groovygamers.com

During the week there are days when perhaps no one is at the table.  Some days many of you are there.  With the Winter Concert coming there are plenty of things happening that keep your busy. 

Sarah goes and sits with anyone left... having absolutely nothing to do with Winter Concert, except possibly attend. 

At the quiet table she slurps the last of her chocolate milk box. 

Sylvia looks up from her Christmas list, rows of names and checkmarks that she's been keeping since Halloween.  "Hey, Sarah?  Do you know anyone who's had plastic surgery?"

Donnie puts his tray down. There's more green than usual on it. Perhaps he;s in one of those dieting modes again.

"My mom."

At the girls' incredulous stares, he shrugs. "You didn't think they were real, did you?"

Sylvia grimaces.  "Did you ever watch Nip/Tuck?"

"No. Plastic surgery scares me in a strange-scary-future kind of way."

"Strange-scary-future kind of way?  Like . . . "  Sylvia shakes her head, doing her best not to raid his head for what exactly he means.  " . . . you're thinking it's inevitable?  Like global warming or losing your hair?"

"Like people will all pay to look like each other, and everyone will be surgically enhanced. Some effed up utopia where everyone who can afford to will be beautiful, and those who can't will live like troglodites, shunned and given cruddy jobs, like garbage man, or slaughterhouse worker. Or high school principle."

He takes a tremendous wad of greens and starts munching. After a few chews he adds more salad dressing to the remainder on his plate.

Sylvia hasn't failed to notice the effort Donnie puts into losing his chub.  She's taken the wise course of never mentioning it, but she does little things to make it easy on him.  Soup and salad, instead of burgers and pizza.  Walks through the park, instead of lying on the carpet in front of Donnie's E-Bay Wii.  Her recent thing has been patrolling.  Like:  'Hey, crimefighter.  Let's go patrolling.'  Patrolling involves a little more running than walking through the park, and a little less potential for breaks at the ice cream parlor.

"John was telling me about this article he read that said beauty is all about symmetry because symmetry is all about health and youth.  So when you look at someone and think they look good, there's some part of your brain firing off and telling you they're symmetrical.  He said it has something to do with the way people smell, too.  And there was something about ovulation.  It was complicated."

Donnie tries in vain to not giggle, but loses the battle. "John was talking to you about ovulation? Man, Megan's gonna be pissed if she hears that.."

He eats a few more mouthfuls, saying to himself Lean and Mean, Lean and Mean. "I dunno why you like me then. One ear is higher than the other, and i too often smell like giant lizard."

As you guys talk about symmetry and health and youth and strange-scary-futures, Sammy sweeps by, travelling in the middle of a cluster of theater kids.  They're all laughing at something a boy near Sammy [Nick, if you know him] is doing.  They go through the line and head back out, presumably to rehearse.

Monday has Megan and John sitting with the cheerleaders, football and basketball players.

"He'd stopped by the newsroom looking for Colin, I think, and he saw me cutting up Megan's old Vogues for this poster project for English class.  He asked me if I was slashing up models out of envy, the jackass, and we got onto this discussion about how unfair it is that people measure you up at a glance."


"Geez, you're right.  Your ears are lopsided.  I can't be seen with you."

"Good thing I have all those other women who like lopsided-eared men just dying for a chance at me. Besides, your left boob is slightly higher than the right. Good thing I took pity on you and allowed you to go out on some dates with me. Sad really. You were perfect in every other way."

He shakes his head sadly, sighing dramatically, and finishes off the salad. He pops his one and only coca-cola and drinks it reverently, as if sipping from the grail. His eyes roll back under his lids and he quakes for a moment in feigned ecstacy.

Sylvia tries to lift her right boob to match the left, a tricky maneuver since her bra is pretty much only a formality.  "They're crooked?  Really?  Maybe if I lean to one side--"  She does it.  "--they'll look even."  She brightens and gives him a purposefully vapid, sweet smile.  "Hey, now your ears are even, too!  This could work."


"Anyway, plastic surgery.  You guys would never consider it?"

"Nope." Colin caught only the last question. "I feel it vaguely dishonest. I want to look old when I'm old. I wonder if I'll get white wrinkly or native american wrinkly, and if my hair will turn really white or it will go gray."

"Are any of your grandparents still alive?"

Colin frowns a bit, out of uncertainty. "My mom's dad died when she was young, and her mom when I was little. Dad... He wasn't proud of his parents. He kind of left his whole family behind... and we lost touch with them. They might be. I don't know."

