#does he like pen or pencil when he's not writing reports. does he like mechanical pencils or does he stick to the classic wood ones.

[maschotch]

[bugaboowritings]

Map of the City - Queen Bee in New York

Chloe is trying (but in America)

Inspired by @gale-of-the-nomads​ au , Queen Bee’s City!

here you go, love - @zazzlejazzle

Bascially Chloé does move to New York with her mom and trys to contiune being Queen Bee! Savior of New York. . . .well. . .trying to be at least. . . 

I have like 6 WIP’s and the number grows whenever I try to write a new fic. I surprised myself by being able to pump this out under two days.  It’s a small drabble, but it was still fun writing out how Chloe would grow and take this role seriously.

Chloé pulled out another colored pen from her case. Testing the ink before she committed to it. Scribbling on the edge of her notebook, checking if it still worked before drawing on her canvas. Looping the pen around till a thick trail of ink left the tip. With her metal ruler in her other hand, Chloé studied the map before tapping her finger on an empty spot. Aligning her ruler on two dots to form a nice straight path. Making them touch. Running her pen down quickly from one edge to the other. Creating a nice thick line in purple glitter gel.

“Sweetbrier Shop to Rivington Street,”

Victims of hit and runs and cheap robberies in the near-by liquor store. She almost got stabbed there once, but she left the fight as if it was just a light scratch. Nothing too major that this hero and a first-aid kit couldn’t handle.

Scratching the color on her key, writing a set of numbers behind it, then capping the gel pen when she was done. Her key grew to be a spectrum of colors with each crime listed. Each color marked off different dangers in the streets.

Tapping her chin with her ruler as she thought over the next points.

“Columbus Circle, Broadway, and Saint Nicholas Avenue,”

All hot spots for black market exchanges. Whether done by slipping it under one’s seat at showtime or in teens' backpacks when they walked home. Her suspicion was based on some loose tells by 'crackheads' and kids that believed something was off. Yet, what really tipped her off were the random addresses, pictures, and tickets she found after confronting that mob-boss. Well, more like lurking around their office till they came back. Long story made short, it was the most anxiety-filled 5 minutes of her life. A moment that some annoying kid from class still bugs her about. 

Trying her best to logically connect them to the rumored case of human trafficking, but no vice.

Pulling out a bright lime sticky note from her desk. Noting the weak evidence behind this conclusion. Smoothing the sticky note on the wall to make sure the glue struck well on her poster.  Applauding her organization before moving on to the other locations she had to check off.

Even since she came to New York with her mother, Chloé felt an urge to ‘promote’ herself. To prove everyone in Paris wrong. To make them see how much they needed her. To prove that she’s important to their stability. And when they cried for her to return, she would laugh and rub elbows with the western high class. Live in the beacon of the leading fashion trends, technological advancements, and the center of business. 

Yet, when she stepped off that private jet- her fantasies were crushed. 

Briskly enrolled in school again after the first weeks of setting in America. Given a uniform that clashed with her shoes. Forced into classes that she couldn’t choose (Who would think that every class would be at max capacity during the middle of the school year?) all with students that made her gag when around with. Total snots or geeks, if you ask her.

 All and more as her private school crest was stamped on everything and anything. There were times where Chloé had to fight the urge to rip the ‘thing’ off.

So far, New York City wasn’t what she thought was gonna be. 

All expect one class. 

 Political Tensions.  

Honestly, she thought it would be a total snooze-fest, a slow recap on every famous war and battle. Yet, she was corrected the moment she stepped into the room. The professor managed to even get her interested in the subject.

Something that Ms. Bustier would applaud at. 

From dissecting news reports or tall-tales, the professor made everything seem reasonable when the world proved to be not. Gossip or he-said-she-said silenced itself whenever they were around. The professor was known for dumping essays for their lack of sources. Wishing to read-only facts,  why’s or analysis. Kicking out if's and but’s. Using the first five minutes to prep the class or go on tangents as they said the same thing but in riddles. Like the total hippie they were. Something that Chloé didn't really get.

Maybe it’s a cultural thing.

