Who: Herbert and Claire
Where: School!
When: Statistics class, after lunch

The trend of being on time or even early for class was continuing; Herbert wasn't complaining. Though once he reached statistics, he was starting to think maybe he should. This was by far his worst class, and the one class he hadn't managed to get something done for over the weekend. After Geo and Sammy Saturday, and then Olivia finally coming home Sunday, trying to figure out statistics had just been beyond his poor brain's capability. Most of his other classes he's managed something decent to turn in, but not this one.

So he had to sit there, guilty-feeling and wondering just how badly it would hurt his already-not-too-high grade to have not done a single problem, for ten minutes until the bell rang. He really needed a distraction.

Vaguely remembering he'd met someone he shared this class with during the time class was out, he started casting about for a familiar scent, turning his head this way and that-- not much, but enough to be noticed-- to see what was coming from each direction. She might not even be here yet-- he was pretty sure it was a she, though her name was escaping him. She'd helped him with the internet at the library. It started with a... K? Spirits save him and his horrible memory!

Claire, however, was not concerned with math. She'd finished her homework without much effort Sunday night and wandered into the room without a care, dumping her bag next to her desk and sliding into the seat. She reached into her bag to pull out her notebook, before she slumped a bit in her chair and wondered if she could get away with taking a two minute nap before the bell rang. Stifling a yawn, despite the fact that it was the afternoon, Claire glanced to her left to see the boy from the library. She offered a small wave, not even sure if he would remember her, but what the hell.

The motion caught Herbert's eye and, turning his head to see and catching the scent at the same time, he broke into a grin, waving back. She even had blue streaks in her hair, so she was really easy to spot! They were only a row apart, and nobody had come to sit between them yet, so he turned in his chair, braced his elbows on his knees, and leaned over in her direction so they could chat. "Hallo. ... Clara, right? No, that's wrong. Curse it, I'm sorry, me and names lately...."

She quirked a smile in his direction and shook her head. "No. Not Clara." She shifted a bit in her chair and lifted her eyebrow humorously. At least he was close with Clara. "Now see, I know your name is Herbert. So I think you ought to figure out mine, since I told you and everything."

Well, okay, so she didn't sound mad, but she wasn't helping, either. Herbert gave her his best sad-dog eyes and asked hopefully, "Maybe a hint? A lot's happened since then. I still have the papers you gave me." So he at least remembered where he knew her from! So it wasn't as if he was just a complete airhead... only sort of an airhead. Or something.

It seemed so ironic, a bear being an airhead, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd been called it, even by himself.

"I'd say you've got yourself a pretty big hint," Claire told him with a shake of his head. She reached up to push a strand of blue hair behind her ear and her smirk deepened. He was cute, in a strange teddybear-ish kind of way, but Claire Korey was completely immune to any kind of puppy dog eyes thrown her way. "I bet a lot has happened, but a lot has happened with me too, Herbert Cayce. You think my name's Clara... you're close. Is that a good enough hint?"

Though he was chagrined a little when she remembered his last name, too, Herbert's eyes lit up anyway as that jogged his memory into actually working. "Claire! I was close! I knew it was a K-sound, anyway. So how are you? Did you have a good weekend?" It was a standard kind of question-- he wasn't really thinking about how it might be bounced back at him. Thinking ahead? Why would he want to do that?

"Claire.. with a C," she corrected simply, not at all offended. But it was still cute, how excited he looked just from remembering her name. "I'm okay, and my weekend was fine." It had been interesting at least. Running into Josh had been pretty cool - even if he had been Emo-Boy. "I'm guessing yours wasn't so great, otherwise you would have totally remembered my name."

"Same sound," Herbert nodded. "And, er, yes. I would have remembered if so much hadn't happened between then and now, weekend included.... Did you hear about the house fire? Those're my friends, Geo and Sammy, who lived there." They weren't dead, thank the spirits, or even really hurt. But it was still absolutely horrible, and he wished it hadn't happened.

"Oh." Hello foot? Meet mouth. Claire shot him an apologetic look as her cheeks turned a bit pink with embarrassment and a bit of shame. "I'm sorry... I heard about it, yes. I met Sammy actually... I was glad to hear he and his brother were all right."

"It's okay, you didn't know I knew them until now, anyway, eh?" Herbert didn't want anybody being upset on his account, especially over something they didn't exactly have control over. "Believe me, I was glad, too. Had to see them as soon as I found out, as soon as I could, to make sure... it settles better when somebody's right at your hands, and you can s-- see they're fine." The world just got a bit smaller again, though. "You know Sammy, then?"

Claire nodded, feeling bad for him - and for the others - but she was always at a loss for what to say when it came to things like this. "Sort of. I mean, not really. I met him briefly when I was going to Nevermore. He was heading in the same direction and we just talked for a couple minutes. That was the last time I really spoke to him. How is he?"