Sylvia is shamless about the questions she asks, but she has the grace to lower her voice and look concerned.  "Why wasn't your dad proud?"

"I'm not sure, but he really hated alcohol, you know, so I think they might have had problems with that. I think he has told my mom more than she told me, and she's always said that he wouldn't have wanted us to look for them. They didn't come to his funeral."

"Mitzi doesn't like her mom either, and Carolyn doesn't even know where her dad is.  But, like, do you have uncles and aunts?  You might have cousins.  Maybe they're, you know--"  She makes spooky magic fingers.  "--like you."

He smiles. "No, they aren't. They might be R-positive, they might have powers, but they're not like me. I'm one of a kind. The same could apply to you, though, don't you think? Have you ever tried to find out what is your biological family like?"

"I have no idea how to do that."  Sylvia seems to approach the problem as an intellectual exercise.  "Can you look into your magic ball and see that kind of thing?"

"Oh. I guess it's possible. When you're sure you feel like it, let me know, and I'll try."

"How bad can it be?  I bet they're really boring, and they won't be subtitled."  Sylvia pauses.  "Not here, not now, though, right?"

Somewhere, in a rehearsal area, Sammy sings at Nick:

My wildest dreamings
Could not foresee
Lying beside you
With you wanting me  (now spoken) ...2, 3, 4, exchange passionate glance...  She tries to smolder, but instead collapses in giggles.

"Creep!  Stop crossing your eyes at me!"

"Well, technically they might be subtitled... and it's definitely farther than I've ever tried to go. I'd need a bit of concentration, maybe a special place, maybe some stuff. Let me research into it and I'll let you know, ok?"

Sylvia nods.  "Okay."  She nods at Sarah.  "She's the one who asked me why I'm the only one who doesn't know why I do the things I do.  It's kind of been bothering me since then, but I figured someone has to be the freak."

Sarah holds up her hands in defense.  She says, "Don't blame that on me.  I mean, I don't have a clue either.  No one in my family tree has come out of the super closet.  Nothing I could track down at any rate.  I'm just a hiccup.  Oh and I would totally get plastic surgery at some point."

She shrugs away any incredulous looks.  "What?  I'm not saying I'm going to try and look twenty until I'm eighty or anything but I wouldn't mind a little gravity defiance in later years.  And maybe do something with my nose.  Ooh and they have those treatments that can zap freckles and blemishes!" 

"Why were we talking about plastic surgery again?"

"I dunno.  It was that stuff that John was saying yesterday, pretty much.  That and I've been watching Nip/Tuck on DVD.  I guess you watch enough of that and you start to wonder if your life would be any better if you looked different.  Would people like me better if I had bigger boobs?  Would I like the people who liked me?  That kind of thing."

Donnie remembers he's only fourteen. "Ahh boobs. Boobs are nice. On girls that is."  He waggles his pale eyebrows and stares pointedly at Sylvia's chest while he talks.

Sarah shivers, "Icky knives and needles.  Not a show I watch.  I have to close my eyes on all the special effects for CSI.  I personally wouldn't like you any more or less if you had bigger boobs.  You know, unless they were so big they poked me in the eye every time you turned towards me.  Because that would be rude.  But why would you even bother?  With your talents you can look like anyone.  Haven't you played around with that?  Ever walk into a fancy shop disguised as Scarlett Johansson or Zhang Ziyi, or Avril Lavigne?" 

"You know, for some reason it's never occurred to me to do anything like that.  I guess I'm afraid of drawing too much attention or something.  Besides, I wouldn't know what to say.  They're glamorous grown-ups.  They probably talk about, I dunno, charitable causes or Russian novels, and I don't know anything about that."  She pauses to ruminate.  "Would you want to look like that if you could?"

She says, "Well I am pretty happy with how I look but I wouldn't mind a change once in a while just for fun.  It's like dressup.  Besides I doubt they all sit around talking about Russian novels.  If your worried about coping with the conversation level try Paris or Lindsay Lohan."  Sarah winces at the thought and suggests, "Well maybe aim for some sort of middle ground instead."  

"Who's halfway between Lindsay Lohan and, I dunno, Scarlett?"

Colin just shakes his head with a smile at Sarah's consideration about changing something just for fun, but he says nothing.

"You know what would be fun? Going around looking not exactly, but almost like someone famous. That way you'll leave them wondering if it's really you or not, where they have already seen you before."

