Clarice and Terry, Wednesday night.

[x-siryn.livejournal.com]

Terry is giddy at her roommate as she recounts the tail of her encounter at the arcade. Wardrobes are plotted then Terry is an idiot and upsets Clarice who leaves. Backdated to Wednesday.



Terry bounced into the room and grabbed her roommate. She spun her around in a circle and let go so they both fell back on to their respective beds. She curled up so she was on her knees and leaned forward. "Guess what?" she said, blue eyes sparkling, still bouncing.

"What?" Clarice asked, grinning from her own bed. She had pictures all over the floor and had been outlining them in marker, making them look strange.

"Guess!" Terry insisted, "I'll give you a hint. I went to the arcade today. Ms. Pacman, you know, and someone had taken my high score."

Clarice stopped drawing, surprised, "You like, own that game. No one has ever beaten your score. It's just....unthinkable!" she declared, doing her best Princess Bride impression. Somehow, she just didn't pull off the balding genius look.

"I know! It's been ages since anyone even got close and when I went in there today, I was in fourth! Fourth!" Terry threw up her hands like she couldn't imagine a more dire fate. "So of course, I had to defend my place. You still haven't guessed."

"Um..." Clarice thought hard, "You met Matt Damon?

"Guh, I wish." Terry pretended to faint at the very thought. "No. I'll give you another hint. So I finally get my high score back and I'm desperate for a drink and I can't find my water bottle. Then lo and behold who should offer it back to me but this super hot guy."

"Wampa wampa," Clarice made crude noises, her drawing abandoned. Gossip was better than anything else. "So...stats? I want details babe!"

"You suck at guessing." Terry told her then flopped back onto her pillow, kicking her legs up in to the air and resting them on the wall. "So my mysterious guy gives me back my water bottle and tells me how great I am at Pacman. And can you believe it, he's the bloke who beat my score!"

So predictable, Clarice thought, although kinda romantic. In a video-game geek sort of way. "Sorry. I flunked mind-reading class. But dude, he beat your score?! I still don't believe it. You live that game."

"Live and breathe. He's bloody excellent." Terry rolled her eyes. "But he was really nice about my beating him and asked me out for pizza." She grinned and giggled. "He's so cute. Tall too and really funny. Huge flirt."

She had a DATE?! "You have a DATE?!" Clarice flipped rightside up from where she'd been laying, "What are you going to wear?! And you never did give me stats! Spill!"

Terry cracked up, laughing hysterically. She sat up after a time, still giggling. "We went for pizza today and next Wednesday we're going to the movies. I have no idea what to wear. I mean, you should meet this guy, Clarice. He's perfect."

"Matt Damon perfect? What's he look like? What grade's he in? What else does he like? Does he know you go here?" Clarice fired off a rapid succession of questions, dying to know the details. It wasn't often anyone went on a date with someone from outside the school, it was a big deal.

"No one is Matt perfect. He's a couple inches taller than me and his hair is gold so that's already two points in his favor. His eyes are this gorgeous hazel color. I think he's in our grade and…no, he doesn't know I go here." Terry winced as she confessed that last. "But he's really sweet and he volunteers for a humanitarian organization."

"I dunno, he might not eat chocolate or something horrendous...maybe I should meet him first?" Clarice asked, a gleam in her eyes, "I mean, my roommate should only date the best."

Terry nodded, "You really do have to meet him. I'm just trying to figure out how to tell him about…here, you know? After Mike…I just don't want him to freak out." She fidgeted nervously. "Maybe after the movies. That way I'll see if he's as cool as he seems. Which I'm sure he is."

"Of course he's cool," Clarice agreed, plotting, "and if Shiro and I just /happened/ to be at the same movie...oops?"

"Right." Terry bit her lip. "That should work. But…what am I going to wear?" She dismissed the concern and went back to a more important question.

"OMG. Clothes!" Clarice moved so quickly Terry thought she had teleported into the closet, "You have to wear this shirt!" she pulled out a blue and green shirt from Terry's side of the closet, "It's cute, but not too....suggestive. And it would go great with your hair!"

