A Reason to Cuss [open]

"Bitch."

"Haha, nope.  No thank you. Goodbye."  Cheflin turned away from his sister, reaching into the back of her convertible to grab his bags.  "I have absolutely no idea what you're thinking, but I can tell you right now that it's not going to happen."

"No you have to say it,"  She insisted, lunging to grab at his jacket sleeve before he could get out of the car.  "Otherwise you'll die.  Trust me."

"Dana, there is about a negative ten thousand percent chance that I will die just because I didn't cuss with my weird older sister at the gate of my new school.  Love you, thanks for the ride, take care of Mom, a-good bye."

"No you don't understand,"  Dana hissed, her wide blue eyes shining with a mischievous light.  "This high school isn't like the other ones you've been to, bro.  There is not normal here; there is only varying levels of indescribable insanity.  You will lose.  Your sense.  Of self. If you don't cuss at least once per day."

"I'll be fine, you loser,"  Cheflin reached across the seat to shuffle his fingers through his sister's cropped black hair.  "I promise I'll cuss when I feel the need."

Dana screeched, pulling away to restyle her hair.  "Bitch, how dare you!"  She yelped.  "Also don't forget to eat lots of junk food; save the veggies for the vegans and cute baby bunny rabbits."

"Yes, yes, I'll eat some junkfood,"  The teen rolled his eyes, shifting his backpack to the opposite shoulder.  "But not right now; I already got plenty of diabetes from that giant McDonald's meal you forced down our throats a couple hours ago."

"And you also have to stay up late and sleep in until noon, because parties and internet."

"Fine, I'll hit up some parties--but not too crazy.  I'm still gonna be a minor for another four years."

"Fuck the drinking age, man.  Live a little.  Also don't exercise unless you absolutely have to because that shit is difficult, annoying, and tedious as hell."

"No physical effort will be exerted unless absolutely necessary.  And also, I'm sure my life will be perfectly fulfilling without breaking the law."

"Also Mom told me to tell you that sunscreen is important (you're albino which obviously means you're made of fucking porcelain or some shit), don't break your glasses, don't get too hot, don't get too cold, wear long-sleeve shirts, and don't go crazy or you'll probably end up falling victim to a really fun and adventurous lifestyle that doesn't involve shoving a sharp stick up your own ass."

"...I don't know how to respond to that, so I'm just not going to.  Tell Mom and Dad I love them when you get back home, okay?  Love you, see ya."

"Wait, say bitch first."

"How 'bout no?"  Cheflin jumped out of the car before Dana could grab a hold of his sleeve once more, sprinting away from his sister's car with a wild grin on his face.  "Have fun at college!  Tell Mom I'll call her tonight!  Bye!"

"See you later, you piece of shit!"  Dana screamed, standing up in her seat and waving her arms wildly.  Her mouth split into a gigantic smile.  "I'm gonna enjoy not having to see your shitty face for the next year!"

Riley was slumped against a tree with a hand in his pocket, the other one exposed to sunlight as he held the metal box of radiation. His red eyes gazed upwards from his phone. A blondie shouted at another person outside the great gates as he passed into the courtyard. The black iPhone slid into the autumns pocket as he pushed himself from the tree trunk. He slowly trudged over to the student and stood right in front of him. His eyes followed the screeching convertible leave the school grounds and at the same time the new student turned himself around making him nose to nose with the angsty student.

A glimmer of light shinned in the amber eyes that faced the other student, a small grin also made its way to Riley's face. "Well well well. What do we have here?" The devious smile only grew wider as he took a step back so he could focus his eyes on the student before him. "A new student? How adorable~!"

Riley quickly spun on his heel and turned to face towards the offices, "Follow me. I'll be showing you around. What's your name?" He seemed to be in a better mood than normal - coming off as a creep for sure but that doesn't matter. The semi-old student took slow leisurely steps towards the office with a small glance to make sure the other boy was following him.

Cheflin blinked in surprise, skidding to a sudden halt to avoid running into the student in front of him.  This kid's got an interesting mouth on him,  He noted to himself, mildly impressed by how quickly the other boy had managed to establish himself as an angsty teenage stereotype.  Everything about him screamed "I have emotional issues and am probably clinically depressed", from the way he held himself to the way his face tightened into a smirk when he spoke.  He's kind of...obnoxious.

Shrugging his thoughts aside, Cheflin hoisted his backpack further up his shoulder and trotted off after his self-proclaimed tour guide.  "My name's Cheflin Cook, but most people just end up calling me Chef. (A/N:  Chef is pronounced with a hard "ch", but Cheflin is pronounced "sheflin"...You know.  Just to make it as complicated as possible.)  And your name is...?"

The dark student ignored the question that was directed to him, instead he swiftly pivoted on his heel and questioned the albino boy. "Chef Cook? Really? What type of name is that?" He scoffed as he turned back to face the buildings; his brows furrowed as he tried to hold back a laugh. They were almost there, the green courtyard still on either side of the sidewalk and the blue fountain that could be heard if quiet enough.

Riley slowed down a bit so he could stand next to Chef instead of leading him like a train. "So, Chef Cook, what is the power that you were ever so gifted with?" Curiosity boiled beneath him as he questioned the boy. Surely it had to be something unique if he attended Beata Academy.

"Yeah, my father has an...interesting sense of humor, as you can probably guess."  Cheflin laughed awkwardly, reaching up to scratch the back of his head.  "Well, my mum calls me Cheflin--she's not as...enthusiastic as Dad about punny names."  He paused for a moment, wondering briefly if the other student planned on answering his previous question.

When if became apparent that this was not going to occur any time soon, Cheflin sighed.  Why would anybody ever be so committed to their own image that they'd ignore a question about their own name?!

Well, he could play that game, too.  If Emo Kid wasn't going to give him his name, then there was absolutely no reason for Cheflin to give him his power.  Instead, he'd just play dumb for as long as possible, asking the same question over and over and over again until he got an answer.  The boy smiled brightly.  "So, what were you called again?"

Riley paused when he got the question about his name again. He obviously asked the kid somehing first no need to ignore him. "You deaf?" He asked with a semi-sarcastic voice. "Name's Riley." His steps came to a stop as the tall office building loomed over him. "Here's our stop, cook." Rileys pale hands slipped over the door handle and opened it up, "After you."

"Not deaf,"  Chef sang quietly to himself, nodding partly in victory and partly in thanks as he slipped through the open door.  "Just stubborn."

The teen shot a smile at Riley before rustling through his bags to find the entrance papers he and his sister had filled out on the drive to Beata Academy.  After several seconds of fruitless shuffling, he finally found them lodged firmly at the very bottom of his backpack, under two cans of Diet Pepsi Dana had no doubt smuggled in with his forms while he wasn't looking.  Darn it Dana,  Chef thought, sighing.  I thought I told you to put my papers back in their folder; now they're all wrinkled.  He removed the forms and the cans from his pack, absorbing any bit of heat from the cans in his left hand and conducting it into his right.  Slowly, the paper between his fingers began to yellow from the heightened temperature.

"Drink?"  Cheflin offered one of the sodas to Riley, the smallest of smirks appearing on his face.  "Freshly chilled."