#jen.

She’d woken up this morning before the sun, filled with a restless discontent. The Foxes had won, but she didn’t have the bone-deep tiredness that came from playing a full-out game to lull her to sleep. Instead, it was just a big ole nothingness: sitting on a plane—(for the first time in her life)—just to go sit on a bench. 

Just to turn around and sit on a plane again.

She’d spent the journey to California glued to the window, trying to make out the ground through the breaks in the clouds. She was equal parts rapt and tense, her heart in her throat with every shift and bump. It had felt silly—she’d felt every inch the smalltown girl, the one who’d never been out of Missouri until she’d hitchiked her way out. Most of the time, she doesn’t try to hide it, but this time she’d wanted to. She’s got pride, after all. She feels equally on edge in this airport: there’s just so many people, all of them tense and hurrying to-and-fro. She feels like she can’t hear herself think, like it’s all pressing in on her. 

There’s a frazzled family, parents trying to herd their children to their destination, laden down with all of their belongings. Glory, her gaze drawn out the window to the waiting planes all lined up in a row, swerves at the last minute to get out of their way—and straight into someone else. 

"Fuck!” She says, a little bit too loud as she stumbles and rights herself, her bag slipping off her shoulder and her team water bottle falling out of her hands and rolling into the mass of seats and people by the gate. At her swearing, the parents of the family she’d just avoided running into give her twin dirty looks, and all she can do is stand there. Close her eyes, pinch the bridge of her nose until she doesn’t feel like she’s going to scream. 

She cracks one eye open and then—when she sees the person she ran into is, at least, someone she knows in passing—the other one. “Sorry, I just—well, sorry.” 

teddy: yo

teddy: [...]

teddy: i'm sorry about what happened

teddy: you doing okay??

teddy: [...]

teddy: probably should've texted earlier

          Ripley had been avoiding everyone in the Vixen Den since coming back from fall break. The conversation with Etta had been helpful and seeing family always managed to put Ripley in a better mood. But there was still guilt there for leaving everyone alone during the holiday, especially when Etta mentioned just how awful Marshall had been to them. That honestly just put Ripley in a sour mood, knowing that Marshall had purposefully made the uploads on his Instagram look enticing enough to draw Ripley back in. Why did Marshall care? One of Ripley’s friends from Calculus had asked what was wrong, but the question had been neatly avoided, like most personal questions. There was a bit of an adjustment period for teachers and students coming back from break, getting back to waking up at a decent time to get to classes and focusing on something other than hobbies. At least Ripley had managed to do homework over break and hadn’t waited until the last second. With this semester nearing the end, Ripley was getting more excited at the prospect of getting into classes that were more interesting subjects. And with only one more English class left from the general education classes, the end was near. 

          In order to avoid running into any Vixens at the Den, Ripley had decided to meet Jen for coffee off campus. There was really no reason to avoid anyone. Ripley just felt like explaining the obvious mood shift would be more work than necessary. The Vixen wasn’t entirely sure where this conversation was going to go. After the short text conversation, Ripley had done some research to try and figure a few things out and maybe make this conversation a little easier, but it had been a headache and Ripley was more lost now than when the research had begun. Ripley waved Jen over when they walked in because the purple, pink, and blue hair would probably throw them for a loop. “Hey. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just ordered some black tea for myself. But here,” Ripley pulled out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to Jen, “you can go order something for yourself.” 

PALENTINES DAY ASKS / UNPROMPTED / ACCEPTING! @devilscheck