mightbeconcussed: (Pouty)
For [livejournal.com profile] quotethis_muses

They say such nice things about people at their funerals that it makes me sad to realize that I'm going to miss mine by just a few days. >> Garrison Keillor

Lucy was in a funk. There was no other explanation for it. The cute boy at the coffee bar hadn’t flirted with her that morning. He’d been too busy actually working and then she’d actually had to show up for class, she’d skinned her knee and no one had helped her up. Life in Lucy Land was looking dismal which was why she was currently flung across the couch, her head in her best friend, Jill’s lap, a pout firmly fixed on her face.

“Hold me a wake, Jilly,” she suggested in a perfectly reasonable (read whiny) tone of voice.

Jill gave her a look that was clearly ‘are you insane?’ even though she was accustomed to Lucy’s antics by now.

“I’m serious,” Lucy continued in her perfectly reasonable (whiny) voice. The pout on her face wasn’t getting more pronounced. No. Not at all.

“Luce, I’m not having a wake for you,” Jill sighed and turned back to her notes. She had an English exam tomorrow that she sort of wanted to pass. Unlike Lucy, her goal in life was no professional student.

“Why not?” That perfectly reasonable tone was becoming more calm and even (read whiny) by the minute.

Jill arched an eyebrow at her, sparing her a cursory glance before turning back to her notes. “You’re not dead.”

“Trivial,” Lucy insisted. She turned half on her side; hands curling up underneath her chin to create a picture that she knew was perfectly adorable and pretty much irresistible unless you had a heart of stone (or were human and knew Lucy was trying to work you). “I want people to say nice things about me.”

Jill sighed and put her notes to the side for the moment. Obviously Lucy was going to require all her attention. It was a bit like having a two year old at times. Or a puppy with a bladder control issue and ADD. Not that Lucy was apt to pee herself at any minute…oh never mind.

“Lucy, people say nice things about you all the time.”
“Not today they didn’t.” Again perfectly reasonable…oh forget it. She was whiny and pouty and possibly annoying but it was Lucy. What were you going to do? “The boy in the coffee shop hardly looked at me and I was wearing the new Betsey Johnson dress and that pretty blush pink Hard Candy lip gloss. And in class the teacher acted like he’d never seen me before.”

“When was the last time you went to his class?” Jill asked. She had to play the reasonable mother because no one else in this house was going to.

“The first day of school. Are you trying to say I’m forgettable? See! Another reason to have a wake! People aren’t likely to forget me then. We can make sure everyone where fabulous black gowns and we’ll drink martinis and make everyone make a speech about me. Then after all the speeches are finished, I can come out of the bedroom wearing that really fantastic red Nicole Miller I have and say ‘Psyche!’. It will be fun.”

There was some waffling on Jill’s part, much brow furrowing and eyebrow raising. In the end, Jill did what she always did.

“I’ll send the invitations out tomorrow.”

That was the appropriate answer because Lucy was leaping out of her lap with a squeal and a twirl around the living room. There was some hopping and more dolphin-esque noises before Lucy ran off to organize Jill’s closet. Jill picked up her notebook, happy to be able to get back to her studying. Of course then she’d have a wake to plan.

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