Snippet #2270404

Alex was wondering who his hall mate would be, but it wasn't the time to worry about that. "Why not have a small board and marker..? It would waste less paper, right?" She was still smiling when she said this, so he guessed she blew off what happened earlier. (It probably would, but I am stubborn and I want to use notebook paper instead.) He wrote this down smiling, since he couldn't really laugh. "As a fellow artist, I'd know." She pulled a notebook of her own out, so Alex guessed that this was some of her drawings. He flipped through it, seeing some drawings that were quite advanced and some drawings that seemed a bit messy. He thought that perhaps the hand she lost was the one that she drew with originally. The danger of not being able to draw was one of the reasons that Alex tried to use both hands, instead of being limited to one hand. If he lost his hands, then it would be pretty hard for him to communicate and he really wouldn't want to do anything.

He was confused as to what the growling was, but he then noticed that it was the girl's stomach. He saw her reaching into her bag and pulling out a lunch. "My grandma prepared a big lunch for me, but I can't really eat everything she gives me. I can share.. if you want some." She was unwrapping the lunchbox and he saw what appeared to be a delicious lunch under the lid. He wondered if her grandma could cook as well as he could, but he guessed she probably cooked better due to age. (I would like some, but wouldn't that be quite rude of me?) He hated being rude, but he also hated being hungry. His rich upbringing made him want to be as formal as he could when in formal parties set up by his parents, since he would be representing his family's etiquette and his family loved being seen as formal and good samaritans. He decided to try and act as comfortable around the girl as he could, since he would be losing any chances of making friends if he kept up trying to use formalities.

"Let's go find somewhere to eat this." She said, once again with a smile. He could've just left the girl on the floor and walked past her, but he didn't and he did not regret the decision to help her. (I'll follow behind you, so lead the way.) He didn't really know were to go, so he would let the girl take lead. They stopped in front of an empty classroom, then he walked in and the girl rolled forward. He sat in a desk adjacent to the one the girl was sitting in.

"Do you use chopsticks?" This was quite an easy question for him to answer, since his father was American and his mother was from Japan. He knew how to sign Asian sign language and American sign language, and he knew the many mannerisms of the Japanese. (I can use either a fork and spoon or chopsticks, since I was occasionally invited to foreign formal gatherings by other rich families .) He didn't know that being rich was a big deal, since he didn't think the girl would care about his upbringing. He wasn't snobby about the fact that he was rich, so he wasn't thought of as rich or snobby. However, anyone that went to his family's mansion would know he was rich, but he may or may not show his friends his family's mansion. Him going to back to the place where the people he cared about murdered, would bring out some suppressed emotions and he didn't want to go home until he knew he could face going home without crying. A funeral was never held for the maid he loved, but he was determined to make a funeral happen. He didn't care if his parents didn't approve of it, since he was a big source of monetary income for his family and they couldn't afford to lose him. The sunlight was shining through the window and he was enjoying having the light shine on his face, since it was warm and comforting.