Vera had no opinion on Christmas. It was a day that commemorated the birth of Jesus Christ. His birth held little to no plausibility in her eyes, which meant that if he never existed, then what was there to commemorate? That is to say, actually existed, and not just in wild tales. Vera had effectively renamed it the Book of Lies because it preached impossibilities as truths, even for a world inhabited by mutants. The Bible. The last book she’d ever recommend to anyone. Unless, of course, they were in the mood for some satirical reading. Then again, Vera was apparently the only person in her immediate circle of friends who had found the Bible ridiculous enough to ensue hilarity. Were it not so universally known as ‘a collection of sacred texts’, she really would have assumed it to be a parody of some sorts. She almost wished it was.
At lunch, when Alice, Grace, Marielle, and even Livia, had begun talking about decorating their own classrooms, Vera had made it very clear that she wasn’t going to join in on the festivities. Not because she was a “sourpuss”, as she’d been called, but because she just didn’t understand it. Alas, somehow she’d been roped into retrieving the box of decorations from one of the art rooms, having been persuaded through a series of “pleases” from the other women. Mostly Grace. Vera took her time getting to the art block, mostly because she knew that once she’d retrieved the box of colourful assortments then she’d have to make her way back to her friends. The art teacher that the room belonged to had already started his vacation, so she’d expected the room to be empty when she finally got there.
Once she’d opened the door and slipped in, a voice made her start. Vera’s eyes sharply scanned the area for a face. They fell upon James, and she blinked, once, like a cat that was still trying to come to terms with the fact that someone else was there – and talking to her. Eventually Vera did as was requested, placing a small hand to the door to close it. James’ obvious disgruntlement, albeit mild, was relatable enough, and she decided it warranted a smile. So she did. A small one. “Are you hiding from all of the festivities too?” She daintily ringed her hands together, stepping further into the room. “I can relate. Mariah Carey has played a total of thirty four times since this morning, you know. I don’t understand it. Suddenly it’s everywhere, as if everyone has been indoctrinated by Mariah Carey overnight.” Vera hesitated. “Except for you and I, apparently.”
“Yeah I guess so... This is the only spot from the school where that song isn’t on repeat -- holiday spirit is infectious.” Was the only explanation James could conjure up for the sudden non-stop sounds of holiday music blasting from various rooms across the academy, “I never think I mind it much and then that time of year comes around and everyone goes insane.” He gave a half-hearted chuckle, his eyes wandering from the woman in the doorway (Keneally, he was almost sure her name was) back to the mindless sketch he’d been working on. It wasn’t an odd sight to see James hiding out from Christmas being shoved in his face considering that involved cheer and joy and there was a rumor going around -- courtesy of Scarlett Niles -- that his ‘wiring’ physically didn’t allow him to smile. Sometimes he had to wonder if that was true, sometimes he surprised himself.
He was suddenly aware that the woman was still here and felt obligated to talk -- that was how it worked, he guessed. James’ specialty didn’t lie in communicating with people, to state the obvious, “Uh, did you need something from in here?”
