Making Plans
Who: Joshua and Marek
When: afternoon
Where: NMU's campus
"No, ma, I think we can manage it," Joshua said as he walked out of the building, phone tucked between his head and his shoulder, as his hands were full of glossy pamphlets and papers. "The lady said a student visa isn't too hard to get, and she gave me some stuff about scholarships, so we might not have to ... well, yeah, I know you would, but if I can ..." He trailed off as she just talked over him, and grinned a bit.
The night before had been full of lots of thinking. And talking to himself, which was how he thought things through the best. Talking to Claire about future plans and jobs and the like had put sort of a spotlight on how useless he was being. He needed to do something with his life, whether Lu was in it or not. And unless he was going to -- clumsily -- stock groceries for the rest of his life, that involved going on with his school-plan.
"No, I don't have a major yet, that's not for a wh-- aw fuck," he cut himself off as a gust of wind caught the papers in his hand and blew them completely away across the grass. "I gotta call you back, ma, loveyoubye!" He hung up and pocketed the phone as he hurried to try and catch all of it.
---
The last class of the day was over for Marek. Technically the class had been over for the past half hour or so, but there had been a line of students waiting to talk to the professor after...and Marek had been last in that line. So, naturally, Marek hadn't got out until now.
Softly cursing underneath his breath in Polish he hurried across the grass, using it as a shortcut to get to his car. He had nearly reached the parking lot he was heading for when several papers hit his face and one more blew up against his leg, plastering itself to his jeans. Marek's swearing increased as he set his bag down and grabbed the papers, stacking them before he looked for their owner, bag leaning up against his leg.
..
Joshua had been grabbing them up by the handful -- dammit, there were tons more than he thought he'd been actually carrying, stupid complicated application process -- and glanced up to see that some of them had assaulted some guy. Balls. He hurried over. Which consisted of a fast walk that kind of turned into a flail as the toe of his sneaker caught the edge of a sidewalk. He managed to stay upright, though, which was something. "Sorry," he called as he came up on Marek. Who had thankfully saved what he could, looked like. "Sorry, thanks, s'what I get for trying to do two things at once, yeah?" He chuckled a bit sheepishly, aware -- again, as the woman behind the desk had pretty much stared at it the whole time they talked -- of his lovely broken-nose-black-eyes combo.
---
Never one to stay within the norms of conversation and keep himself from asking questions, Marek held the papers out, waving his free hand at the much-abused face, one sooty-colored eyebrow arched towards and even sootier hairline. "Did you trip and do that to your face, or were you in a fight?" Yes. Rude. But that was the word that was best used to describe Marek really. Rude and blunt. His eyes ticked from Joshua's face to Joshua's papers, which he still held outstretched in his hand. Hm. An application and assorted necessary, related papers; interesting. "If you were in a fight, does the other guy look worse? I would hope you're not fighting girls..."
...
He took the offered papers to cover the second's mental trip-up from the blunt question. But he'd hung around with enough rough mates in the past to know better than to tell the truth. "Fight," he lied, grinning just a touch for effect. He made an effort to try and arrange everything into a manageable pile in his arms, wrapped wrist and all. "He looks 'bout the same, maybe plus some bruised ribs." Because bragging in a fight-story you completely made up just made it more unbelievable.
--
Marek found himself reaching out and taking the papers again, lifting them easily away so he could rearrange them all neat and tidy and square-cornered. And it wasn't because he wanted to be helpful - it was because it bothered him to see all the corners sticking out here and there all messy-like. It was simple as that. "I hope it wasn't someone from this school?" It was kind of a question, not really one that needed answering. Marek fixed a folded over corner before holding out the stack again.
..
Joshua almost snatched them back -- he needed those, after all -- until he saw what the guy was doing. Which was a little odd, because he definitely looked like the kind of guy to take stuff and not hand it back over. "Ah, no. Someone from the high school," he answered, taking the stack of papers back. He was definitely going to hang on to them tighter this time. "Thanks," he said, nodding to his handful of information.
---
"I didn't do it for you," As most-always, the words from Marek's mouth were truths. Lovely, lovely truths. "Though it's nice that you benefited, no? I did it because if they..." He waved his hands briefly in a couple different directions, almost like he was framing the formerly-messy-but-now-orderly-papers. "...continued to be all disorderly, I think my brain would explode. Transfering here, then?" Rude and nosy - it was fun.
..
... okay, so he was a weird bastard. Joshua could deal with that. Or just ... yeah, probably walk away in a minute. He was half-tempted to fuck all the papers up again just to bother the dude, but refrained. "More like startin' fresh," he said, eyes settled on Marek in a wary sort of way. "I'm assuming you go here?"
---
Oh yes, there was a little gleeful soar of emotions as he gained that wary look from the guy. Thankfully Marek managed to avoid grinning in the corresponding way. It wouldn't do to let that emotion actually show. "Yea. Recently applied here - and obviously got in - to get my Masters. It's a nice place." Also not a lie. Truth. It was a nice place. "The professors actually know what they're teaching."
..
Wary or not, learning more about the school he was thinking about joining -- from someone who was actually going and not just trying to sell him on it -- was kind of appealing. "Yeah?" he asked, watching the guy's expression. If he was getting his Masters, he was older ... and maybe knew what he was talking about, if he'd been to uni elsewhere. "What are you studying?"
--
---
---
Marek answered readily enough with an almost pleasant grin as he bent down, looping his hand in his messenger bag strap and hefting it back up. "Sociology and political science. Sometimes you get idiot professors with those subjects, but these ones aren't. It probably means that the rest of the professors are good, if they show the same skill in hiring them." He bent down again to grab a pen from where it had fallen - he could be totally wrong about the other professors, truly, but he didn't worry about it. "What are you considering studying, or don't you have a clue yet?"
..
"No clue yet," he answered honestly and a touch sheepishly. It was going to be a balancing act; finding what he liked that was something he could actually do without killing himself. Something that probably involved lots of sitting down and no overly sharp objects. Carpentry and the like was most definitely out. "Maybe somethin' with travel? I dunno, this'll be my first go-round with uni."
--
"Well, you'll figure it out." It wasn't necessarily friendly, but, for once, it wasn't rude, either. And that was probably something he could get points from, maybe. "I stay and talk more, but my girl's waiting for me. I wish you luck with uni, and..." He smiled slightly, keeping his lips down over filed-fangs. "Maybe I'll see you around at some point. You have a nice day." With a last nod of his head he headed off, fumbling in his pockets for his keys. Amazing. He'd been almost nice.