Making Up For Lost Time
Aug 18, 2019 14:53:42 GMT -6
Post by Snick on Aug 18, 2019 14:53:42 GMT -6
Patrick got up at five. That should give him ample time to get his essay well written and polished and all of his research checked before breakfast. Unfortunately the library was locked this early in the morning, and the common room was still cold, dark, and a bit conspicuous, should he be found out. There was nothing for it but study by wand light here in his room. He only hoped Andrew was a heavy sleeper, but if not, well, it couldn't be helped. He'd rather have his roommate's anger than his father's any day.
Always punctilious, Patrick could no more study in his robe and slippers than he could fly without a broom, so he got up, showered in the dark, and got completely dressed quietly and combed his hair before he set up his desk to study by wand light. Then he made himself a cup of good instant coffee, with two sugars--one he kept the ingredients for handy in his desk for just such an emergency, and set to writing, privacy screen pulled around him in case any of the wand light distracted his sleeping room mate. It took him about a half an hour before he really got started.
But by five thirty, he was working on his essay in earnest, double checking references, writing with his concise hand, and forming the neat business margins and well ordered paragraphs his mother and tutors had insisted he write with. He once again was thankful that his parents had insisted they have private tutors instead of public school before Salem, as the Pratts were far better writers than many of their public and private schooled peers.
Andrew, unfortunately, was not a particularly deep sleeper. Though Patrick had been quiet in getting ready and starting on his homework, the movement, light and sound had disturbed Andrew's sleep. At first he just rolled over, pulling the blankets closer around his head but after half an hour the unexpected light had caused Andrew to crack his eyes open. "Wha're y'doin'?" he mumbled, squinting towards the screen that concealed his roommate.
Andrew sat up in his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking toward his bedside alarm clock. 5:34am, what on earth was Patrick doing at 5:30 in the morning? The obvious answer did not immediately come to Andrew's sleep addled brain as he waited for a response from his roommate. He was not accustomed to Patrick not having all his work well under control. Sometimes just trying to study in the same room as the favored Pratt boy was stressful and Andrew had always been glad that he wasn't in his classes.
"Sorry to bother you. I didn't get one of my essays finished last night. Family business. So I'm doing it this morning. I've tried to be quiet, and I used the privacy screen to keep the light to a minimum." Patrick shrugged. He really had done all he could. He turned back to his essay. It was a working draft, but hardly to the polished state his father expected. No, it would never do.
"But if you can't sleep, you're welcome to join me. I can make some more instant coffee," he said, really wanting to get back to writing his essay.
Andrew flopped back into bed a bit dramatically, vaguely annoyed but not having anything to backup an argument with. His roommate was perfectly in his right to study at this hour and had followed the necessary precautions to try to ensure that Andrew didn't wake up. Andrew lay staring at the ceiling for a few moments, wondering if he would be able to fall asleep now that he had already awoken and gotten used to the light. He didn't think so. It was too close to the normal time that he had to wake up that he didn't think he could get himself back to sleep now. Then Patrick offered him some coffee and he sat back up.
"Yeah, sure, I'll take you up on the offer," he said, sliding his feet up so he could sit cross-legged and lean against the headboard. He didn't want to actually get out of bed, it was far more comfortable where he was. Andrew noticed that Patrick had gotten completely dressed already but he wasn't going to do that either and instead remained in his t-shirt and plaid flannel pajama pants. Because Andrew didn't want to study at this hour and he had all his homework done that was due that day (the next day was a different story) he reached into the drawer of his night stand and took out a pad of paper and a pencil. He began working on a sketch that he's started the other day. He was completely determined to get Ms Buskirk to let him be part of the costume and set design of this years play so had started sketching and practicing already with the diligence only someone so young and with such vivid hopes possessed.
Patrick pulled out another mug, measured coffee into it, and added hot water. He began stirring. He spoke while he did this. "We don't talk much. Are you getting into set design or costume design with the play this year?" The kid obviously wasn't athletic. He seemed . . . a little girly. Not that Patrick would say that out loud. He wasn't going to judge him, and as long as Andrew didn't hit on him, he didn't care. Then he added Irish coffee cream and sugar, stirred it, and passed it to Andrew. He looked up, waiting for an answer a moment.
"Thanks," Andrew said, taking the mug from Patrick. He was a bit surprised that Patrick wanted to talk but mentally shrugged it off. "I'm going to talk to Ms Buskirk so I' m quite sure about it yet. I really want to do something behind the scenes with the play this year for sure. I' ll probably end up just helping the older students," he said a bit sadly but then immediately perked up again and continued. "I' m working on my sewing though and taking fabrications this year so hopefully I'll be able to help a lot more next year." He said enthusiastically, showing his dipples. "I wish we'd do musicals though, they have great sets and costumes." He always begged his mom to take him to musicals when they were around. Andrew took a break from talking to sip his coffee, now fully awake.
