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"Okay, good work, everyone." Damian lied. He hates group projects-- he especially hates group projects with anyone other than his trusty best friends-- he especially, especially hates group projects with Blackbell.
That military manufacturer's daughter has been giving him (the group leader, of course) grief this entire discussion period. She's a non-stop complaining machine! From the topic to the roles to the sources, she's been scrutinizing his every move! She even dissed the way he parted his hair today! What the hell is her problem?!
It's only right that she comes from a lone line of weapons developers... she must be their masterpiece: a sonic WMD that annoys people to death! Damn, he should write that down. Emile and Ewan would definitely like that one. Unfortunately, his two best friends are scattered around the room-- assigned in different groups from him. And now he has to be groupmates with the most infuriating person on the planet!
No matter, he's a Desmond-- this disaster is nothing but a slight inconvenience to him.
...Granted, Becky Blackbell isn't the only infuriating female in Cecile Hall... As the teacher bids the class goodbye, Damian's eyes find their way back to her -- Anya Forger.
Anya isn't as catty as her best friend, but that doesn't make her any less irritating to be around. She's flighty and stupid, and her face... makes weird stuff happen in his chest! Must be commoner cooties or something... he decides.
He watches the pinkette shove her textbooks haphazardly in her bag before standing up to pat down her skirt and straighten her hair. For no reason in particular, the view mesmerizes Damian.
With her backpack on, she looks towards his direction with an expectant expression on her chubby face. "Come on! I'm waiting for you!" She chirps, voice laced with sweetness.
Damian stands up, 'Huh? I shouldn't keep Anya waiting. I-- Wait?! Where are we even going?!" He looks down at himself, mortified to see that, without his consent, his hands have been frantically shoving his reading materials in his bag.
"One moment, Anya!" His groupmate calls.
Right. Of course. Anya was talking to Becky. Of course, of course. There's no way Anya would ever beckon him so sweetly... it's just... it's unthinkable!
“So what are you and that rabid little friend of yours up to?”
Becky clocks him with an affronted glare, “Why are you asking?”
Yeah, why is he asking? Dammit.
“How rude… t-to answer a question with a question.”
That raven-haired b-word has the gall to roll her eyes, “If you must know, I’m sleeping over at her place for the weekend! Tch! Don’t look at me like that! Yes, her place is only as big as one of my estate’s ballrooms, but that doesn't give you any right to diss it!"
“I literally didn’t say a damn thing.” He balks. “And also, it sounds like you’re the one who’s dissing it.”
“Anya’s so brave! Living in that claustrophobic little house of hers… having to commute every single day through the…” Becky shudders “... public transportation system …”
Damian shudders as well.
"She and her family… they’re my heroes!” Becky fishes out a photograph from her wallet, presenting it to his face. “Behold!”
‘ How quaint.’ is his first thought; ‘ They look happy .’ is his next.
“Get that out of my face, Blackbell. I don’t care about Forger, much less her commoner family and commoner dog.” He lied. He was already trying to figure out what breed that behemoth of pet could be. It was such a small picture.
“How dare you!” Becky’s shrill voice pierced his ears, “Don’t you dare talk about Mister Loid like that! And Anya too!”
“Why did Anya come second?”
“The Forger family may be simple townsfolk, but they’re so cool!” Becky’s tirade was not to be interrupted, “You should be so lucky as to behold them! Anya’s a cutie, and her mom is a lovely lady, and my Loid-- oh my goodness! Doctor Forger is so dreamy!”
Damian blinks once. Twice. “Excuse me?! Ew! Did I hear you right?”
“What’s up Boss-Man?” Ewan asked as he and Emile approached the bickering pair.
“Get a load of this-- Blackbell’s totally crushing on Forger’s dad!”
“Ewww!” The blonds reacted in unison.
“It’s not ‘ew’! You’re ‘ew’!”
“You’re a freak! You’re chasing after someone’s dad ?!”
“Shut up, Emile!” She barks, “It’s not weird! A lot of girls like older men! And the fact that you’re being childish about it only proves what immature little boys you are! And real ladies care not for boys !” With finality, she turns away with a sharp hmph! before making her way towards her little friend.
