originallutece: (032)
Rosalind Lutece ([personal profile] originallutece) wrote in [personal profile] completelycrazy 2023-11-12 02:03 am (UTC)

[There's a pause.]

If we're doing it at the bar, I'm not promising I'll attempt the skill myself. But I'll watch, and practice it privately.

[It's too guarded, she knows, for she frowns at the notebook after she writes that. Then all at once she crosses it out, a swift line drawn through the words as she amends:]

If you teach me to make a fool of myself, I'll ensure you regret it. And I will pick out the beer; I don't trust the spirit who hands them out. He means well, I suppose, but that matters little if I end up inadvertently attempting to chug apple juice.

[Another pause.]

What is it like? When you act average. Or . . . fit in, I suppose. Is it enjoyable?

[That's such an imprecise question, but she doesn't quite know how to say what she's thinking. Are you happier like that? Is it easier? She'll never regret her intelligence, not even for an instant— but it would be a lie to say she'd never looked upon others with a certain shade of envy. Happiness seemed to come easily to the (white, rich) people of Columbia, so stupidly oblivious they couldn't conceive of despair.]

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