"Musical is in the spring. Comedy in the fall, serious drama in the winter, Musical in the spring. With Esther Black as the lead, most likely." It paid to notice things, his dad had told him that often enough, so he had started noticing the patterns in the school.
"I am to go the athletic route, although it might be appropriate to try out for the musical my last two years and get a surprise lead," he said automatically, aping his father's instructions and his voice. He looked at Andrew and smirked, continuing as Phrixos Pratt, the third. "Good for business contacts. Must show diversity and a well-rounded background."
He glanced at the clock. Five forty-seven. "I have an essay to write: If you'll pardon me. I have about three more sources to check and a few more paragraphs to polish before I sum this all up."
"Right, thanks," Andrew said, slightly annoyed at himself for not knowing the theater schedule. He simply hadn't thought to check if last years sequence was how they did it every year. He also hadn't had the courage to try to actually work on the play last year. Andrew was not at all surprised at Patrick's declaration that he was 'going the athletic route' but raised his eyebrows when he said that he might try out for the musical, wondering if he was joking. "Musical leads are good for business?" Andrew blurted out incredulously, not sure if Patrick was making fun of him. He was used to other boys teasing him for his interests and now sometimes even expected it.
"Well, alright, then." Andrew slumped down a little where he was sitting when Patrick said he needed to get back to studying. Now he definitely wasn't going to get back to sleep. He supposed he'd just continue wasting time until he could go down to breakfast, still not wanting to actually study.
Patrick checked his three sources, surprised it didn't take as long as he planned. "I was serious," he added, not noticing it was a good fifteen minutes since he last spoke. Before he began writing his closing paragraph, summing everything up neatly. "Dad really thinks it will show me to be well rounded and help with female business contacts and contacts that are more . . . " he glanced up at Andrew, now this was awkward, "in tune with their artistic sides." Artistic was NOT how his father had put it. He sighed. "My dad is a great businessman, but he's not exactly father of the year."
He warmed up some more water and made himself another cup of coffee. "One more paragraph and I'm done."
Once Patrick started talking again, Andrew looked up from his pad of paper. He couldn't help but wonder if Patrick would be good on stage, particularly in musicals. He was good looking, definitely, but that didn't mean he was talented. His family was very rich though, so for all Andrew knew he had had endless singing and dancing lessons "for business." A sudden image of Patrick prancing around a stage in a tutu caused Andrew to let out a quick burst of laughter which he failed to stifle. He was still unsure exactly how stage experience was supposed to figure into a business model but then again he wasn't exactly experienced with it.
"Well, good luck with it. Maybe I'll design your costume." Andrew said, half being serious, half wanting to make a slight jab back at him as he still wasn't entirely sure if Patrick had been making fun of him before.
Always punctilious, Patrick could no more study in his robe and slippers than he could fly without a broom, so he got up, showered in the dark, and got completely dressed quietly and combed his hair before he set up his desk to study by wand light. Then he made himself a cup of good instant coffee, with two sugars--one he kept the ingredients for handy in his desk for just such an emergency, and set to writing, privacy screen pulled around him in case any of the wand light distracted his sleeping room mate. It took him about a half an hour before he really got started.
But by five thirty, he was working on his essay in earnest, double checking references, writing with his concise hand, and forming the neat business margins and well ordered paragraphs his mother and tutors had insisted he write with. He once again was thankful that his parents had insisted they have private tutors instead of public school before Salem, as the Pratts were far better writers than many of their public and private schooled peers.
Andrew, unfortunately, was not a particularly deep sleeper. Though Patrick had been quiet in getting ready and starting on his homework, the movement, light and sound had disturbed Andrew's sleep. At first he just rolled over, pulling the blankets closer around his head but after half an hour the unexpected light had caused Andrew to crack his eyes open. "Wha're y'doin'?" he mumbled, squinting towards the screen that concealed his roommate.
Andrew sat up in his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking toward his bedside alarm clock. 5:34am, what on earth was Patrick doing at 5:30 in the morning? The obvious answer did not immediately come to Andrew's sleep addled brain as he waited for a response from his roommate. He was not accustomed to Patrick not having all his work well under control. Sometimes just trying to study in the same room as the favored Pratt boy was stressful and Andrew had always been glad that he wasn't in his classes.
"Sorry to bother you. I didn't get one of my essays finished last night. Family business. So I'm doing it this morning. I've tried to be quiet, and I used the privacy screen to keep the light to a minimum." Patrick shrugged. He really had done all he could. He turned back to his essay. It was a working draft, but hardly to the polished state his father expected. No, it would never do.
"But if you can't sleep, you're welcome to join me. I can make some more instant coffee," he said, really wanting to get back to writing his essay.
