Jamison Johnson

Passing by a figure, she glanced over, slim strands of honeyed hair falling across her face, her shirt slightly untucked from all the lifting. “Do you have the time? It’s never where it should be.“

"Nine forty-two." It took him a moment to add, "Do you need help?"

There was a peculiar emptiness to his words. A familiar emptiness, if she was being honest, the tone that came from someone who was tired and just had to force words through their mouth. Eliza had never been on this side of a conversation though. Sure, she knew other people that could be quiet, like Amelia sometimes, but this boy treated speaking like a herculean effort almost, walking too, and perhaps even living.

Maybe he too just wanted to sink into the ground below them and disappear.

“You don’t have to talk. I promise I won’t think you’re rude.”

Not Eliza though. More so than not pushing for further conversation, she was actually giving him the okay to not talk at all. And for that she earned the first genuine smile he'd offered someone in… a while. "Thank you." He said, taking her up on her offer and letting their walk back to his new dorm be one in silence, just the solid thump of shoes on concrete as they walked.

“That’s a good sentiment to have, I think. Why worry about what you can’t change?” As if it was that easy. Amelia wished it was. She smiled at Jamison, finding him interesting in a sort of innocent way. He was less intimidating than some of the other boys and his awkwardness was endearing. “Magic can be cool, yes. It can be dangerous and scary, too, however. I know some of the boys are having trouble adjusting. Even some of the Wardlaw students have trouble with magic, honestly.” Amelia said rather matter-of-factly.

It was easier to breath when not surrounded by throngs of people, and he smiled as he shook his head. "Not particularly. I'll probably end up getting a few books; I usually do. But coming out was just a better option than staying back this time. Yourself?"

“Lovely to meet you, Jamison.” She replied, then listened quietly as he explained his feelings about Wardlaw in a rather roundabout way. She was beginning to see why he might not have been paying attention to walking. His mind appeared to be a swirly kind of place.

“I think that’s understandable. From what I saw of Dumfries, it was an old campus like this. Although, I doubt it had all the charms on it. Opening doors, chairs pushing themselves in, and the like.” She giggled quietly.

A moment too late he realized he should have returned the sentiment, but the conversation had already moved on and he just kept muddling forward, trying to remember when he’d been reletively good at this; at meeting new people, making new friends. He’d known his fellow Dumfries students for... ever, it seemed. He didn’t have to work to know them, to talk to them; he was already so ingrained in the Dumfries social strata that he barely needed to make an effort, even before his mind was clouded with little pills, when it was just crowded with random, sometimes useless information or answers to the next test. 

That hadn’t hurt when he felt the need to socialize, having seemingly all the answers. 

The mention of magic made him shrug. He had bigger things to worry about, though he knew some of his schoolmates didn’t feel quite the same way. “It’s taking some getting used to,” he admitted. “But it is what it is, I suppose. There’s nothing I can do about it, so why worry about it.” Another too long moment, and he realized that may insult her, be too flippant about her and her fellow Wardlaw’s abilities. “Not that it’s not cool, of course.” He amended, hoping to ease any insult he may have stumbled into. Girls could be finicky about what did and didn’t insult them. 

The haziness in his eyes felt familiar to her. She had often been in a fog over the past few years, although she assumed he was groggy for reasons that didn’t involve chronic pain. Then again, she’d never know, probably.

She introduced herself, and he realized the conversation wasn't going to end there, as he would have suspected it to. "Jamison." He answered, not furthering the conversation, though it didn't seem necessary; she was willing to keep it going. Good; maybe he wouldn't have to lie to his parents about socializing today after all. "It's… new. But that's redundant I suppose." He said with a chuckle. "It's like Dumfries, but not; same classes, different teachers; same heavy library, different people, old buildings but not the ones I'm used to." He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken so much, and to someone he didn't even know at that. "Is it strange having us there?"

A breeze caught her hair up, sending it flying around her face. It truly was a beautiful day; At last, the English winter had been dreadful, cold, gray, and seemingly endless. A far cry from winter in South America. 

She startled a bit when the boy spoke again. She hadn’t really expected him to make conversation with her. He hadn’t seemed the type for small talk and that was what this was-there was no way he actually cared about her routine, surely. 

“My routine?” she asked, quizzically. “No, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t already want to walk back. If you want to talk about ruined routines, all of you Dumfries boys being here has shot our normal through the heart. I suppose it’s much worse for all of you though.”

And it wasn't that he didn't care about the girls. It was just so much effort already just to worry about his own affairs. He didn't have the effort to spare to worry about everyone else.