"Who would you want to look like?" Sylvia asks.

Colin thinks about it a bit. "James Stewart. Or Tom Hanks."

"James Stewart.  You mean Jimmy Stewart?  Isn't he dead?"

"Yes, he is. So? If I had to pick a couple actors I could impersonate, it would be them. Who else do you think I could pull off?"

"I dunno.  You mean, if you could put on someone's skin and look and sound like them, magically?  You're talking about some more intrinsic impersonation than just resembling someone on the outside?"  She thinks.  "I'm not good at this game.  But I can tell who you think you are by who you picked."

"I mean, you could give me their looks, but the behavior would still be mine, wouldn't it? Or are you able to make everyone believe I said something when I really said something else?"


"Really? Do tell me then, please."

"The voice of decency and temperance.  The voice of comfort and--"  Sylvia's clearly fishing, trying to finish off her rhetorical stand with something good.  "--reason.  Yes?  No?"  She invites disagreement.

"Naaah. Me, the voice of reason? The boy that sees stuff?" He laughs.

"You see true stuff," Sylvia chirps back.  "Just because it doesn't make sense at first doesn't mean it doesn't make sense."

"I guess I'd like to be the voice of comfort. I mean I like to think that my skills help me to really understand people, but that not true. Not yet, at least, I need a lot more practice. Reason, I'm not sure. I'd say my guts and my heart most often take the precedence on my mind."

Sylvia bites her tongue and rolls her eyes just a little.  She's glad he was the one to say it.  "Okay.  Physicality I don't know about.  I mean, the options are limited, right?  But if I had to pick someone to be on the basis of personality, it would be. . . . "  She thinks.  "I like Jaime Lee Curtis in Halloween and A Fish Called Wanda.  Ooh, and True Lies.  She's always got gut.  I wish I could be like that."

"I think you are gutsy enough." Colin says with a smile.

"Thanks," is Sylvia's first reaction.  Then she narrows her eyes.  "Do you mean gutsy enough to be Jaime or gutsier than I ought to be?"

"Uh, can I plead the Fifth?" he grins.

*comment deleted*

"You total chicken," Sylvia says, sticking out her tongue.  Bickering with Colin is a hobby for her sometimes.  She does it to relax.  "Donnie--"  Sarah seems busy with her phone.  "--who's your inner movie star?"

Donnie looks back from his lazy survey of the cafeteria and with a completely neutral face says "Brad Pitt, of course." and continues to look around, fighting the smile peeking at the corners of his mouth.

"Of course," Sylvia says with equal sobriety.  "So. . . . "  She stalls.  "I can't think of what to say about Brad Pitt.  I know he's supposed to be cute and all, but he doesn't have much in the way of personality.  I mean, am I missing something?"

"Nope. He's just a handsome devil. I have to admit, probably a little better looking than me."
*smile*

Sylvia sort of blushes.  This would be the start of a game if they were in private.  She'd tell him he was handsomer than Brad Pitt.  Then she'd tell him he could sing better than Justin Timberlake.  Then she'd tell him he was buffer than the Rock.  But Sylvia struggles to maintain her dignity even in schmoopy puppy love and keeps it to herself.  "I dunno.  He's just some guy, to me.  I can't even think of any movie of his I really liked."

"How about Fight Club?" Dave says from behind his most recent book.  He emphasizes the film title.

Donnie flashes Dave a sideways look. "Is there anything you don't know about?"  he mutters. He begins chewing on his bagel.

Sarah waves away Dave's suggestion.  "I preferred him in Snatch.  I loved that movie in general though so I might be biased." 

Donnie is quick to take Sarah's out. "Dags. Ya like dags? E'body likes dags."

"Okay, that one I liked," Sylvia says, "but I didn't see Fight Club.  I guess I just never saw a movie, in which he wasn't part of an ensemble cast, that I liked.  Like he can't carry a movie on his own, but he's okay with George Clooney in Ocean's Eleven.  And yet he has so many cultists that it's hard to come out and say, 'Brad Pitt isn't a leading man.'  It's like saying the emperor has no clothes."