The shirt was definitely cute and really close to the perfect color. "With my hair curled or should I straighten it?" Terry climbed off the bed and quickly traded the caramel colored top she was wearing for the blue-green one then moved to the mirror.

Thinking for a minute, Clarice played with Terry's hair, "Curled," she decided, "It's all sexy and fun."

"Make up?" Terry rarely wore any. Just lip-gloss really unless it was for a show. But this was different. "Or…I don't know." She looked at her roommate's reflection, eyes imploring.

"Don't look at me," Clarice gestured to her lack of makeup, "Lip gloss. Might have some eye-shadow. Just get some tattoos."

"I think that's kind of extreme, don't you?" Terry turned to give her friend a sceptical look. "Maybe I'll ask Alison. She always looks beautiful."

"No one ever takes my fashion advice," Clarice muttered good naturedly. Her tattoos were extreme, although she was still fond of them. They had started out without meaning and then gained them. Made her wonder what came first, the chicken or the egg.

"That's because it looks great on you but the rest of us don't have your flair," Terry retorted, equally good-natured. "I'm just a cute Irish girl from County Mayo. I'm not wild."

Clarice attempted an Irish accent, shocking herself by not failing miserably. It must've been from having an Irish roommate, "Oh aye, I'm just a wee harp player who wears leather pants."

"Don't be a gobshite. Sure and yeh know I only wear the leather trousers for a show." Terry responded, broadening her accent to just this side of unintelligible. "And I don't own any leather knickers at all. I'm shocked yeh'd even say so." She giggled.

"Wanna borrow mine then?" Clarice teased, rooting a pair of pleather panties from a pile on her bed. They had hello kitty on the butt. "I mean, 'sure and ye ken borrow mine.' Or something."

"Yeh're a true friend." Terry snickered. She had to make a conscious effort to lose the accent again. "So I can't just wear the shirt. That's a little forward, especially with the pleather pants."

"Jeans. Jeans are casual. And heels, they dress it up. So it's not like, uber dressy or rolled out of bed grungy either."

"Heels heels or boot heels?" Terry rose up her toes, trying to envision it. "He's not that much taller than me."

Clarice considered Terry's shoes and the distinct lack of selection. "Will you be playing video games?" she asked, knowing that DDR in heels was a Bad Idea. Although Amanda had the right idea by wearing combat boots most of the time, she thought.

Terry made a face, "Movies and pizza I think. Maybe Pacman or…oh, I wonder if he plays Galaga. That game is a flat out classic."

"Oookay," Clarice made a face, sticking her tongue out, "Whatever. So....go with boots. They're more practical even if they aren't quite so fun."

Terry giggled, "Boots it is. I'll ask Alison about makeup and stuff tomorrow." She turned away from the mirror and grinned at Clarice. "He's really cute."

"He better be for all this," truth be told, Clarice was kinda jealous. Even though she had Shiro, and she wasn't complaining, she never met local boys even when she'd tried to. Flirting just didn't work when guys thought you were the spawn of satan.

"He is," Terry affirmed. "You'll really like him. Did I tell you that he volunteers for a civil rights organization?" She bounced again.

"So when do I get to meet him? I mean, we have to have The Talk if he wants to date you, you're my roomie," 'and you're dad's a jackass' went unspoken.

"I don't know." Terry said and a little bit of glee drained out of her. She went to sit on her bed again and curled her legs up Indian style. "Like I said, the whole thing with Mike. I know it's stupid and I'm sure he's not like that but," she shrugged, "I want to make sure he's not a raving looney first."

"You mean anti-mutant," the statement was said flatly, without emotion.

Terry nodded, no longer happy and feeling like the slime under a rock. "He's really great and he didn't say anything that made me think he might be but…I'm not ashamed of being a mutant. I just…" she shrugged again.

Clarice nodded, understanding and hating it, "You can pass. You don't have to wear your genetics on your sleeve. Good for you," she teleported away.

Terry gaped at the spot where Clarice had been. "That's not what I meant," she protested to the empty room then yanked her water bottle out of her bag. With a sniffle, she wrenched the top off. The vodka went down as easily as the water it ostensibly was.