“Sheesh…”
“You can say that again.”
“Sorry we couldn’t get to you in time to ward her off, Lord Damian.” Damian waves Ewan’s apology off with a motion of his hand.
“I wasn’t bothered. After all, a lion cares not for the opinions of sheep.”
His friends marvel at his eloquence-- not knowing that Damian was reciting that line from a comic book he was reading the night before.
“What a psycho sheep, by the way.” Damian tacks on, still aghast at the newfound information he’s had the displeasure of acquiring-- “Crushing on your friend’s parent? How depraved!”
To Damian’s surprise, only Ewan nods his head in agreement.
“Emile…?”
The blond grows a bit pink in the face. “I mean… I get the appeal, I-I guess…”
“You guess?!” Ewan parrots.
“I mean, your mom is…”
“OH MY GOD! SHUT UP!” Ewan shrieks, punching his friend in the shoulder. “I REGRET EVER INTRODUCING YOU TO HER! I KNEW IT! YOU WERE LOOKING AT HER WEIRD!”
“I didn’t mean it like that!! She’s just a really nice lady and--!”
“Ew! Ew! Ew! You’re never invited to my house ever! ” Ewan grabs Damian’s school bag for him, and charges ahead with his eyes firmly shut.
“Don’t be like that, man!”
“Ew! Ew! Ew!”
Damian scrambles to keep pace with his bickering friends. The lunacy of the situation gives rise to a chuckle in him-- “Wait?! So it’s true? Ew, dude!”
“Boss-Man! It’s not like that!” Emile is practically glowing like a stop sign at this point; he’s so embarrassed that he’s got tears in his eyes.
Ewen’s pace has begun to slow, but he’s still squirming around as if the man is fighting demons, “You are never invited to my house!”
“But--!”
“Never! Never ever!”
Damian can’t help but snicker. His friends were so goofy. Ewan is often straight-laced, but seeing him so frazzled about banishing his peer from his household is…
Well, it’s funny, for one.
And it’s a little familiar too.
Like he often does, Damian can’t help but think about Anya. The scene playing out before him kind of reminds him of his frequent exchanges with her. He hopes to God that, at the very least, he looks much more composed when he denies her… Ewan right now looks like he’s fighting demons.
Going over to someone’s house just to hit on their parent?
What a crazy notion.
. . .
No.
It couldn’t be.
That isn’t the reason why she always asks.
Right?
Not that his father isn’t someone worth admiring! Chairman Donovan Desmond is a very respectable and accomplished figure in--
Wait! That doesn’t matter! That kind of stuff couldn’t possibly pique Anya Forger’s fancy!
Not that he really knows what kind of guy Anya likes, but it’s definitely not…
I mean, what does he really know about Anya anyway?
All he knows for sure is that Becky definitely had hearts in her eyes when she was talking about Doctor Forger, and--
OH MY GOD.
No. Absolutely not.
This shouldn’t even be a problem.
Even if it were…
…it wouldn’t be a problem because it’s not like Anya Forger’s hypothetical affections would lead to anything.
Plus, it’s not like he was ever going to relent and allow her to enter his abode (he’s hardly ever there to begin with). Thereby, there’s no chance the two of them will even ever meet! Ha!
…Not that there’s a reason he should be scared of the two meeting, it’s…
Frankly, it’s stupid that he even considered the thought! There’s no way she’s… like that.
Anya Forger is so disrespectful to him that there’s no chance she cares for any and all Desmond men.
…Now why does that make him want to throw up?
…Because Anya’s gross!
Yeah! That’s right! He feels ill because Anya is gross!
…Haha, just kidding.
That was just a joke. He was joking just now.
To himself?
Yeah. He’s hilarious like that. In fact, anyone with working eyes would fall for his Desmond charms.
Er-- his charms. Not necessarily… Desmond charms… although he’s sure that--
Whatever.
…
She keeps asking to go to his house because she’s probably just curious how the great Desmond kin live-- just like anyone else would be.
In a totally platonic way.
…
He’s gonna go vomit now.