Sarah grins and says, "Actually I like that about him.  He isn't a prima donna, well maybe he isn't.  I don't really know, never met him.  His whole career is full of ensemble cast movies.  He's done a few solos but I think by and large he prefers working with other big names.  I imagine it is probably more fun making a movie that way.  So maybe he isn't a leading man but I think he's still pretty hot.  I saw an interview with Brad, George and Matt for Ocean's twelve and they said they used Brad like a shield with the paparazzi.  "Mr. Clooney over here, Mr. Damon!"  and George just pointed across the way and said, "Hey look it's Brad Pitt" and they'd all run after him.  I still remember that TV commercial like that." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8piAP4rhXhg (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8piAP4rhXhg)

She shakes her head and says, "Though technically if we wanted fame and fortune it probably at this point wouldn't be that hard to get."

Sylvia grins.


Sylvia looks distinctly worried.  The corners of her eyes pinch, and she sucks her lips against her teeth.  "Fame is dangerous."  She doesn't bother to explain yet.  "Did you guys ever think about going public, letting the world know?"

Sarah says, "Totally.  I was going to open my own pizza place with delivery in ten minutes or less or your pizza is free.  I figure I can teleport anywhere in that time as long as the pizza is ready.  I'd be rich!  Rich!  And surrounded by pizza!  It's a perfect plan really.  Only, then people would kind of catch on and they'd bother my family.  You know... about the secret pizza recipe?  Or maybe the fact that they are related to a super.  I can just pop away from a paparazzi but not them."  She sips chocolate milk and shrugs, smiles and finishes, "So I guess I'm going to try and keep this quiet for a while longer if I can."

"I kind of am public. Anybody enough in the know probably knows how to find me. But I guess it's a bit different for me than for you guys."

"I wonder if there's a market for someone to act as sort of a personal assistant to super heroes?"  Rob says, "I mean rich people have personal shoppers and life consultants that pick up their dry cleaning and stuff.  I wonder if I could get a job as the personal assistant to some super hero.  That would be cool."

"I know that a few have agents, like actors.  The Justice Family in St. Louis are basically incorporated, and the Avengers in New York.  They probably have someone like that on staff."  Greg has taken a break from his notebook to ponder the question with Rob.

Sammy staggers in under the load of a cinegel swatch book.  She unceremoniously dumps it in front of Greg.  "You.  I'm supposed to ask you which "blue" and which "red".  I have no idea what that's supposed to mean except Nick is arguing with Melissa about it and she's threatening him with "yellow" and dry ice in his costume."  She sits down and sighs tiredly.  "I'm going to hide here for a little while if you dont mind."

Greg begins to glance back and forth between the book and Sammy, looking for the right colors.

Rob joins him, a look that conveys he has no idea what he's looking for.

Dave hands Sammy a chocolate chip cookie and a bottle of water.  "I see you're begining to suffer the npressure of stardom."

Sylvia looks up at Sammy.  "Your hair is different," she declares.  "It looks good on you."

Then she says, "So what are the drawbacks of fame and the public life?"

Sammy puts her hand up to her hair in a self-conscious gesture.  "Really?  Thanks.  It was Col..."  She sees Sarah there and thinks maybe its not such a good idea to credit Sarah's boyfriend with a Sammy looks-improvement tip.  "I saw a drawing and thought it might work.  I got a little help from a couple of the Drama Club kids with putting it together."


"No privacy.  No chance to just do what you want to do because someone's always watching, always judging."

"I can't go public. You imagine the hoopla over the revelation that there are dragons in the world? Out come the scientists with their scalpels and syringes."

"And there are people who look for people like me," Sylvia says, made paranoid by the life of her mentor.  "I don't want to wind up a tool for some secretive government agency."

Ten years from now, when she's drawing her lean but steady GS-12 check from the NSA, she'll wryly tell people her job title is "Tool," but for now the prospect of being recruited into what would surely prove a fascist and regimented black-ops machine terrifies her.

Sammy says.  "If I went public, especially as a Djinn, it could have a very bad impact on my family.  Its better to keep it low key."

Sarah says, "So these supers have personal assistants.  That's pretty cool and it makes sense but, where does the money come from?  I mean how do you keep your anonymity and get the money to pay for the superheroing?  Rich anonymous benefactors?  Corporate or Government backing?  Any which way seems like suddenly you wouldn't be calling the superhero shots anymore.  I mean you're running to the rescue and you suddenly get an IM telling you that we're in trade disagreements with such and such company, country, whatever and maybe it would be in all our best interests for them to not get saved." 

"And other than my possibly flawed pizza delivery plan I don't have many hopes of becoming rich to support my new dirty heroing habit." 

