February 23rd, 1891 — Library

In the month since revealing her intentions to leave school to Mr. Chatham a slow resentment towards those more fortunate had begun to brew within her. She was still perfectly pleasant to those friends she remained close to, but there were others — Mr. Wildsmith in particular — who irked her to no end. It was terribly unfair that she — one of the best in her class — would be unable to achieve her dreams because of finances when so many put in such little effort. So many slacked off, took their education for granted, meanwhile she knew her days to be numbered unless a miracle were to occur.

The opened charms book was that of a NEWT's level student. If she was to not return after next year, then Alice was determined to copy down as many spells as she could fit on her limited pages. She would forge her own continued education, even if it wasn't perfect, and figure out another path to being a healer. She could be a mediwitch, perhaps, though that seemed so unsatisfying. Alice didn't want to patch people up just to send them onto more capable people. She wanted to be a capable person. She wanted to stay for her bloody NEWTs.

With a huff of frustration, Alice brushed her mane of fiery curls from her face and continued on with her efforts. There was no time to waste.

  

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Cameron had plenty of time to waste. He was avoiding just about anyone who had a reason to care about his whereabouts. He was unsure whether he'd be able to hide his mood; it had been a little over a week since his fight with Sloane had left them in an uncertain position, and he did not want to encounter her lest she put an end to their romance once and for all.

That meant hiding out in the library some days. As a fifth year it was expected, and anyone who cared enough to talk to him knew better than to interrupt him when reading (since interrupting him would provide him the perfect distraction from studying, and all his friends had spent the past year pushing him to study). He wasn't really reading, though, mostly because he didn't enjoy it but also because he didn't want to give his friends the satisfaction of angering him into doing his work. (And how was he supposed to throw himself a pity-party this summer if he actuallypassed his OWLs?)

It had been fifteen minutes on the dot since he'd opened one book, so he promptly closed it, glanced up, and decided to go in search of another. He wandered the rows and rows of shelves, holding his book tight against his chest, until he reached a dead end. There was a table there, stacked high with books, and then there was - Alice. He froze and stared at her, completely expressionless.

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She almost didn't hear the footsteps heading towards her hidden alcove. Almost. At the last second, she turned to see who was approaching her chosen spot, only to immediately wish she hadn't. Cameron Gillenwater: master procrastinator and the worst of them all of taking his education for granted. Alice rolled her eyes and turned back to her book. Hopefully, he'd get whatever he was looking for and continue avoiding her as he'd done for the better part of their school year thus far.

  

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She looked up at him, their eyes met, and she turned away. He did so, too, turning his attention back to the bookshelf, though it was impossible to focus on the books his fingertips brushed across when Alice was right there.

It must have been less than a minute before he gave up and glanced over in her direction, even if it felt like ten.

"I need to talk to you," he said slowly, unsure of where he intended to go with this.

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Alice remained keenly aware that he was still standing there like a fool even as she turned back to her replications. He hadn't so much as looked in her direction since their fight, so why was today different? Why didn't he continue on like she knew they both wanted him to do? (Was it likely because of Sloane and the argument they'd had: most likely. Did Alice believe anything genuine would come from his mouth? Not a chance.)

Without so much as turning to look at him, Alice said lowly and pointedly, "you're already doing that."

  

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There was something so dry, so uncaring in her tone that ignited his temper, and it threatened to flare. It was only the reminder that they were in the library that cooled it, yet his expression shifted into one of undeniable irritation (not that she noticed. She wasn't even looking at him).

"You know, I'm trying." Trying what? He wasn't sure himself. "And you're being... ugh." He turned and shoved a book back onto the shelf, knocking two or three onto the floor in its place. He didn't bother to pick them up.

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Even as he spoke again Alice didn't bother to face him. Too much time had passed and resentment to build for her to care much for him either way. All she had asked for was time to process and trust, and he'd gone and insulted the very dream she could never achieve. Alice was rarely bitter, but everything about him set it off within her.

She was ready to ignore the temper tantrum he was beginning to have until the heavy thud of books hit the floor. "Watch what you're doing for once," she warned, casting him an angry glance before looking back towards the direction he came. Should he get her kicked from the library today he would have hell to pay.

  

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Sloane still thought this could be fixed, and he was eager to find her (sometime, when he was less angry) to tell her that she was wrong.

She whipped his head around to meet Alice's gaze, his expression nearly mirroring hers. No, they wouldn't be friends again. There was too much anger, too much hostility between them—but he'd already known that. He knew it would be like this. She looked away, and he didn't move to pick up the books.

"What's the fucking point?" he responded in a quiet voice, more to himself than her. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "No wonder Sloane's been so sad lately."

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The following 1 user Likes Cameron Gillenwater's post:1 user Likes Cameron Gillenwater's post
   Sloane Bixby

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The tension that rippled through her body did so so instantly that the quill she held snapped in her hand. How dare he use such language around her? Around any lady?! Alice knew herself to be beneath her friends, knew she really wasn't more better off than most whores, but she didn't deserve such uncalled for behavior. Especially since it was him that started this in the first place!

The mention of Sloane, though, softened her. Alice had noticed her friend was struggling this past week and struggled herself with knowing whether or not she ought to approach her about it. Sloane had other outlets, Cameron, Lester, Edison, Sisse and Calla. She didn't need Alice.

Or did she?

"Just as I told Sloane, I've no problem with her." Alice explained hesitantly, not really thinking Cameron deserving of any explanation at all. "So if that's all you came to tell me I've stupid work to do."

