#henrietta.

O fato de ter se mudado para a mesma cidade da ex-esposa anos depois de terem seu casamento encerrado (apenas verbalmente) na Flórida poderia soar esquisito para qualquer um, e Cody constantemente via-se querendo arranjar justificativas para o que havia feito. Foi a primeira universidade que o aceitaram. Era uma cidade longe, pequena e pacata, e portanto, a NASA não conseguiria incomodá-lo tão fácil. Facilitaria o processo de divórcio, estendido por tempo demais! ... No fim das contas, não importava o quanto tentasse racionalizar sua ida, ainda parecia esquisito para quem ouvisse de fora. Poderia-se argumentar que Cody não havia superado o relacionamento de quinze anos, mas ele diria que estava bem, muito bem! Tão bem, que havia já retomado as pesquisas que lhe empolgaram tanto há alguns anos atrás. No seu ritmo, com seus meios, fundada pelo seu dinheiro, única e exclusivamente. Nem estava pensando tanto em Henrietta assim. Quer dizer, não tanto quanto pensava há alguns meses atrás. Pensava normalmente! Com um recém-separado-que-não-havia-assinado-os-papéis deveria pensar. Era o que ele achava, pelo menos. Talvez alguém dessa categoria não devesse estar ligando para o número da ex-esposa no início da madrugada, pedindo para que ela fosse até sua nova casa, porque precisava debater sobre uma parte terrível da pesquisa que não parecia ser destravada-- e ainda não havia conseguido bem estudar sem ela. Normal, não é? Aquilo devia ser normal. Tão normal quanto a velocidade absurda a qual atravessou a sala de estar para chegar na porta quando a campainha foi soada, tropeçando nos próprios pés. ❛❛ —- Henri--! ❜❜ a ansiedade não durou muito. Não estava acostumado com a carranca dela ser dirigida exclusivamente a si, apesar de todas as brigas que se sucederam ao divórcio. “Divórcio”. Esperava que não precisassem tocar nesse assunto hoje. Ugh, que balde de água fria. ❛❛ —- Caham. Eu prometo que vai ser rápido. É que... Eu... Queria uma opinião. E você... Bem. A gente trabalhou junto por muito tempo, é, hm... ❜❜ eu queria te ver. Queria muito te ver. ❛❛ —- Entra, eu te explico melhor. ❜❜

Reina only has so much patience built in her to deal with her begging five year old before she eventually gives in to her demands, and it’s part of the reason the spoiled little girl gets whatever she wants. Today’s fixation is on Henrietta’s pig, an animal that’s become a staple in Iris’s life much to Reina’s eternal bitterness. She hates the thing, thinks it’s absolutely disgusting but Iris is obsessed with it and so she ends up having to bring her daughter to Etta’s to play with it more often than she’d like. Normally she’d be beyond irritated to have to go out of her way just to see a fucking pig, but today the visit to Etta’s isn’t entirely unwelcome. Her mind’s been reeling lately, weighed down with a lot of shit she’d rather bury deep than talk about but Reina knows if she doesn’t at least tell someone what’s on her mind she’ll explode, and that won’t be good for anyone in her general vicinity when she does. She can’t talk to Naomi about it, not when her sister-in-law lost her husband completely, but she needs to talk to someone and somehow over the last five years, Henrietta has become that go-to person for her. Reina still likes to think of herself as someone who doesn’t need anyone, but she can’t deny the fact that Etta’s been there to lend an ear even when she didn’t feel like talking.

The miniature pig in question is easily found the minute they step foot in the house and Reina’s nose immediately wrinkles in disgust, as it always does, and not for the first time she finds herself wondering why she’d let her daughter around something so disgusting. Then she feels Iris tugging at the hem of her dress and Reina remembers that anything to keep her busy and the fuck away from her is something she can get on board with. “Go play.” The push she gives her daughter in the pig’s direction is a little too forceful, a little too distracted, and a little too much like how she treats her sons but Reina will make it up to her later in the form of a Barbie Dream House or something equally as materialistic. Now, she needs adult time. “Etta?” She calls out as she makes her way into the kitchen, making herself right at home. “My kid wanted to play with your barn animal.”