"Well, most of the organized super groups have backing, either federal or state, sometimes private trusts." Rob says between bites of food.  "Hell, with the grant process the way it is you could probably apply for a federal grant to set up a super group."

"I'm not sure it would be right to gain money from it." Colin considers.

"Well, it's not like they're getting rich, except the Justice family.  I mean these guys risk life and limb.  At least this way they can make some money to pay their bills and not have to worry about trying to juggle a full time job and do the hero thing.  I read this study that says the main reason the percentage of people with powers that never use them is so high is because of the pressures they feel they'd be under if they tried to use their powers for good."

Sarah looks at Colin, "Why not?  Funds pay for food, equipment, research, a place to hang our hats.  While I'm cool with the fallout shelter for now it's probably not going to meet our needs soon.  Not to mention after next summer Greg will be off at college and It's not so cool sneaking into other families property uninvited.  Plus that's not really fare to them.  If some nasty piece of work does track us down do we want someone's family being put in danger?  A fund could pay for things that otherwise we would have to be sweating through afterschool jobs to try and cover."

Donnie seems surprised at Colin's comment. "Police get paid. Firefighters get paid. Military people get paid. All risk life and limb for their fellow man, or governement. WHy shouldn't people with powers get the same? Besides.."  He looks over towards the cheerleaders table "you could always find a rich benefactor or someone with immense trust funds who doesn't mind flashing their money around."

Sammy goes slightly on the defensive.  Donnie has struck a nerve.  Were he an older, more experienced man, he might recognize the storm warnings going up.  In a too-casual voice she asks,"Is that what you think I'm doing by dating Elrod?  Using him for his money?"

Donnie is not, unfortunately, an older, more experienced man. He laughs. "No, you are just using him for the sex. Him being a rich dude is just the crumbly topping on the cherry cobbler. Mmmm, cherry cobbler.."

Somewhere, a plastic spork snaps.  White paper napkins ruffle in a sudden breeze.  An exhaust vent moans from the extra air pressure.  "Yes,"  says Sammy.  "That must be it.  That's the only reason a wealthy, good looking senior would even bother with a freshman girl.  For the sex."

Sarah sits very quietly without a clue as to how to diffuse the situation.  Maybe something supernatural will happen... please?

OOC: Something  does  (http://www.groovygamers.com/forum/index.php/topic,5060.0.html)

Donnie gets the first inkling that all may not be right in the world around him. "No, I said you were using him. And it was just a joke." He looks back at Sammy, who sits stock still and glaring back at him.


CRASH!!!!

The day after the meeting, Colin looks for Dave at their usual table.

"Hi, Dave. So, you're going to the MIT next year?"

"Maybe."  Dave says from behind his current book.  "I may see if I can pull some strings to let Wilde get the scholarship, he obviously wants it more than I do."

"Why? I mean, how can you be not interested in the MIT?"

He chews on his lower lip.

"How exactly did you gain the scholarship?"

"I'm in a constant state of flux.  It's who I am."

"How exactly did you gain the scholarship?"
[/quote]

"I applied.  You write an essay about your goals, the types of things that interest you, what you'd like to get out of college.  Nothing too out of the ordinary.  I guess they go over all the applicants and then pick one somehow."

"Ah, no tests, or projects to show one's skills? You must have been pretty convincing." Colin shakes his head "Of course you were. You're Dave. I forgot who I was talking to." he smiles.

"Where do you feel like going at the moment? Harvard? Yale?"

"No clue yet.  Still researching it."  Dave lowers his book to look at Colin.  "Why the sudden interest in my college career?"

"It's just that when I found out you are supposed to go to the MIT, it caught me by surprise. Not because you wouldn't deserve it. I think you are able to achieve anything you really want. It's just because... I dunno... you always seem so relaxed, even when the craziest stuff happens around you. I think I'm a bit jealous. I'd like to be like that."

"That my young friend comes from years of apathy.  Someday, you too may be able to master that skill."

"Can you major in Apathy?" asks Sarah with a touch of hope. 

"I did."  Dave said, sticking his head back in his book.  "Then you guys came along and made me change my major."

Colin grins. "Really? What's your major now?"

"Hero support."  Is Dave's answer.

"We never thank you enough, Dave," Sylvia says from her corner of the table.

Sarah says, "That's true.  What can we do for you Dave?  Think about it and get back to us.  Flowers?  Box of chocolates?  I could get you into the Super Bowl.  We could pop from Box to Box eating all the tasty snacks."

