— Success chance: 70%
— General results: Taylor will locate the materials she needs to make more proper tutoring lessons. Provides a passive but noticeable benefit to Taylor’s tutoring sessions, providing greater benefits for anyone who has agreed to study with her.
— On a success: Taylor will find a book on teaching styles at a reduced price, encouraging her to pick it up. She will not learn how to be a teacher from it, but will be able to pick up several lessons on structuring tutoring sessions and encouraging students through it. Increases the benefits for all participants in her tutoring sessions. May provide future benefits with Dinah, Vista, Miss Militia and Bakuda once they have been recruited.
— On a failure: No additional penalties.
[] Amy knows a place in Boston that makes particularly good sandwiches and wraps for lunch—apparently, she has been here several times after Protectorate troops have been left in critical condition after battles. It’s a much more pleasant atmosphere, and much more inviting food, than the McDonalds Carol was going to take you to otherwise.
— Success chance: Cannot be failed.
— General results: A pleasing atmosphere during lunch will encourage Amy to unwind some, encouraging greater intimacy between her and Taylor. A relatively light lunch and happier feelings in general will encourage Amy to let go of some of the hurt she feels over Taylor hiding her other relationships from her.
[] Amy locates a small hobbyist bookstore that contains a small section dedicated to the feudal times, a topic she is currently studying at school and finds mildly interesting. While browsing the store, Taylor and Carol are left to hold awkward conversation between the two of them as best they can.
— Success chance: 60%
— General results: Taylor and Carol will hold awkward small talk, until Carol grows annoyed with herself for not being able to talk to Amy’s girlfriend, and attempts to get to know Taylor a little. Encourages Taylor’s crush on Carol to grow. Will open an opportunity for Carol to be recruited in the near future.
— On a success: Carol will subtly dig at Taylor’s intentions towards Amy, hoping to find Taylor is trustworthy. This will encourage Carol to offer Taylor an after-school job at her law firm, where she will be entrusted with various clerical duties in support of Carol, if recruitment of Carol proceeds as above.
— On a failure: Carol will be satisfied that Taylor is genuinely interested in Amy, but otherwise does not find her notably trustworthy.
2.18
> Success chance: 70% 90%
> Necessary roll: 10. Rolled: 23. Success.
> Success chance: 60% 90%
> Necessary roll: 10. Rolled: 28. Success.
Spoiler: Winning Votes
[] You’re already helping Madison to study, and you’ve now agreed to help Sophia to study for History as well. You’re doing the best you can with the books you have available, but maybe you could do better if you could find some other materials. Books on school subjects wouldn’t hurt, but there are other things you need—paper, pens, maybe even folders to store notes in. Stuff you can use to help plan your tutoring better.
[] Amy knows a place in Boston that makes particularly good sandwiches and wraps for lunch—apparently, she has been here several times after Protectorate troops have been left in critical condition after battles. It’s a much more pleasant atmosphere, and much more inviting food, than the McDonalds Carol was going to take you to otherwise.
[] Amy locates a small hobbyist bookstore that contains a small section dedicated to the feudal times, a topic she is currently studying at school and finds mildly interesting. While browsing the store, Taylor and Carol are left to hold awkward conversation between the two of them as best they can.
It might not have been the best idea to wait so long to go to sleep last night.
You’re determined to get a proper seven hours of sleep. Ordinarily, it doesn’t make much of a difference if you wake up an hour or so after your usual waking times, as that just means you’re up at seven instead of six or thereabouts, but most days you don’t have to be prepared to leave by seven thirty.
And, yes, okay, Dad had said that… Carol? had told him that she would be here at eight to pick you up, but some parents like to be early to this kind of thing, and you really don’t want to make a bad impression on Amy’s mother during the first date the two of you are having around her. That just seems like a bad idea.
That just doesn’t leave you very long. You hadn’t managed to fall asleep until half past eleven, as excited over your trip as you felt last night, so you don’t end up staggering your way out of bed and into the kitchen until nearly quarter to seven. And your hair is just so long that it won’t possibly be dry by half past. Ugh. Plus, you definitely don’t have enough time to go for your run before you shower.