"About as you'd expect," Herbert sighed. "Not talking about it much as he can." Even Geo was more transparent than Sammy. Maybe the fact that he talked period helped. He really needed to learn sign language, but when was he going to get a chance for that now? He certainly didn't want to bug Sammy about it, not with him just losing his parents and his house and all his stuff. "But he's not hurt or anything, seems like. Smells like smoke still, a little." He made a little face. "Or, he did yesterday." It might have been his imagination, of course, but he imagined scents that usually fit, anyway.

Claire's brow quirked curiously at the smelling like smoke comment, but she didn't say anything. "Some people deal differently than others, I guess. I hope he'll be okay." The shock of death around here lately was really starting to dull in Claire's mind. It didn't make it any less sad, only now when she heard about it on the news, she no longer flinched. Still, Sammy had been nice and she did feel terrible for him. Claire shifted a bit in her seat, unsure of what else to say about it. Nothing she could say on the topic would probably be appropriate.

"I think he will. They both will. At least they've got friends and such." It seemed a subject change was in order, really. Herbert tried to come up with one, but the only things in his brain just then were the raven brothers, Peyton's seizure, and homework. Only one of those was both a change of topic and appropriate to talk about. He gave Claire a hopeful look and asked, "Do you think the teacher will let me turn in the weekend homework tomorrow?"

Claire grinned a bit and absently played with one of the small, silver hoops lining her ear. "Uh, doubt it. Given you had all weekend to work on it, which isn't me lecturing you, but I guarantee that's what you'd hear the teacher say if you asked." She'd heard it on more than one occasion, though it was never directed at her. "But you know, you could always turn it in late tomorrow and at least get half credit. It's better than none at all, right?" Claire opened her notebook and tugged out the homework she'd finished, offering it out to Herbert. "Or you could just copy mine really quick and turn it in today."

Considering he doubted he'd get more than half credit anyway, Herbert sighed and dropped his chin into his hands. Why did he have to be cursed with math, anyway? He was probably going to fail it unless he managed to pull himself together again, and even then he doubted he'd wind up with better than a D.

Her suggestion, though, made him stare a little at her-- not offended, but very much surprised and a little chagrined. That was wonderfully sweet of her, but.... "Oh. Oh, no, I couldn't. Thank you, that's very kind, but I don't think I could. That wouldn't be right." He liked to think he was at least honest in his failure-- and he expected the fact that it'd be right would be a dead giveaway that he'd copied, anyway. He offered her an appreciative, if sheepish, smile.

"You sure? All you've got to do is copy enough right answers to pass. Which, you know, makes it sound like I cheat, which I don't, but I've seen it done enough." Rarely would she offer to let someone copy her work, but Herbert wasn't an asshole, and she remembered trying to help him with math before. She'd seen him during class looking pathetically lost during lessons, and she couldn't help but feel a bit bad for him. "If you don't want to copy, that's fine." She set the paper back down. "But if you need help on anything, I don't mind offering."

"Exactly the reason I probably shouldn't," Herbert explained-- beyond it being so very dishonest he'd probably feel too sick and guilty to even go through with it. "I get most things wrong, and a bunch of right answers would definitely get someone's attention, eh? But if you're offering to help sometime...." Now that would get him looking just as pathetically hopeful as he otherwise would be pathetically lost. They'd since moved on from the little bit Chrissy had helped him with, but even if they hadn't, the things she'd said kept slipping from his brain when he tried to use them. "That I can go for." He opened his backpack in search of something to write on and with. "Why don't I get your number? I promise, anything you help with, I will find some way to make up to you."

"Sure." Watching him sort through his bag, a tiny laugh formed in her throat. "I'm always for having people indebted to me." She wasn't exactly sure what he could help her with. She didn't need any help in school whatsoever, and she highly doubted she would ever get a pet duck, so she wouldn't need any expert advice on that. Then again, maybe the favor in return would just be something he wasn't really aware he was giving. Claire had no qualms about taking advantage of that fact. She was also aware that this was the second guy she'd given her phone number two in the span of a few days. Her mom would be so thrilled. Gag. Claire tried not to roll her eyes at the memory of her mom trying to get her interested in a boy. It was a constant battle because Claire was so not interested in being interested. And there went her brain process again down a completely random path, and she refocused on Herbert. "We've got that test on Friday," she reminded him. "So if you need help studying before then... I'll be free."

Herbert looked up from writing her number down and blinked first, then groaned. "Oh, spirits bless, we do?" He'd completely forgotten. Stupid tests. He was not a terribly good test-taker, to begin with. "Maybe I'll be calling you tomorrow. And Wednesday. You might regret giving me this." He tapped the number with the end of his pencil, grinning sheepishly.

The teacher had finally made his way in, however, so they wouldn't have much more time to talk. Herbert cast him a glance, then-- leaning around the fellow who had just sat down between them, finished, "Whatever you want, just ask. Especially if I somehow manage to pass that test...."

"Don't worry, it's no problem," Claire assured him before settling back in her chair when the teacher came in. It might be fun - as much fun as tutoring someone could be. Though she wasn't sure it was really tutoring as much as it was helping someone study. It would at least give her something to do, and if she could readily admit it to herself, an opportunity to feed off some energy.