"I could find you a date," Sylvia says, pleased as punch with her recent success with Smith.  "I'm good at the match making.  It's my new super power."

"My last date earned me five grand.  So maybe I'll become a professional escort."

Sorry, nothing here.

Colin's mouth drops. He looks like he might be asking a question, or maybe several ones, but he stops just in time. "Errr... Never mind. Not my business."

Sylvia looks mystified, and she has less shame than Colin.  "What is it you do for five thousand dollars?"  She pauses and looks at Donnie.  "And can you do that, too?"

Dave laughs.  "Elrod's sister wanted an escort to our Homecoming dance.  Elrod suggested me, and she gave me five grand to be her escort and wear a tux.  I'd have done it for less, but she didn't negotiate.  Go figure."

Sarah quips, "Starting up an after school business Sylvia?  Donnie, from now on you're called Deuce."

Sylvia manages to sound prim.  "If Donnie has any hidden talents, I'd like to know about them.  That's all."

Another question forms on Colin's lips, and this time he has to shut himself with a hand. "Donnie, you...? Uhmpf, sorry, not my business either."

Donnie leaps to his feet, shoulders back, chest thrust out, fists on hips. He raises on knee to his chair in true Captain Morgan form and tosses his hair as if he were Prince Charming. With an artistic tilt to his head he says "If any ladies are needing..."  but he can't hold it and collapses in giggling laughter. "Sorry, can't do it. Afterschool studmuffin is not going to make it on my college resume."

He opens his mouth to say something to Dave, but his eyes sidle towards Sammy's table and he clamps his mouth shut. Maybe boys can learn new tricks.

"I am a wellspring of hidden feats and talents. I'll let you know when I find out what they are."

Sylvia cracks the whip.  "Not just any ladies.  One lady.  One perfect lady for whom you must pine.  Don't you read any romance novels?"


Sylvia ponders that with too much of a gleam in her eye.  "Sarah," she says, as if posing a game-show challenge, "what are Colin's hidden talents?"

OOC:  I guess Sammy is in the area after all!

Sammy is sitting at a table with a bunch of the kids associated with the drama club.  She's wedged between Sylvia's sister Ginny and that guy she'll be performing with, Nick Hurley.  From the distance of the US table, it looks like a rather lively and entertaining conversation is going on.  A smiling, relaxed Sammy is laughing about something.

Ginny very much likes to be the center of attention and likes to play hard to get even more.  Now that she and Greg seem to have a semi-regular thing going on, she's been playing an elaborate game in which she's heartbreakingly sweet to him in private and saucily aloof in public.  Every outfit, every gesture, every time she wets her lips or leans across the table, she's trying to win away a little of his obsession with his craft.  Ginny doesn't need a boyfriend.  She needs a cult.

Nevertheless, she's a vivacious and generous friend.  But she's as emotionally needy and demonstrative as Sylvia is self-contained and sometimes stolid.

Out of left field. "I am thinking of trying out for a play. Not sure which one, but part of me want's to see if my gaming table acting skills translate to the stage at all. I dunno about being in front of an auditorium of people though. That thought gives me butterflies."

"Seriously?"  Sylvia smiles at that, pondering the possibilities.  "That'd be cool.  I'd be your groupie.  You'd have to sign my programs."

Donnie looks really excited. "You could faint when I walk by and throw your underwear up on the stage after the performance! That's be great!"

He's joking. She thinks. There is that wicked gleam in his eye.

"But then everyone would see my Wonder Woman Underoos, and they'd know my secret identity."

"Well there goes that idea" he replies, looking forlorn.

Colin is looking at Sarah with an expression that is clearly begging for something, but he doesn't say anything.

Sarah rolls her eyes.  "Sylvia, if I told everyone about Colin's hidden talents they wouldn't be hidden and then I'd have to go around beating up all the girls that start hitting on him."

She grins at Colin and heads over to give him a smootch.  She hugs him and looks fiercely around the room.  "Mine."

Colin snuggles in Sarah's embrace. "Definitely."

From the other table, Sammy sees Colin and Sarah getting all snooky-wooky-cutie-pie.  In an automatic response, she looks around the cafeteria for Elrod but doesn't spot him.  As the animated chatter continues around her, a disappointed expression drifts across her face and threatens to take up residence.  She stomps it down.  She doesn't know who's watching, who's waiting to take advantage of any weak moment.  She subconsciously begins to emulate Ginny's aloofness.