These tangents and riddles would be based on how society will see you one way and only one way. No matter what you do, you will always be the stereotype. This professor wanted the class to break that bubble.  Chloé,  a foreign rich girl, a nobody on the streets of New York, was expected to speak her mind when asked to and dissect each line as if it was the last word the author ever wrote.  

To show that she isn’t a dumb blond or some foreign eye-candy.  

Chloé wouldn’t budge with this, but with a classroom filled with people- she strongly dislikes as much as she liked the model of their watches- she wanted to be what they envied. Batting her curled eyelashes in satisfaction when the professor nodded to her answer. 

Chloé raised her hand more when the tip of her tongue carried the answer, not caring if it was right or wrong because she knew it wasn’t wrong or it was just something important that had to be said. An idea worth breathing into the air. No matter what her mother said when she noticed all the books Chloé brought home or whatever side comments she heard as she left tutoring, she tried to prove them wrong. 

Because they were and they are.

Studying the building blocks of war and politics. The field her father jumped in and out of.

From the Philippines ‘ deadly drug war that claims more than listed, rumored Russian hacking, Brazil’s burning, the US inconsistent investigation, and even her own country’s news- Chloé seems to understand more and more about the world she once thought was the size of a nutshell.

When really Chloé broke out of the eggshell she was sheltered in.

Her mother’s business trips to other companies and international nations didn’t do them justice. Showing the rich and their desk rather than the real people that were hidden in streets or offices. 

“Roosevelt Avenue and Times Square, “

Talk was going around about risky projects taking place. Pinning two push-tacks instead of drawing a line between them. "More investigating need", she hummed. Nibbling the edge of her lips, tasting her gloss.

Stepping back from the wall, the blonde ate up her lips in anticipation. In front of her, the picture grew clear and neat. Even if to anyone else it resembled confusion. As if it was a nest of colored branches and loops. After the sixth step back, her back hit the table. Lifting it up before Chloé stepped away. Her pencil pouch spilling her mechanical pencils and pens. Letting them roll away before hitting her laptop. One that had ten different tabs checking the news and double-checking her numbers.

However, Chloé didn't turn to the mess behind her.

She was too busy awing her work.

The complete map of New York City- annotated with each important detail she discovered. Covered in lines and pins to indicate vices or crime scenes. Some colored lines extended out of the map. As if trying to touch the sticky notes or typed up reports on what she squished out of locals or from the internet. Chloe wasn’t a journalist, but she understood the appeal of piecing everything together. What was once an enigma was turning into a complete picture. No wonder that four-eyed nerd went crazy whenever she got a new scoop.

A smirk danced on her face before quickly switching it out for a frown. Ignoring the sour memories in her head, reminding herself of her plan. There was a new objective at hand.

New York was getting a new hero.

Not a movie coming in theaters soon or another comic book hitting the shelves (though she wouldn’t mind if she was the muse for one).

New York City was getting a new super-hero.

A savior, if you will.

One that would do the people justice. By the people. For the people.

Unlike a certain pig-tailed scrub back at home.

[thecozywhaleshark]

Pocket Monsta X - Back to School

A/n: A beautiful anon bean requested Pocket BTS back to school/or moms going back to school ~ so I combined them a bit and decided to do Monsta X too 😘 Enjoy, and have a good school year everyone! 

Shownu:

the most well organized little bean

almost mathematical about it 

counts all his pencils even if they came in a box labeled 12 or 24

gets so excited about the folders with the race cars on it 

wants all his folders to be in black and red design  

will understand if he can’t have that - but will be disappointed

likes the pencil bags with all the zippers and the googly eyes

will have a t-rex lunch box

helps you go grocery shopping for all the lunch foods and after school snacks 

a good student, plays well with others 

if you’re the one going back to school you better believe he’s going to be your #1 supporter hands down 

will give you a little valentines day note every day, all year round 

Wonho:

is so tearful on the first day of school

does not want to leave you

might get so nervous he throws up before you even leave the house

will be one of those students that spend the first half of every day for the first week really quiet and with red-rimmed eyes, tears silently tracking down their face and sniffing 

once he makes friends though he will be okay

will try to hold the teacher’s hand 

pack him special home-made snacks for lunch and give him a little hand-written note every day and he will feel better 

might accidentally call the teacher ‘mom’

which only results in a fresh round of tears 

has a comfort teddy bear/ bunny from home in his backpack

the most excited pocket to see mom after a long day

if you’re the one going to school he’s going to whine a lot a first 

but be so proud of you for going back to school 

will try to be helpful, sharpens your pencils for you if he thinks they’re too dull 

