I Am (Not) All Girl

The night before the last final exam of her high school career, Jill McTeague went to bed.

The next morning, Jack McTeague got up. He was pretty sure Jill had been operating on blind hope that the cycle would be off this month, though if it had been too far off he might have walked at graduation, and wouldn't that have pissed her off? Ha. Still, just in case, she'd left her notes out for him to read over. Jack was...actually a little nervous. If he bombed Jill's class she'd never forgive him, but it wasn't like she could expect him to learn an entire semester's worth of business whatever in a couple of hours.

Of course, then there was the fact that the post-it Jill had stuck to said notes began, Jack, I'm not sure any of this will be useful... so Jack wasn't sure why he was bothering. Still, here he was, eating (smooth) peanut butter out of the jar and reading Jill's stupidly thorough notes like he would remember any of it ten minutes later. He stood a better chance digging around in Jill's memory, honestly, but whatever.

((Mostly establishy, but can be open if you so please!))

So, there was weirdness going on outside. Again. Luckily, Jill had an Action Plan! It was pretty much her usual plan for when there was weirdness. Repress Deny Avoid hadn't worked out so well, but Avoid still worked fine, as far as she could tell. She'd given brief though to duct taping around the windows, but ultimately decided that might be overkill. Now, she had food and downloaded episodes of Be Good Johnny Weir, aka 'Jill's new favorite show,' and teen movies for when watching a figure skater basically have sex with his foot massager got old (which she figured would be about never), and figured she was good for the duration.

((Open door, open post!))

Jill stared at her calendar for a long time, hoping this would be an off month because of the random girls turning into boys thing last week, before she finally sucked it up, admitted to herself that with her luck it so would not be, and went to make a phone call.

"Hey, Mom, listen...about this weekend...no, okay, you first." Maybe something had come up and they weren't coming! Her dad wouldn't leave the basement again, if she was lucky.

A moment later, her shriek of, "WHAT?" was probably audible all down the hall, particularly considering the door was open. Jill lowered her voice and hissed into the phone, "Oh, mal, oh mal mal mal. Mom, you cannot bring her here. Not this weekend! How does she even know I'm here? She got a letter?! Well, can't you just tell her you can't bring her? You--what do you mean it would be rude? You don't even like Ramie, Mom! You call her a worshipper of chaos!...yes, Mom. Yes, Mom. No, I understand. Of course I want to see Ramie. It's just--I'll talk to you when you get here, okay?"

Jill hung up her phone, collapsed facedown on her bed, and screamed into the pillow.

Well. Looked like she couldn't put off that talk with Ramie any longer after all.

((Door and post are open!))

Jill was bored. There was nothing on TV. Why was there never anything good on TV when she was bor--ooh, was that the Rock? She flipped back a few channels.

It was the Rock. And Karl Urban! Score!

Within about ten minutes, Jill had realized two, no, three things. One, this movie was not her taste at all. Jack probably would have liked it, though. Two, she thought it might be actually kind of terrible. Three, every time she decided she'd had enough and was changing the channel, the Rock or Karl Urban was going to come onscreen and destroy her resolve, so she was stuck with it.

Well, she figured it was this or Chef vs. City on Food Network, and this had way cuter guys. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon.

((Door and post open!))

As you might have guessed from the string of my characters leaving town or turning into a potted plant down your flist, I am going to be AFK for a few days, starting at approximately 6 AM tomorrow (a time that should not exist) when I leave to drive up to Washington, DC where I'll be interning this summer. I should be back online by Tuesday.

Steve's workshop on Monday will be handled by the lovely magdaofslovenia.

No geraniums were harmed in the making of this brief hiatus.

Hihi! Little late, but better late than never, right?

For the newbie, Dr. Samuel Cornick, look back thisaway. One caveat I didn't think of while writing that post because I was drunk: Samuel has a very developed sense of smell, even in human form, and certain smells are going to ping for him: fae, witches, other werewolves, vampires. If you are one of the above and you don't want him recognizing you as such, let me know in the comments and we'll go with 'his whichevers are different.' He'll probably still recognize something 'off' but won't know what it is, and won't ask because he's polite like that and because this island is full of people who smell 'off.'

( The Weirdest Hermaphrodite You'll Ever Meet )

( The Fallen Son )

( The Spirit of the Twentieth Century )

( The Boy With(out) the Car )

( The Gay Speedster Mutant Ninja )

( The Amazing Multiplying Yellow Ranger )

( The Punk Film Student/Stunt Double )

Info about me can also be found on Samuel's infopost. Since I wrote that, though, I've gotten a temp job for the next three weeks. I have to be there at eight every morning, so my late night availability is about to go bye-bye. Oh, the agonies of the real world.

It's spring break! Woooooo!

So, I'm going to the beach for the next three days and will be MIA through Monday. Definitely. Then I have to go visit my parents, and their internet is down as of this typing. They're trying to get it fixed, but I have no guarantees, so I might be out through...uh. Next Monday. Unless I go insane from lack of internet and flee early. We'll see. D:

This applies for iamnotallgirl, carsexual, spiritofthe20th, screwyoumarvel, and notafairy.

Steve and JP's classes on Monday are taken care of and will be posted by someone else.

I knew I forgot something: Steve and JP are off (separately) fighting evil. My students are around but quiet. Their roommates have modding rights. My alumni--well, one of them seems to be getting her hair dyed green.

Latish Friday night, Jack stumbled back to Jill's room and managed to get his jar of peanut butter and anything else that overtly said 'Jack's been outside!' either hidden or thrown away. He hid his new shoes and jacket in 'his' drawer, where Jill wouldn't look on a dare, under a couple of Hustlers. Then he fell asleep, pretty much fully clothed.

The next morning, Jill woke up with one bitching hangover. But she couldn't think about why her skull felt like it was being split open, just yet. She had to do Plan B. It went something like this:

Step one. Sit up and stare at the mirror over the dresser. Fix the image of her female face in her mind's eye.

Step two. Lie down, close her eyes, and begin the mantra: I am all girl, in time with her breathing. In, I am, out, all girl. Envision a black dot in the center of her forehead, expanding until it engulfs her entire head.

Step three. Project every detail of Jack's four days onto the blackness, fast, as if it is a movie, being sure not to absorb any of the details. Let it fade to black, to nothing.

Step four. Paste the image of her own female face onto the blackness, focusing until it is crystal clear and the only thing she sees.

And that was it. That was Plan B. Jack erased as if he'd never been.

Jill laid there for a few minutes before she got up to find a tampon, because of course she'd woken up with her period, as always, some painkillers, and some French toast. Nothing looked too out of place on her first scan around the room, although it didn't look like Jack had left her a note. Weird. He usually did, even if it was just to ask for more porn or remind her he liked stupid smooth peanut butter. Maybe he'd been kept somewhere else for the four days. That was fine by her. She had a life to get back to in this loony bin.

((Establishy. Some text modified from Cycler.))

Jill was scrambling to get things ready for tomorrow. And Jack. She didn't know what the school was going to do about it. Were they going to lock him in? Remove him to a secure location? Let him roam free because everyone here was crazy and wouldn't notice anyway? She didn't know, and she was afraid to ask, so she'd decided to take appropriate precautions. Thus far, she'd bought some peanut butter and a loaf of bread so Jack could, you know, eat, and written a ( note )

Now she just had to figure out what to do about her roommate...

((Open))