janice

Who: Dean and Janice
When: End of lunch
Where: MSHS

Dean knew that he had to find Janice. Hell, he'd been meant to find her yesterday but with the migraine he'd just not felt up to doing anything that could possibly be construed as going anywhere near that girl. At least she hadn't tracked him down to the nurse's office - that would have just been more than he could have born yesterday. But that was yesterday, this was today, he was meant to be going to her game tonight - he couldn't carry on this farce any longer - he'd determined that he had to end this and he was going to do that. He'd just have to keep in mind Caleb's advice about dealing with tears. Caleb who wasn't in art class this morning, Caleb who'd been fucking weird yesterday - or maybe that had just been the effects of Dean's oncoming migraine that had made him feel that way. Anyway, Janice - keep on the ball, Conway, Dean told himself as he headed into the cafeteria and walked up to her table. Where she was sitting with a load of friends. Shit, great - get her alone, he thought as he hovered. "Erm, Janice - hi. Can I... Have a word with you?" he asked, looking from her to the exit in what he hoped was a meaningful manner.

Who: Dean and Thia, Dean and Janice
Where: Osbourne residence
When: Morning

Dean had taken his time over getting dressed once he'd left Oz and Sophie. Yes, he wanted to talk with Thia, but she was still asleep and, anyway, he was avoiding going to school this morning. So, he dawdled over a shower, standing under the stream as long as he could before slowly drying off. He removed the sheet from over the mirror enough to have a shave. He even used the moisturiser he had, but generally skipped. He took about five times as long picking out what to wear as he normally did, bored out of his skull doing it. Clothes were clothes, after all. And then, once he'd done that, he walked back into the bathroom to spend ten minutes picking little bits of glitter off his skin. the stuff was still everywhere, but not as abundantly as it had been the night before. That done, he let the sheet drop back over the mirror, headed back out into his room, got dressed, broke the habit of a lifetime and actually made his bed, and then - and only then - headed over to Thia's room, pausing for a moment, before pushing the door open and hesitantly looking inside.

Thia was asleep. She was all curled up on one side of the double bed, in the little ball she generally wound up in when she crashed. Her pillow was partially under her head, and partially hugged, one arm thrown over it, and Hennabean was under there too. She was still wearing the shirt she'd stolen from him, and her hearing aids were on the nightstand in front of the picture of she and Journey as kids.

Who: Dean and Janice
Where: Movies
When: Evening

Dean had to wonder what the hell he was doing as he walked up to the cinema, after Sophie had dropped him off in town. Sure, he knew what he was doing, but he was as nervous as all hell and had spent the last hour wondering if this really was that good an idea. Maybe it would be best to just turn round and go home, stand her up, forget about the whole thing, deal with the fallout in school tomorrow where he'd doubtlessly be bitched about, but at least he wouldn't have to run the gauntlet that Thia and Caleb had him worrying about that this would be viewed as a more than one time thing. Somehow he had to make sure he made that clear. The one time only thing. Unless this went well - which he doubted it would - at least, not well enough for him to want a repeat performance. Sure, the girl was pretty, but, well, she was like fourteen or something and really not his type. He hadn't been lying when he told Thia that the reason he'd picked her was because he knew beyond a doubt that she'd say 'yes'. That probably wasn't a very good start. But, he was here - and wearing the jacket as Thia'd insisted, along with a pair of dark blue jeans and a charcoal grey tshirt. He'd purposefully picked them so she couldn't think that he'd made too much of an effort or anything. God, what was he doing again?