"Oh good." He replied vaguely, meaning good that he wasn't interrupting her routine, though he realized a split second too late that it might be construed a different way, and amended, "that I'm not interrupting right now." He trailed into silence for a moment before adding the proper apology her words implied wanting. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. It's worse for both in different ways, I'd think." Though to be honest, he didn't think much on it; that too, was a little too much effort than he had to spare.

Alfie was getting used to it now– the way the library was set out. He had found the book he needed with relative ease this time, subtly avoiding the magical section. The real problem was when he needed to find a seat and it was like there was a designated seating plan, though different from every other time he had been in there. Girls sat in groups, whispering across the table, spinning books to show the others an interesting passage. As he walked past them, their eyes turned to look him up and down. Their mouths stayed closed in a tight-lipped scowl, but they were saying more than enough.

When he saw Jamison tucked away in the corner, he felt a sigh or relief escape his lips. He made his way over, book tucked tightly under his arm, but he looked too engrossed in his book for Alfie to interrupt him. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he stood as patiently as he could manage until he was finally acknowledged. He let out a small laugh, slipping into the seat next to him. “Thanks, I didn’t want to interrupt anything, but everyone else in here is a bit…– territorial.”

He smiled, though it was a little vacant, at the sight of Alfie. The other boy was nice, overwhelmingly so in comparison with Jamison, who's version of nice was shy-tinged smiles and usually silence. But with the edges of calm still hanging around his brain, he didn't find the presence of someone else too much. He was too calm, too dazed even, to have that bother him when it normally would.

"Territorial…" he thought about the sideways looks the boys had gotten since arriving, the secretive giggles behind delicate hands, the judging gazes that told the boys they didn't know anything about the girls, not really, and he nodded in agreement. "That's a good word for it." He didn't bother moving his things out of the way; his bag was forgotten under his chair and the book he'd been staring at was the only book he had out. His skin heated uncomfortably, though it took a second too long to realize it was because anyone truly studying could tell if they took the time to realize he probably wasn't studying. "You're not interrupting anything, don't worry. Even if you were, safer here than trying to break into one of their-" he nodded to the nearest table of Wardlaw girls- "circles." It was meant as a joke, though it came out a little flat, but he didn't really notice.

Among the gaggle of students heading into town, Amelia stood a bit further off from the rest. She fiddled with the hem of her denim jacket, her gaze nervously bobbing around at the various backs of heads. She was mostly behind the crowd of people, following suit. Some of them had been into town before, but for Amelia this was her first year to have the opportunity, obviously.

On the down side, it was town. And with quite a few students. On the plus side, the day was the kind he preferred, not too sunny, everything painted in cloud-filtered light and making the world softer somehow, easier to take, easier to drift away in. And that was exactly what was happening, even as he walked with the movement of the crowd; drifted away within his mind, forgetting where he was and what he was doing.

But then the back of his shoe didn’t move with him, stayed pinned to the ground and he tripped a little, bringing him crashing back to reality to catch himself before he actually fell. He turned to see a dark haired girl- a Wardlaw girl, not a townie- apologizing with a delicate frown, and he found himself shaking his head, shaking off her apology. “It’s fine. I should have been paying attention.” He hadn’t meant for that to come out with the edge of bitterness. It wasn’t this girl’s fault he didn’t want to be in the moment. He cleared his throat, tried to make his tone friendlier. “Are you alright?”

The second was the undercurrent of something else, something that reminded her unpleasantly of her mother towards the end, something heavy, muffling everything.

She recognized him from classes and meals. It was easy to take notice of the other person, like her, hovering on the periphery of things, silent and cautious. After all she knew better than most that it was the quiet ones you should keep your eye on.

She’d spent too long staring already. “The boys are all in the East wing,” she said, “I’m heading back anyway, I can show you where it is.”

“I’m Eliza, by the way,” she added as she took a few leading steps in the right direction, wondering if he would follow her.

He followed her almost unconsciously, mimicking her steps back toward the buildings, nodding in agreement to a question she hadn't asked, to her offer to walk him back. "Thank you." He tried to make his voice a little more lively, a little more normal. He was aware not everyone would be willing to walk him back to the dorm he'd been placed in, aware that if he didn't want to arise questions- he'd never cared before but before he'd never had anything real to hide; everything was different now at Wardlaw- he should at least pretend to be on the same level as the other students.

She was introducing herself, something he almost missed thinking about how he should be acting more social. Great start. This was why he didn't bother; even thinking about being normal made him misstep being normal. "Jamison." He returned. What to say next? To announce he was one of the Dumfries transfers seemed stupid; she obviously knew that based on the simple fact he wasn't a girl. To say he was new was the same problem. Could he turn the conversation to her? That seemed safe enough. "Am I interrupting your routine?"