Kihyun:

wants the sparkily folders

if he isn’t getting glitter on his hands when he pulls out his homework he’s not happy 

wants the pencils labeled with the days of the week

also wants the clear/glittery pencil grips

so happy about pencil erasers 

will spend hours when he gets home capping them onto his pencils and making the color combinations 

has one of those large, plastic pencil cases 

because he loves the clicking sounds it makes

dances when you write “Kihyun” on the top of it because it’s his

will happily write his own name on every single one of his pencils, crayons, markers, folders...

his name is the only thing he knows how to spell correctly and he loves it okay

but will be so excited to learn how to write and spell new words

will become the spelling bee champion at the end of the school year

blushes if he gets “have a good day! :)” notes written on his sandwich bags

has a special back to school bowtie - it has the alphabet and little pencils on it 

loves The Magic School Bus more than anything

if it’s you going back to school he’s going to be the most organized little pocket 

more organized than he is for himself 

makes sure you do your homework and will nag you about it

Minhyuk:

Lisa Frank EVERYTHING pls

also anything that lights up (like those pens) or has a toy on top he wants wants wants

also wants a slap ruler (like one of the ones that’s like a slap bracelet) 

wants all the gel pens

throws things in the cart when you’re not looking 

just wants everything that has color and/or is shiny... which is a lot in back to school season 

lays out all his things on the floor when you get home and tells you all about each item over and over again even though you were with him when you got them 15 minutes ago 

the most talkative child in class

always raises his hand, knows the answers 

even if he doesn’t he’ll raise his hand anyways 

immediately friends with everyone in the classroom

helps the crying students (like Wonho) feel better by making them laugh and giving them big awkward hugs 

gets invited to all the birthday parties

gets in trouble for learning the teachers first name and yelling “KAREN I HAVE A QUESTION” 

if you’re the one going to school he’s going to ask you all the questions about why you’re going and what you’d learn

you can’t take him to class with you because he’ll just yell at the professor 

“HEY MISTER SIR TEACHER SIR BEARDED DUDE MAN - WHAT IS MACHIAVELLI” 

you’d have to put him in a daycare 

Hyungwon:

will try to get everything in black 

you will have to show him the back to school sheet and force him to put the 7/8 black folders and notebooks back 

or else he’ll mess up his class subjects

wants to go overboard on the art supplies

will try to convince you that charcoal sketching pencils would be fine for note-taking 

the quiet kid whom everyone likes

switches seats a lot because the teacher likes to put him by the loud annoying kids to try to teach them a lesson

just rarely rarely speaks up

gets nervous if called on to answer a question

gets comments on his report cards that say “very smart but doesn’t participate enough in class”

if you’re the one going back to school he’ll just kinda wave you away like 

“bye have a good day as long as you come back i don’t care that much” 

but will be so so glad when you come home because he actually did miss you

so proud of your every accomplishment 

will let you know through extra cuddles 

Jooheon:

you know those lava-lamp rulers? yeah. he wants one of those.

also wants the car folders like Shownu

but also wants every Spiderman folder you can find

has a lot of energy

but is a real sweetie

Loves the “School House Rock” songs, knows them all by heart

will sing “Conjunction junction, what’s your function” all around the house, dramatically 

needs extra help with math

really likes when teachers play music and make the room smell like peppermint for tests 

goes all out at gym class 

particularly loves four-square 

aims for the head during dodgeball - will claim ‘accidentally’ but you just know

gets in fights about once a week, usually gets a bloody nose 

usually was defending a friend so he had good intentions but you’ll have to tell him over and over again his fists are not the answer

get used to getting phone calls

looses his first tooth (one of the front ones) during recess one day and can’t stop smiling and showing it to everyone 

if you’re going back to school he’ll be super pouty at first

but then be really excited when you explain why you’re doing it 

will miss you when you’re gone but wants to hear about your day when you come back - while cuddling, of course 

I.M:

Bill Nye the Science Guy is his hero

the most enthusiastic one chanting “BILL BILL BILL BILL BILL!” in the classroom

will get up and dance/bounce around fist-pumping the air while he does it 

sasses the teacher 

but very clever 

gives the teacher a poem and like a vegetable as a gift on the first day of school because he found it rhymed with their last name 

likes fake stabbing people with mechanical pencils

doodles on his jeans and his arms with markers 

is the one who helped Jooheon lose his tooth using the door and string method

is super shy for the first day of school but gradually warms up as the week goes on

wants to wear the same t-shirt every day 

tells you excitedly about his first day and who he thinks is going to be his friends and who he already hates 

will be the person with the handmade spitball gun

if you’re going back to school he’s super encouraging, helps you get ready

asks you questions about your homework and wants you to be happy 

gives you lots of hugs, bc when you hug him he feels better so it’s only logical that you would feel better if he hugs you

~~

Tag List: @zerotexas1975  @restfromthestreets  @tangledsparkles @purpletigertaetae @ruinedbyjin

[killervibe]

Lux et Veritas

Chapter 1: Cisco and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Read Prologue here 

Everything was always immaculate here, Cisco thought. How the walls and floors were shining white and polished. The state of the art equipment expensive in a way that had him skittish to touch the first few weeks, afraid of being scolded for using them.

He never was.

The people around him were too busy to take his notice, in their white coats and pencil skirts with heels bustling around him, all doing their jobs, just like Cisco was doing his. And how nice, he thought, getting to do this for real, some day.

Cisco was busy scribbling his signature on the papers, finalizing his last report after the data entry he finished. The lab was near empty, and he glanced around it, committing all the details to memory. He had taken to this lab from the very moment he had been assigned to the department, it had served well this summer as a quiet safe space, a home away from home.

Immersed in his paperwork, Cisco missed the mechanic swish of the automated glass door sliding open, not realizing he had company until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He smiled up at his supervisor, The Dr. Wells. It’s been three months and he still couldn’t believe it.

“Well, it’s three-thirty. You’re done. How does it feel?”

Cisco let go of his pen and sighed wistfully. “Honestly, Sir. Kinda down. I really like it here.”

“I’m glad. You were excellent to work with. I’ve already drafted a glowing recommendation for wherever you choose to pursue your higher education.”

A flush came to his face, and Cisco glanced aside, shy from the praise. 

“Thank you, Dr. Wells.”

“No, thank you. Where are you wanting to go to school?”

Cisco opened his mouth to reply when Tess Morgan sidled up to Dr. Wells’s side.

He wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and she clucked her tongue. “Don’t stress him, Harrison. He still has plenty of time to decide.”

“Well, my girlfriend and I were always planning for an Ivy,” Cisco said. “But I’d also take MIT or Caltech.”

“Engineering, I hope.”

“Yessir.”

Cisco stood up, unclipping his ID. School started tomorrow. Somehow swapping his Star Labs keycard for his old library pass was kind of depressing.

He looked down at it, his laminated card, the serial number they gave him. The picture he had taken on his first day, how he was pretty sure he blinked and yet it still turned out better than any framed Picture Day photograph hanging on the walls at home.

He felt important here. Like he belonged, like someone finally (finally) looked at him and went Yes, you. We like you. You’re good.

Cisco knew he was good, in the back of his mind, front of his mind, whatever. His GPA said so. His report cards said so. Barry said so (Hartley didn't, but who cared about him). Caitlin used to say so. He felt he was good.

Cisco hoped he was good, but was he really? Enough?

Probably not. And still, this taste of a dream, of his future that he so desperately wants to live now already is enough to motivate him to work harder to get it again. Permanently, next time. With his own lab and a desk with his name on it. A degree, a couple of them, with his name in latin script hanging nearby next to a window.

Hold your horses, he told himself. He needed to graduate high school first.

Cisco gave up his ID, handing it to Dr. Wells.

Dr. Wells looked down at the badge, but didn’t say anything for a while.

Tess grinned, “Oh stop with the suspense, look how sad the boy is, just tell him already.”

“What?” Cisco asked, looking back and forth between the scientist and his wife, unfollowing.

