Remington Burnham

Oct. 21, 2019, 7:43 p.m.

Spells are a lot of work

See? She knew it. DJ did the same thing when it came to fries. They were stealable snacks that everyone wanted to eat upon sight. It wasn’t just a girl thing.

“I really like cajun fries. Like, the ones with that special seasoning.” Pat of her wondered if the type of seasoning actually came from a Cajun background or if it was just a misnomer. She could always try to find that out later. “Sometimes my mom and I will get them at this fast food place near our house if we really want them.” Remington paused. “I wouldn’t turn down a good curly fry, either.”

Talking about food for too long made her uncomfortable. The unearned guilt that came with being a girl who had any kind of curves - or being female in general - who discussed food other than salad started to creep back. The anxiety of knowing how dumb that was and being unable to ignore it, and then the frustration she felt for allowing herself to feel stupid, threatened to take over the conversation if she let it. She placed the avocado toast back on her plate, appetite forgotten.

“So his movies are more on sets and not on location?” Remington asked, glad for a continued distraction. If this term was going to be a good one, she’d have to get over these feelings. Completely ignoring them was the same as that, right? Totally. “I guess sets would be boring for an actor. I think it’d be cool to recreate or gather props, though. Doing the research and creating time and setting appropriate objects sounds really fun to me.” Whenever she watched shows like Saturday Night Live at home with her dad, she found herself appreciating the props designers over the actors. They had to make all these new, specific things every week. That was hard!

Remington followed DJ’s eyes towards the Cetus fire. Drew and Dakota sat together and - wow, Dakota looked really good. Different, but like she felt a little more sure of herself. Remington hoped that was true. Repairing their friendship for good was a primary goal for her sixth year. She just hadn’t figured out a plan, yet. When she glanced at Drew, she felt the faintest flutter in her chest. Not seeing Drew over the summer had been weird. She missed him.

”Apparently when he was here at RMI there was a Prom or something like that.”

She turned her brown eyes back to DJ, eyebrows raised. “They had a prom here? Wow. Can you imagine if they tried that now? There would probably be less punching,” she teased with a light smile; she really wanted DJ to know things were okay now, “but I bet it would come with its own drama.” Unlike the older students of years past, this batch of upper years weren’t really coupled up. There were some exceptions, of course, but it seemed as though this group of students hadn’t figured out dating. “I don’t even know who I’d want to go with.”

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