hushush || BETH

[ETHAN THADDEUS FLETCHER]

"Look here, son. I had a tough time in school, too. Kids poked fun at me 'cause I had bad acne- you're not the only one who has-"

[/color] The stout man didn't have a chance to finish, because his youth company angrily raised a hand- almost as though he were commanding silence, still... the boy's eyes looked somewhat watery. Tears? Well, it was Ethan Fletcher, he wasn't known to be fond or comfortable around authority figures.

"I didn't say I was the only damn kid who has problems, Mr. Garrison- why did you call me down here? I'm missing pre-cal, and since you're so in-tune with my life, I'd bet you know that I shouldn't be missing that class, ah?"[/color] Ethan's voice shook slightly, his shoulders were obviously tense- and it seemed as though he were trying to disappear into the seat he had been told to sit down in. The door to the office was open, and he was extremely tempted to make a run for it. But that would have meant a call home... And a call home would mean that his parents would get involved- and they'd bitch and moan... God, he hated this situation. It seemed like every goddamn month they found a reason to call him down. A pretty shitty one, too.

"Son, this is what I'm talking about- you never let people try to-"[/color]

"I never let people try to help?! Is that what you were going to say, Mr. Garrison?"[/color] His voice shook more, and his hands had moved to grip the arms of the chairs, lips trembling a little bit as his head ducked towards his shoulders, looking up at the stout man from the corner of his eyes. To a stranger- it might have seemed as though Ethan had just been hit. His cheeks were reddened, his eyes misty, his lips trembling... The picture perfect expression of fear and discomfort.

"No son, it's just-"[/color]

"Pleeaasee, stop calling me 'son'!"[/color] Ethan whimpered, looking more uncomfortable than anything else. A small tear slithered down his cheek, but he quickly used the sleeve of his dark blue jacket to wipe it away, shaking in the same manner as a nervous horse. This was almost as bad as being yelled at by his parents. Almost. The only thing his parents had on Mr. Garrison was that they could call him 'son'- and that he had to live with them. They could tell him what to do- plan his future... Th thought made his lips tremble more obviously, which resulted in an odd look from Mr. Garrison.

"I uh... I didn't mean anything by it- just.. Ya gotta... Man up? Get through it?"[/color]

"... Man up? Jesus Christ- just let me go back to class?"[/color] Ethan mumbled, sniffing a little bit and looking away, lips still trembling in the pout he currently wore. People like Mr. Garrison just didn't get it. Sure- their methods of telling stories of their own trouble worked with dumbasses, but Ethan didn't believe himself to be that unintelligent. If he was called down because of how his own life was going- why did the damn assistant principal rant about his own?

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

tag - Beth
words - 530, sorry for the shortness.
clothes - Baggy jeans, a shirt, and a blue zip-up jacket.
notes -
credits - RawrDinosaur@caution.[/size]

[ELIZABETH ANN ANDERSON]

Elizabeth Anderson appeared in the doorway of the assistant principal’s office. The stout man standing behind the desk glanced at her momentarily before continuing his conversation with the blonde-haired boy in the chair across from him. The conversation seemed like it was almost over, but Elizabeth knew better than that. The guidance counselor had known the assistant principal for years; she knew that he was a drawn-out sort of person and that nothing he did was brief, “except for sex,” according to his wife. The aged woman looked at the man from her place in the doorway before she finally cleared her throat and began to speak.

“Paul,” she interrupted. Her quiet voice pushed its way subtly into the conversation, and the stout man peered at her over his glasses. She made eye contact and raised her brows to show the severity of her interruption. Paul Garrison was the type of man who hated being interrupted and would put you in your place if you even though about interrupting him. But realizing who had interrupted him and the probable reason why she had done it, Mr. Garrison backed down. A sigh escaped through the man’s nose, and he lowered his eyes to his desk. Instead of reprimanding her and telling her she should be setting a better example for her students, he straightened a small stack of papers absentmindedly on his desk and set them aside. He lifted his head and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes in a familiar fashion. Once the glasses were perched on the brim of his nose, he gave her a look as if to inquire her reason for interrupting him.

“I saw Rick in the hall. He gave me the look and told me I should probably come see you?” Her question was better suited as a statement, but that was the least of the counselor’s concerns. When teachers said she was needed in the office and gave her “the look,” it meant that it had something to do with Ethan Fletcher. He was one of the more emotional students and had trouble maintaining composure in the midst of class, especially when it came to adults or people who had power over him. She broke eye contact with Mr. Garrison and looked at the blonde-haired boy sitting in the chair across from the assistant principal. Her body moved a few inches into the room, but she left a considerable amount of distance between herself and the two gentlemen in the room.

She now had a better look of the young boy’s face. His face looked like it was on fire, and tears formed paths down his face. An evident frown appeared on her face, and she gazed at Paul in an attempt to engage him in nonverbal conversation. He looked at her for a moment, but looked back at the boy before he had a chance to read the expressions on Elizabeth’s face. She let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “Paul, I’d like to speak with Ethan in my office, if you don’t mind.” To people who did not know her, many would have thought that she was losing her temper. To those who did know her, it was her way of getting to the point. Her job as the guidance counselor was to give guidance and comfort those who needed. Ethan was in need of that guidance and that comfort, and she just wanted to do her job.

Before he had a chance to say another word, Elizabeth left the assistant principal’s office and walked towards her own. She stood outside the door for a few moments in search of her office key. She had to try three of the school keys before figuring out which one was hers. Once she found the right key, she locked her office and stepped inside. As usual, things were in disarray; it looked like a hurricane had blown through her office and mixed everything up. That was not the case; Elizabeth was just a chaotic, disorganized person. She left the office door open as she walked behind her desk, kicked off her heeled shoes, and plopped down into her seat. She crossed her legs comfortably and reached into the small refrigerator and removed a half-empty bottle of Diet Coke. This would be her only vice until the final bell rang and she was able to go home and have a cigarette. Soda and cigarettes: two very bad vices.

notes: sorry it’s a little crappy. i had trouble trying to start it, and that’s the part that determines if my post will be okay or not.
clothes: something like this