#grandhavenstarter

[violet-penn-grand-haven-blog]

"So." Violet walked over to the counter, leaning her mop against the tip jar. "The school sent out that email about a formal dance. I was wondering if you wanted to go dress shopping. At some point." She rubbed the back of her neck nervously, shifting her weight. "So, erm... Do you?"

[lettersfromcordy]

Mentally preparin' myself for this next courseload. I think I might look into one of those "Hire-A-Doppleganger" services, and sleep the semester away.

How much do you think they go for, exactly?

[nora-grace-writer]

Death by Boredom | Open

Nora sighted as she made her way through the empty walk ways on campus. She pulled her jacket more snuggly around her, clutching her books to her chest. She was on her way to another monotonous shift at the library, where she’d sit for four hours reading or staring at the ceiling and counting the tiles for the hundredth time. As she slipped into the library, she took a hopeful look around, but just like it had been for the last four weeks, the library was bitterly empty.

She sighed once more as she sat at her desk, leaning her elbows on the hard surface, bracing her chin in her hands. She couldn’t wait for school to start again. Then she’d have classes to help teach and students bombarding her desk asking for help finding certain books the need for research projects and book reports. But until then, she was forced to just sit there in silence. “Just one more week.” She whispered to the emptiness.

She reached for one of her books, Pride and Prejudice, opening it to the book marked page. She’d read this book about 50 times, but it had always been her favorite. 

[nora-grace-writer]

It's good to finally be out of the house. Stupid snow. Anyone fancy getting a cup of coffee with me?

[lettersfromcordy]

Worst part of the new year? Not having enough rum for all members of your party. Me, myself, and I were all very disappointed. Screw 2013, and screw you, Captain Morgan.

[westonttucker]

Meeting Expectations // Roland & Weston

Weston watched all the students leave the classroom in a rush, some less than others, but being bumped into anyway. It was the last class of the day for him, however, there he stayed. He needed to talk to someone before going home. And by the time, philosophy class should've been finished. The person was probably coming already.

Roland Lemont. His grades bordered between regular and excellent in other subjects, yet in algebra, things didn't look good at all. The proof was the student's exam and assignments, which the professor took out of his briefcase with a frown. If Roland continued like that, he'd certainly fail, and even then, he never asked for more explanations or any help on his doubts. There must've been something going on.

Thinking of what he'd have to buy at the grocery store later, Weston flipped the pages in hand slowly, his vague eyes not reading anything. The place's silence started to get to him, and no more than a few minutes later, he was nodding off. Until someone stepped into the classroom, making him wake up in a jolt.

[lettersfromcordy]

The closer it gets to Christmas, more I excited I get. But I will miss my brothers this year... I've never spent a Christmas without them.

[lettersfromcordy]

Nowhere to Hide|| Cordelia/Open

Running was rather difficult in the snow, however, nothing could stop Cordy from prancing through the thick of  trees, heart beating wildly, hair flying out behind her, and toes too kinetic to feel the cold. Gripping her hat as to prevent it from falling off, she tripped, plummeting into the frozen ground face-first. 

She lay there a while, groaning, and using the cool substance to decrease the temperature she knew her face must be suffering. It would only be a minute before she would have to resume her escape. She didn't know where she would go, but there was no way she could go back there today. Everyone would stare at her, their prying eyes trying to decode her, undress her, peer inside where they ought not even look. 

It wasn't their business, yet somehow, everybody knew what was in the letter delivered to her by the messenger. Why they couldn't have mailed it her was the question. Did they really think that delivering it to her in person-- before all of the student body-- would be less cruel?

Her heart sank even further than she thought possible. Maybe she should just lay here. Tomorrow someone would come looking for her, she knew. But for now, she'd lay here in the snow, and try to think her way through this.

Heaving a great sigh, she forced herself up just enough to flip onto her back. But upon opening her eyes, she found herself staring into a rather unfamiliar pair of eyes.