Andrew flopped back into bed a bit dramatically, vaguely annoyed but not having anything to backup an argument with. His roommate was perfectly in his right to study at this hour and had followed the necessary precautions to try to ensure that Andrew didn't wake up. Andrew lay staring at the ceiling for a few moments, wondering if he would be able to fall asleep now that he had already awoken and gotten used to the light. He didn't think so. It was too close to the normal time that he had to wake up that he didn't think he could get himself back to sleep now. Then Patrick offered him some coffee and he sat back up.
"Yeah, sure, I'll take you up on the offer," he said, sliding his feet up so he could sit cross-legged and lean against the headboard. He didn't want to actually get out of bed, it was far more comfortable where he was. Andrew noticed that Patrick had gotten completely dressed already but he wasn't going to do that either and instead remained in his t-shirt and plaid flannel pajama pants. Because Andrew didn't want to study at this hour and he had all his homework done that was due that day (the next day was a different story) he reached into the drawer of his night stand and took out a pad of paper and a pencil. He began working on a sketch that he's started the other day. He was completely determined to get Ms Buskirk to let him be part of the costume and set design of this years play so had started sketching and practicing already with the diligence only someone so young and with such vivid hopes possessed.
Patrick pulled out another mug, measured coffee into it, and added hot water. He began stirring. He spoke while he did this. "We don't talk much. Are you getting into set design or costume design with the play this year?" The kid obviously wasn't athletic. He seemed . . . a little girly. Not that Patrick would say that out loud. He wasn't going to judge him, and as long as Andrew didn't hit on him, he didn't care. Then he added Irish coffee cream and sugar, stirred it, and passed it to Andrew. He looked up, waiting for an answer a moment.
"Thanks," Andrew said, taking the mug from Patrick. He was a bit surprised that Patrick wanted to talk but mentally shrugged it off. "I'm going to talk to Ms Buskirk so I' m quite sure about it yet. I really want to do something behind the scenes with the play this year for sure. I' ll probably end up just helping the older students," he said a bit sadly but then immediately perked up again and continued. "I' m working on my sewing though and taking fabrications this year so hopefully I'll be able to help a lot more next year." He said enthusiastically, showing his dipples. "I wish we'd do musicals though, they have great sets and costumes." He always begged his mom to take him to musicals when they were around. Andrew took a break from talking to sip his coffee, now fully awake.
"Musical is in the spring. Comedy in the fall, serious drama in the winter, Musical in the spring. With Esther Black as the lead, most likely." It paid to notice things, his dad had told him that often enough, so he had started noticing the patterns in the school.
"I am to go the athletic route, although it might be appropriate to try out for the musical my last two years and get a surprise lead," he said automatically, aping his father's instructions and his voice. He looked at Andrew and smirked, continuing as Phrixos Pratt, the third. "Good for business contacts. Must show diversity and a well-rounded background."
He glanced at the clock. Five forty-seven. "I have an essay to write: If you'll pardon me. I have about three more sources to check and a few more paragraphs to polish before I sum this all up."
"Right, thanks," Andrew said, slightly annoyed at himself for not knowing the theater schedule. He simply hadn't thought to check if last years sequence was how they did it every year. He also hadn't had the courage to try to actually work on the play last year. Andrew was not at all surprised at Patrick's declaration that he was 'going the athletic route' but raised his eyebrows when he said that he might try out for the musical, wondering if he was joking. "Musical leads are good for business?" Andrew blurted out incredulously, not sure if Patrick was making fun of him. He was used to other boys teasing him for his interests and now sometimes even expected it.
"Well, alright, then." Andrew slumped down a little where he was sitting when Patrick said he needed to get back to studying. Now he definitely wasn't going to get back to sleep. He supposed he'd just continue wasting time until he could go down to breakfast, still not wanting to actually study.
Patrick checked his three sources, surprised it didn't take as long as he planned. "I was serious," he added, not noticing it was a good fifteen minutes since he last spoke. Before he began writing his closing paragraph, summing everything up neatly. "Dad really thinks it will show me to be well rounded and help with female business contacts and contacts that are more . . . " he glanced up at Andrew, now this was awkward, "in tune with their artistic sides." Artistic was NOT how his father had put it. He sighed. "My dad is a great businessman, but he's not exactly father of the year."
He warmed up some more water and made himself another cup of coffee. "One more paragraph and I'm done."
Once Patrick started talking again, Andrew looked up from his pad of paper. He couldn't help but wonder if Patrick would be good on stage, particularly in musicals. He was good looking, definitely, but that didn't mean he was talented. His family was very rich though, so for all Andrew knew he had had endless singing and dancing lessons "for business." A sudden image of Patrick prancing around a stage in a tutu caused Andrew to let out a quick burst of laughter which he failed to stifle. He was still unsure exactly how stage experience was supposed to figure into a business model but then again he wasn't exactly experienced with it.
"Well, good luck with it. Maybe I'll design your costume." Andrew said, half being serious, half wanting to make a slight jab back at him as he still wasn't entirely sure if Patrick had been making fun of him before.