BASICS

NAME: Henrietta Joanne Faulkner. DATE OF BIRTH: February 5th, 1995.  AGE: Sixteen. GRADE LEVEL: Junior. FACECLAIM: Margaret Qualley. alternates: Liana Liberato PRONOUNS: She/they.

STUDENT FILE

GPA: 1.2 — Henry doesn’t care, and has been in danger of failing for a lot of her school. She always manages to keep things above a failing grade, though just barely. EXTRACURRICULARS: If hotboxing Art’s car in the school parking lot before driving to Dairy Queen counts, she’s a star player.   DISCIPLINARY HISTORY: She was suspended for the longest amount of time in school history, and nearly expelled after she attacked Xander Nichols unprovoked — she broke his nose pretty badly, and gave him a mild concussion. STUDENT SINCE: September 2006.

FIELD TRIP INFORMATION

ITEMS ON PERSON: A lighter, and some pot in a smell proof bag. A Swiss Army Knife that’s been confiscated by different teachers, her Kodak disposable camera (she gets a new one every week, it’s unknown what she takes pictures of) and cinnamon gum and lotion to hide the smell of pot on her hands and breath. ITEMS IN OVERNIGHT BAG: Clothes and undergarments for the next day. More pot. REASON FOR ATTENDANCE: Her and Art were caught smoking again, and were told they had to attend the trip or face expulsion.

BIOGRAPHY

There are two things Henrietta knows to be absolutely true: life doesn’t treat everyone fairly, and the grass is always greener on the other side. She always wished her parents would be a little less committed, a little less overbearing — she was certain there was some latchkey kid out there, wishing for family dinners and Spring Break vacations, but that wasn’t her. How could it be, when she felt so alienated in her own living room?

Thus: she regrets everything they love. Maybe it’s teenage angst, maybe she’s just really prioritizing her own interests. But they love Halloween, decorating their own home as a haunted house. She’s never seen a horror movie. Her father loves to grill and her mother loves to bake, but she never eats any of the food they make, even if they try to accommodate her veganism. It’s hard, feeling so out of place in life. But she just lights up a joint and tries to forget about it.

Henry’s always been quiet, relatively unassuming, and controversial: her last big drama was biting Lauren Hall during study hall freshman year. This kickstarted two rumours: she was a lesbian into some ‘freaky shit’, or that she had rabies. Both of them contributed to her relative notoriety, until later in the year when Art, her only friend, attempted suicide. Then came the attack of his main tormentor: she broke Xander’s nose in a fight. Now, beating up a football player is her only claim to fame.  

PERSONALITY

Attachment has always been difficult for Henry. She often times feels like she’s just floating through life, a ghost with nothing keeping her tethered to earth. Some might say it’s apathy, but she disagrees: sometimes, it’s better to not care. Life might just be easier that way.

Loyalty, however, is like second nature. It takes a long time to earn her trust, but once you have Henry committed, she’s there for life. Limited amount of friends (well, friend) are people she’d kill for — and as much as she dislikes them, she would do anything for her family.

Henrietta Faulkner isn’t concerned with ambition. How can she be, when everyone’s already told her she’s a useless stoner going nowhere? Maybe her goals aren’t lofty, Harvard doctorate aspirations — but she just wants to be happy. Isn’t that enough?

CONNECTIONS

ARTHUR NORTON — Her best and only friend. She tells him everything, and is appreciative ten times over for the companionship and the listening ear. She’s protective of him ever since their sophomore year, when the notorious bathroom incident became lore in the halls of Eureka High. And if she years anyone mention it — they might have another Xander on their hands.

XANDER NICHOLS — Speaking of the devil, Xander is Henry’s worst nightmare. More than Lauren Hall and her gaggle of academia freaks, more than Abbie Shabat and her collection of cheer squad airheads. She hates him, not in a level of high school pettiness, but real and raw and ready for revenge. She wishes she’d done far worse to him when she had the chance.