Dad is still out in the kitchen when you walk out there. He raises an eyebrow at you as you make your way to the fridge, greeting you with a quiet, “Hello, Taylor.” You respond with a tired grunt and a nod as you dig around for anything for breakfast. There really isn’t much; it seems that Dad focused on buying dinner-foods this week. There’s a surprising amount of fresh vegetables and even two packets of raw chicken breasts in there, but somehow, the thought of slicing up raw capsicum or zucchini for breakfast doesn’t much appeal to you.
You dig around a little more, but there’s not really much of a choice. You’re not in the mood for jam this morning—it always makes you feel a little too giddy after a long car trip—so your only real choice is to take some of the slices of cheese wrapped in plastic. (Well, okay, technically you could have some thin porridge if you wanted to really stretch the milk out, but who are you, Oliver Twist?)
Once you’ve taken the bread out of the bread bin and set it within the toaster, Dad lets out a loud cough. You turn towards him, startled, but before you can ask him if he needs any cough medicines, he points towards a mug on the table. “I made you a cup earlier,” he says, blinking rapidly as if in shock at his own cough. “It’s still warm, if you want it.”
Huh. Usually, he doesn’t make coffee for you until you actually wander out into the kitchen. Then again, you usually aren’t heading on a trip to another city after breakfast either. “Thanks,” you reply out loud, giving him a small smile. He returns it along with a small nod, then returns to the newspaper in front of him. You can barely see the title from here—“DOWNTOWN BRAWL LEAVES DOZENS INJURED”. You tilt your head curiously, but give up on the idea of reading it after a moment. Dad doesn’t like reading those kinds of news stories out to you. You’ll just have to read it later. When you get home.
Behind you, the toaster makes a small thunk, alerting you that your bread has finished toasting. You start slightly, then hurry back to it. There’s nothing worse than cold toast, in your opinion. Except lukewarm coffee. Cold toast and lukewarm coffee. Yuck. You make a face as you quickly butter the bread and plate it up.
Dad gives you a friendly smile as you walk over and seat yourself at the table, though he doesn’t say anything for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is mild and soothing, the way an adult can only ever manage when they are talking to someone much younger than them. “Are you excited for your trip?”
You raise your eyebrows at him incredulously. “Of course,” you say, almost drawling your response. “I’m going to Boston.” With Amy! And her mother! What’s not to love?
He chuckles softly. “Yeah, I suppose that is pretty exciting.” He gestures at your coffee as he talks, as though urging you to drink it. “Your friend’s mother mentioned that she was taking you around to some bookstores in Boston. Do you have any plans for what you’re going to buy?”
“Kind of?” you hedge. Honestly, you haven’t put all that much thought into it, and you’re not sure how much you want to talk about the few vague plans you do have with him. And now that you’ve actually acknowledged that thought to yourself, you feel kind of bad. Not bad enough to talk about all your plans, though. “I was thinking about buying some cookbooks, maybe. And I might check to see if there’s been any new releases from authors I like recently.” You drum your fingers along the side of your plate, debating whether you want to say anything about some of your other plans. Probably not.
He still gives you an approving nod. “Good,” he says warmly. “I’ve transferred what I could over to your bank account, okay? Just make sure to check your bank account before you buy anything so you don’t overdraw.”
Well, that’s a little surprising. You know that he knows your bank account details, of course—he’d been with you and Mom when you’d gone in to get it created, and he’s the one that files your bank statements, though he respects your privacy enough not to look at what you spend your money on—but you’d just assumed he’d give you any money in cash. It is easier this way, though, you have to acknowledge.
Still, you have to fight back a grimace. He could have at least asked you before putting money into your bank account.
The absurdity of the thought hits you a moment later, and you mentally scoff at yourself. God, what a stupid thing to think.