The following 1 user Likes Alice Dawson's post:1 user Likes Alice Dawson's post
   Cameron Gillenwater

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Cameron audibly scoffed. "But don't you?" he asked, his eyes intensely focused on one of the books on the shelf. "But it's not like you have to worry about it now anyways. You got what you wanted. She's done with me." That wasn't true, per se, but Cameron had convinced himself of it. Sloane had said she couldn't do it—their relationship—for much longer, not if it was going to affect their friendships.

And it had. It was. It would continue to. Alice hated him too much, he was too upset with her, and Sloane was right in the middle of it.

"But I'm glad you have your stupid work to distract you from everything else that's going on." Because if she hadn't noticed, their entire friend group was up in flames and it was because she'd decided to take her anger with him out on everyone else.

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   Alice Dawson

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"What are you talking about?!" She demanded in a shouted whisper. Never had she asked Sloane to choose, nor had she expected it. All Alice requested was the respect to not force what wasn't functional. "Got what I wanted? Are you mad?" She pushed, turning in her seat to face him with bitter anger etched across her face.

She could have screamed. If he hadn't noticed, Alice had all but extracted herself from their friends because of him. So, the blame wasn't solely on her shoulders. "If she's done with you you've no one to blame but your stupid self." She hissed.

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   Cameron Gillenwater, Sloane Bixby

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Amazing set by Bee!

Cameron was unfazed by her anger—encouraged by it, even. It was much easier to justify his own reactions when she was having equally terrible ones, and it was easier to feel bad for himself when she was angry with him.

"Yeah, you got what you wanted," he replied, as if it was a given. He wasn't sure exactly what she'd wanted, but he wasn't about to explain himself. She'd wanted him miserable, probably. She also probably wanted he and Sloane separate, since she'd been on edge since they got together. There were plenty of things she could have wanted, all that involved his misery. "And you wanted me to tell you the truth, so you're getting it. She's done with me because she feels like she has to choose between us, all because you can't be friends with her anymore."

(That was not the truth. Sloane was pissed at him, too, and he knew it—but in his mind, it was Alice who was the root of all of this. If she would have just continued being her friend, without holding their relationship over Sloane's head, this would not be happening.)

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Alice was fuming and knew this was only going to spiral further out of control. Dropping her broken quill into her bag, she hastily began to pack her books. Cameron was entirely misinformed, as Alice had never asked for Sloane to choose. Merlin's Beard, if she had she wouldn't have isolated herself from her friends! She would've forced a decision months ago.

"She's done with you because you're nothing more than a cruel child," she spat. "Something doesn't go your way and you explode like a toddler." She finished throwing her books into her bag and stood. "Grow up, Mr. Gillenwater. The rest of us already have." She said with a sense of finality as she made to walk past him.

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   Sloane Bixby

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Cruel? Cruel? Cameron was lots of things, but he wasn't that. She moved to leave, and he wasn't about to let her go running off without him getting in a word. "I don't know what you want. I don't know what you wanted then, either," he protested, grabbing hold of her arm but letting go before she could swing at him like he assumed she would. He moved quick and positioned himself between her and the only path out of the aisle, his brows knitted in frustration.

"You're the one who got mad at me first. You broke off our friendship," he argued, continuing to block her exist. "And now I can't grow up?" His face fell into a frown. His relationship with Sloane was doomed, and it was all because of Alice. Because she'd been unreasonable, she'd thought she had a right to know about everything, and because Sloane valued her friendship more than she valued her relationship with him.

"I just wanted her to be happy while everyone else was making her cry. I'm sorry if that makes me a terrible person." And that didn't count for anything, did it?

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"Like you care at all what I want or wanted." Alice spat as she yanked her arm from his grip. He'd done the same the last time they fought, and she had nearly knocked herself into a wall trying to pull away from him. "If that — if I had mattered at all to you we wouldn't be here." She stepped away from him, shrugging her bag further up her shoulder. "But I don't. And that's fine. But how dare you accuse me of so many lies. I never asked Sloane to choose. I've distanced myself from everyone so they wouldn't have to, either."

Were she a tea kettle steam would be blowing from her ears. Her cheeks were flushed with fury and her eyes wet with bitter tears. She refused to rehash their initial argument, refused to allow him a glimpse of vulnerability from her. None of it mattered, anyway.

"Sloane cried because I enforced the same boundary to her that you both asked of me. Because I repeatedly told her that she and I are fine but you and I are not. And I've no interest in being near someone who is as vindictive and mean as you."

  

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Amazing set by Bee!

Cameron scoffed again, this time shaking his head right where she could see him. "You know, I did care what you wanted. We were—" Best friends, practically siblings, so close all fit the message he wanted to communicate, but neither seemed right to say now. "We weren't always like this. You just - just got mad that day, and you never talked to me again. What did you want?" he asked, because it still made no sense to him.

(Now that he was beginning to think about it, society might be onto something when they said boys and girls couldn't be friends. It wasn't because they were incompatible, or that they couldn't like the same things, but because girls were so confusing.)

"And I'm not vindictive or mean! You got mad first!" He heard a loud shhhh from somewhere on the other side of one of the shelves, forcing him to take a break and recollect his senses. He lowered his voice into a harsh whisper. "You talk as if I should know what I did, yet you're the one who ignored me. You're the one who didn't talk to anyone after our fight."

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   Alice Dawson

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