Logs:Southern Drawls, Pencil Draws

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Southern Drawls, Pencil Draws
Dramatis Personae

Naomi, Zeke

2020-11-16


I haven't heard too many folks with a drawl as thick as mine around here.

Location

'<XAV> Library - Xs First Floor'


Xavier's librarian might hope the library is a quiet place to sit and study, but with a school full of teenagers that is not always the case. Nevertheless, it is certainly a treasure trove of knowledge, well-stocked with a wealth of books on its high shelves. Its reference section is vast, though its fiction is as well (much to the delight of many of its students.) The wide octagonal tables and smaller armchairs are often crowded with students, though the whispered conversations that often take place leave some doubt as to how much work is getting done at any given hour.


Naomi is perched at one of the tables, shivering slightly in her grey Xavier’s hoodie and distressed jeans. In front of her is yet another practice exam, this one lighter on the computer coding and heavier on short answer questions, mostly about puberty and physiological changes. She’s stuck on one of these questions now, chews the end of the hoodie’s drawstring as she contemplates the vastness of Human Development. She puts the tip of her mechanical pencil to the paper - the lead snaps immediately. “Shit,” she swears quietly, under her breath.

Cold, cold, cold—why did it have to be so cold in New York? Zeke thought to himself as he wondered through the stacks of the Xavier's School library. He had layered his hooded black leather jacket over his oversizd red sweatshirt which was on top of a black t-shirt and yet he could still feel the chill of the brisk Autumn day against his skin. Zeke ran his hands along the high bookshelf in front of him until he found what he was looking for; "How To Prepare Your Portfolio" by Ed Marquand. Zeke added the book to the pile already in his arms, then he left the relative isolation of the stacks and walked over to the tables where multiple students were busy studying in various configurations from solo work to partner studying to full-on group projects. As Zeke made his way to a small empty table situated under a window in the far side of the library, he heard somewhere swear underneath their breath. Zeke looked over at the offending part "Scuse' you," he said playfully—he hoped that the wry smile on his face showed that he was faking offense. He looked down at the paper and broken lead in front of the girl. "I have some extra lead you can use," Zeke placed his books on the table, rummaged through his backpack, and produced a box of pencil lead. He slid the box over to the girl. "Take as much as you need. I reckon you'll need more than one."

At the voice, Naomi straightens up, eyes widening with alarm. “Sh- shoot, ‘m sorry-“ She twists around in her chair, cutting her apology short when she clocks the stranger and the look on his face. “You’re makin’ fun of me,” she says, Southern accent coming out strong and pointed in her distaste. A brief scowl is displaced quickly by surprise. “Oh.” Her hand curls around the lead. “Thanks.” A beat as Naomi scans over the pile of books. “There’s space here,” Naomi says slowly, cautiously, “if you’re looking for a spot to study.”

Zeke smiles at the girl's reaction. "Na, not pokin' fun. Just foolin'," he said as he pulled out a chair, accepting the girl's offer. "I appreciate the offer. I'm Zeke. It's a pleasure to know ya." Zeke sat down, pulled his chair closer to the table, then began leafing through one of the books in his pile. "Nice accent by the way. I haven't heard too many folks with a drawl as thick as mine around here," Zeke laughed briefly, then he quickly held his hands up in apology. "I'm just foolin' again, no harm meant. So, what subject is giving you such a hard time that you've gotta take it out on that there pencil?" Zeke's lips were already formed into a wry smile again, gently creasing the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and lighting up his face like a 10,000-watt lightbulb.

It’s a moment before Naomi cracks a small smile, evidently deciding that there was no dig in Zeke’s comment. “Naomi.” She makes quick work of reloading her pencil with the offered lead. “There’s a couple o’ folks from Georgia here - me, Lael, Mr. Holland, some others. Don’t stop some folks from making fun o’ accents, though.” She pokes the end of her pencil underneath the scales on her temples, glancing from packet to Zeke. “Health ’n Human Dev. Required class.” Rolls her eyes, exasperated, before pointing her pencil at Zeke. “You new. They ain’t making you take exams, are they?”

Zeke nodded at Naomi's offered name. "A pleasure," he repeated. He pulled a practice AP Art booklet from his backpack and began making some portfolio notes. "I have some relatives over in Georgia," he said without looking up from his work. "Older great aunts and uncles—no one I'm really close to or anything." Zeke pulled a sketchpad out of his backpack and began marking pages with potential portfolio ordering. "I keep hearin' about this Mr. Holland. He's the art teacher, right? Maybe he could help me get back on track towards gettin' into AP Art by my Senior year. I've already missed almost the entire first term of my Sophomore year—I reckon I'm a bit behind." Finally, Zeke looked up from his work. "Let the Northerners laugh; everyone laughs a bit of Southern charm," Zeke said, exaggerating his accent. "Health 'n Human Development doesn't sound too interestin', but I guess required classes rarely are," he said with a laugh. "Exams? Lord no. I just rolled in last week and I've been out of school for months. The Professor said I can take the rest of the term to get acquainted and acclimated. I officially start next term." Zeke yawned. "It's so dang cold here. I'm bout ready for a nap; I might skip lunch and go do that." Zeke ran a hand over his neat afro. "I didn't mean to distract you from your studyin'."

Naomi nods. “Also a terrorist or something. Cool eyepatch. Makes great cookies.” Now her mouth quirks upwards into a little smirk, watching for Zeke’s reaction. “Sure when he’s done doing whatever in the city, he can help ya.” She snorts at the put-upon drawl. She watches with curiosity as Zeke flips through the sketchpad, craning her neck for a better look. “Oh. Have fun this week, then. Rest of us’ll be suffering.” Naomi curls back into her chair, hand curled around the pack of lead. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Thanks for the lead.” She pulls out a few more sticks before passing the box back to Zeke. “See you ‘round, then.”

Zeke's expression sobers a bit briefly at the flippant Mutant 'terrorist' joke, but the flash of seriousness only lasts a moment. "I do enjoy cookies," he says quickly while standing and gathering his things. "I think I'll check these books out and finish up my studyin' in my room." Zeke smiles at Naomi. "I'll be sure to enjoy my last few weeks of freedom," he says as he takes the box of lead and places it in his bag. "Hey, there's a little town a bit from here, right? I was thinkin' of maybe going' out to see the sights this weekend. Maybe I'll see you around." Without waiting for a response, Zeke turned and walked over to the librarian's desk to check out his stack of reference books.