You make a small sound of acknowledgement, then begin munching on your toast before it goes cold. The cheese is already rapidly cooling the food, so you can’t let it sit on your plate for too long.
Dad doesn’t stay for much longer, though he does make a point of walking around the table to where you’re sitting and pulling you into an awkward one-armed hug before he leaves. “Have fun in Boston, Taylor,” he murmurs above you, giving you a slightly anxious grin. “I’ll be working in the office all day, so if you need anything, just give me a call. Even if you need me to come and pick you up.”
It’s just Amy and Amy’s mother. You’re not sure what he’s imagining could possibly happen when you’re with the two of them, though you do appreciate the thought. You offer him a smile as you reply, “Okay. Thanks, Dad.” It’s a bit awkward to twist yourself so you can hug him as he moves to leave, but you manage to do it without causing yourself too many aches.
He doesn’t quite leave immediately, though. His keys are in the living room, and he has to backtrack once into the kitchen with a sheepish smile to pull an apple out of the fridge. A midday snack? Hm.
And then, you’re alone. And it’s only seven. Ugh.
The last small bites of your breakfast don’t much appeal to you now. You briefly consider putting them away for later, but it’s toast, it doesn’t really last well. You just throw it out, though you feel a little guilty over wasting food like that, before heading upstairs to shower and change.
The question of what to wear is a complicated one. You don’t want to overdress, and not just because Amy and her mother might not dress up themselves, but neither do you want to look like a mess in front of them. Not that you really have fancy clothes, but you still have a lot of nice clothes now, thanks to Victoria.
You deliberate for a short while over exactly what you should wear, then. You’re not a jeans-and-t-shirt kind of girl, and those kinds of clothes don’t flatter you at all, but that’s really the only kind of casual clothes you know. You prefer skirts anyway, though usually on girls other than yourself.
Eventually, you narrow your choice down to a nice pair of relatively subtle flared pants, and either a blue or a dark red button-up shirt. You can’t decide between them, so you leave them spread out along your bed in case you manage to make up your mind while in the warm shower. The deliciously warm shower.
(You don’t end up being able to decide between them in the shower, so you have to resort to the simplest method of just flipping a coin. It lands on heads; red it is.)
And only once you’ve showered and dressed do you wander out to the kitchen again, making yourself a cooler cup of coffee than you normally drink. You don’t want to leave it half-drunk, but if you make it too hot, you might not be able to drink it before you have to go. It is… twenty to eight now, after all. So when the doorbell rings nearly ten minutes early, at seven fifty-two, nobody could begrudge you a bit of childish glee. You knew it was a good idea to be prepared to leave early!
Amy’s mother—Carol, you think Dad had called her—is waiting for you in front of the door, an expectant look on her face. You’re not trying to use your power on her, but there’s enough anxiousness and… anticipation? in her that you can feel it anyway, wrapped taut like wire around her. She moves smoothly through it, ignoring it like it isn’t there as she greets you with a strained smile and a small nod. “Good morning,” she says in greeting.
You look at her stupidly for a moment, only barely fighting back a blush as you try to formulate a response. Every time you see her, you’re taken aback by just how hot Amy’s mother is. “Um… hi.” You can’t fight back the blush at your own laconic response, though. Thankfully, the embarrassment jump-starts your brain a touch. “D-did you want to come in, or-“ You cut yourself off, looking over at the car now idling in front of your house. Amy is sitting inside, though she isn’t looking over at you right then. “Or, um. I only need to get my jacket and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Okay.” Carol shifts herself slightly in place, rocking back slightly on her heels and settling back in a more comfortable position. “I’ll wait here.”
You nod, a little intimidated by the way she’s just standing there, then turn and hurry back inside. You’d left your jacket lying across your bed, so it only takes you a moment to dash back to your bedroom and pick it up, but you spend a moment patting it down to make sure you still have the rest of your things in there too. Your house key and your purse are both in there. One of these days, you should invest in a handbag. On the other hand, you don’t really carry that much around with you most of the time.
