her gaze moving to the girl's hair again. Apologising wasn't going to be enough, and they'd taken her lighter, so she couldn't even make certain she remembered what she'd done wrong. Glancing down at her hoodie, she bit her lip, doubting it would fit the much taller girl. If she'd thought it possible, she'd have given it to her in the hopes that would be enough to show her sincerity. The Brit must think she was a monster.

"It's fine." she mumbled as the girl spoke again, lying through her teeth. She didn't really know how this girl could help someone as stupid as her, what was she going to say when she couldn't keep up with anything she was told? Hopefully, when she realised just what an idiot Kayla was, she'd go away and...do whatever it was smart kids did all day. Not hang around anywhere near her seemed to be the most popular thing, and she was fine with that. If they didn't bother her, she could do her own thing. Who knew? maybe when she got her laptop back, she could even get back to some of her second life accounts, or find some new people online to RP with. Of course, that assumed she'd have internet access, and she had no idea how likely that might be. Maybe they restricted it to a reward for people who weren't terminally stupid. That wouldn't be good for her.

"I'm studying Physics." she said, looking down at her page of scrawled calculations, every one correct, though she was certain they were wrong. "Force calculations at the moment." she added, looking to her textbook for a moment, then back to the girl. "my name is Kayla, it's nice to meet you, Lizzy." she replied, forcing a nervous smile. She'd obviously been coached to speak like that, someone as clearly terrified as her wasn't going to go introducing themselves so politely if she had a choice about it. Looking back down to her book, and her work, she closed her eyes again, waiting for Lizzie to sit down. "Um..." she said, hesitantly, "How good are you at Physics?" she asked, quietly, knowing full well that the girl would be better at everything than her. It wasn't difficult to achieve that though, Kayla was about as intelligent as pond scum, as her father had been so happy to tell her.

“I don’t mind.” Trying to put the other girl at ease, Lizzy wasn’t sure that was completely true. But if it helped… “I’m used to it by now, there are very few people who aren’t surprised by this.” She gestured at her head and folded her hands again, trying to make sure she wasn’t about to make this girl any more uncomfortable. Not that either of them seemed to be particularly happy with the situation. She should probably leave, but she didn’t want to make her feel it was her fault. She’d stay a little longer. Maybe something would come up, and then they could go their separate ways and she could pretend she hadn’t completely failed at acting like a human.

Lizzy peered at the calculations and tried to remember how this worked. This was probably in her head somewhere… somehow in the stress of meeting people and everything her brain had decided physics was in no way essential. Well, knowing about physics. She was just grateful her feet were still on the floor. Floating around would probably only make things even more complicated. “It’s nice to meet you, Kayla.” She sounded awkward, but years of practice had ensured that she said it without actually thinking. You had to show you remembered their name. Or something. The reason had got lost somewhere, but that didn’t mean she could just stop.

She sat down and thought. How good was she at physics? She had yet to get her head around how good everyone else was so she could compare. “I manage, generally. It’s not one of my favourites.” Well, that was true at least. Mostly. Managing here was definitely easier, but you didn’t have one teacher for every two pupils. Lizzy was doing her best to be unremarkable at the moment. She would be content to be bland and ignored after so long being classed as the weird girl with bald patches who lived in the last century. Making friends could wait. She could talk to Nin, and that was good enough for her. She felt a little guilty about that, when there was Kayla here. She seemed nice, if anxious, but Lizzy was making this whole thing incredibly awkward. “What’s your favourite subject?” It’d keep the conversation going, at least.

Lizzy sounded awkward, but Kayla was assuming that was more because she wasn't used to talking to someone so clearly mentally deficient than because of any problems she might have herself. Everything was always her fault, she'd learned that a long, long time ago, no-one else was going to be doing anything wrong while she was around. She knew her work was being stared at too, and while she couldn't see any problems with it, she thought the other girl's expression made it pretty clear she'd messed up, badly. Frowning at her own idiocy, she scanned the page again, and let her shoulders slump. She'd have to hand this rubbish in to the teachers as it was, hopefully they'd tell her where she'd gone wrong and how to stay out of that pitfall the next time. Of course, that assumed her feeble mind could actually comprehend what she was doing wrong, which was...unlikely.

If physics wasn't even Lizzy's favourite subject, and she was already infinitely better at it than Kayla, the Korean was certain that the girl would utterly destroy her in whatever subject she did turn out to be best at. Or any other for that matter. "Um...I think...History is my favourite. Or...um...creative writing." she replied to the question, still mumbling. Soft subjects, she was sure. In history, all she had to do was memorise some dates and events, and the assorted causes and effects of course, and as for creative writing? Well, that was basically her only hobby. Every time she RPed, she was working on that class. Every time she pretended she was someone else, someone smart, someone who was worth more than the dirt on their shoes, she was working on something she could use in that class. Maybe one day she could even get something published, assuming she could ever write something that wasn't atrocious. Unlikely.

"Um...how about you?" she asked, managing to raise her voice a little, though it was still a little on the quiet side. Was she even allowed to ask something like that? The girl must already hate her, and now she was asking personal questions like that? She was practically begging for a book to the face, or a punch, or whatever it was English girls did to people they hated. "Um...do....you like to write?" she asked, practically in a squeak. Asking that, intending to ask if they could trade works, was bordering on suicidal, wasn't it?