Andrew Tennant

Nov. 29, 2020, 11:02 a.m.

Who needs anemones?

It was just slightly possible, between five classes and working part-time at Deep River Records and being the editor of Rocky Voices and being on the Cetus Quidditch team and so on, that Drew had overextended himself. On top of that, sixth year was just way harder than fifth year. If he had the time Drew would’ve taken a nap most days, but most of his quote-unquote “free time” was already accounted for. Drew liked all of the things in his schedule, so even if he could he wouldn’t drop anything. If he had to choose it’d probably be Quidditch, just because he wasn’t that passionate about it. After RMI he probably wouldn’t play much… but that made it seem even more important to stay on the team for now, since his opportunities to play were limited. Besides, Drew had done Quidditch every year since he was a firstie, and he liked it, and he didn’t want to put Will in a weird “oh Merlin now we need a new Beater” position, or abandon Sadie, who was a pretty good Beating partner. So he would just keep on muddling through with his full schedule.

On this rare free morning, Drew slept in until both of his roommates had left the dorm. Normally he would get breakfast, but today his stomach noped right the heck away from that idea, so he decided to head to the rec center instead. He could swim or float a bit, and it would feel more productive than pulling the covers back over his head, and by the time he was done in the rec center he’d probably be hungry enough for brunch. Or lunch—it would definitely be lunchtime by then.

Drew pulled on a pair of navy blue swim trunks and made his way to the empty (except for the portrait of Alec Edwards, who took one look at Drew and informed him he ought to stop slouching and look sharper if he wanted anyone to take him seriously) rec center. He got into the pool and tried to decide what to do next. Normally he swam laps for a little while, but today he was super not feeling it. Maybe he could just lay on his back and close his eyes…

Drew was still pondering that when he was torpedoed by someone rocketing down the slide and knocking him over. He resurfaced a moment later, coughing water out of his nose and mouth, and wiped his eyes to see who had of course it was Kit.

It wasn’t that Drew had been avoiding his cousin, but he was not especially looking to spend time with Kit. She was still badgering him about Darlene even though it had been over six months since Drew broke up with her. Drew knew that Darlene and Kit were close friends (now that Kit had decided she didn’t absolutely loathe her roommate), but if nothing else he would have expected Kit’s attention span to give up on the project by now. It wasn’t like she didn’t know he was dating Remy… and besides, Kit and Remington were friends too! Drew got why Kit wasn’t happy with him in this situation, but she could at least be happy for Remy.

But it was hard to be mad at Kit for klutziness because, well, obviously. “You’re good,” Drew said, still coughing. Pool water had definitely gone down the wrong way and his sinuses were all stinging chlorine-y now. “I’ll live. You definitely woke me up, anyway.”

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Just a little clownfish, swimming swimming - Katherine Kendrick || November 27
Who needs anemones? - Andrew Tennant || November 29
When you've got fronds! - Kit || November 29
A frond in need is a frond indeed - Drew || December 19