“The thing is, Mr. Ramon,” Dr. Wells began, returning the ID, “I’m not sure I want this back. Because the truth is, I’ve grown quite fond of you. And Tess and I were wondering if you’d like to continue shadowing at Star Labs during the Fall. Say, twice a week after school?”

Cisco’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “You want me to stay?!”

“We’d love to have you, Cisco,” Tess finished, beaming. “What do you say?”

“—I’d have to ask my parents,” he said immediately, and he winced at how juvenile that sounded but was relieved to see the two nod in agreement, “But that would be the best thing I’ve heard all summer.”

“Come back sometime next week, schedule an appointment and we can discuss contracts with a legal consultant, and a guardian of course.”

“Thank you so much!”

Dr. Wells shook his head, shooing him out. “Go. Enjoy your last day of summer vacation.”

~.~

Cisco was on cloud nine when he parked Dante’s car in the guest garage of Caitlin’s estate, bouncing on his heels in the elevator.

He fired off a quick text to tell her he made it in, then bounded for her library where he knew she would be memorizing the course outlines for tomorrow’s schedule. He creeped up behind her where she was reading silently at her desk, still a little off guard at all the tin-foil silver in her hair.

He covered her eyes, kissing her cheek and she dropped her pen. “Guess who?” he murmured.

Cisco removed his hands and she turned her head over her shoulder. “Hi.” Her eyes shined bright and soft, blinking at him with easy cheer. He couldn’t keep it in any longer, the news near busting inside him as he rubbed up and down her bare arms excitedly.

“Guess who’s boyfriend just got offered a Fall placement at Star Labs?”

Caitlin gaped, turning around. “Mine?”

“Yours! And Dr. Wells said he already wrote me a letter of recommendation for college!”

Caitlin squeezed his hand. “That’s amazing, oh my gosh! You deserve it!”

He shared her smile, pulling her up from the chair, and turning on the lights. Why she kept herself hidden in the dark alcove with only a window was beyond him when her house was equipped with the best green energy efficient systems on the market.

Her words spread a warmth in his chest and he wanted to believe them, but still, doubt creeped into his mind. His fingers skimmed over her dark wooden desk, focusing on rearranging her gel pens.

“Do you think so, really? All I was doing was writing notes and doing small lab assignments.”

Caitlin folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Stop selling yourself so short. You’re the smartest person I know.”

He looked up at her. "You're not just saying that because I'm your boyfriend so you kinda have to, but really, secretly, like deep down next your dark chocolate obsession you think Lily Stein the smartest?"

Caitlin laughed, swatting his arm like that would smack the silliness out of his head. "I am not obsessed with dark chocolate!"

"Sure you're not," he countered, eyes crinkling when she pressed a kiss to his cheek to distract him from checking her waste paper basket to prove his point.

"Lily's intelligent. Hartley's sharp. But you're my favourite smartypants," she said.

Cisco smirked a little, “You think Hartley got the same offer? Bet he didn’t.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes at Cisco’s ongoing battle with his nemesis, choosing not to comment. “We should celebrate.”

“We should,” he enthused, offering her his arm. She took it, looking at him expectantly. “How about dinner?”

~.~

After food, Cisco took Caitlin to the little dessert shop that overlooked the river. They shared cheesecake and Sprite, clinking each other’s forks.

Caitlin kept looking over at the water, quiet.

She’d been like that, lately, off and on. Like she'd fall into moods where she was afraid to talk.

“Is everything okay?”

She took a moment to respond, scraping cheesecake off the plate. “Fine.”

He gave her a look. Maybe there were things that changed between them. But Cisco will never lose the skill of knowing when she lied. And Caitlin knew that too.

“I’m just—Worried. About school.”

“You love school.”

“I love learning,” she corrected, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t love CC High. Not anymore.”

“That’s fair.”

“I’ve been dreaming about this year since middle school. Starting it with you and applying to college. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long. What if I don’t get into a good school?”

Cisco held his tongue. There was zero chance that Caitlin would be rejected from any university, and, to be frank, there was nothing her mother’s money couldn’t buy. She was a shoo in, has been since Freshman year to all the good schools. And even if she weren't a phenomenal student, legacy alone would admit Caitlin into every college her mother’s research was affiliated with.

He thought about Tess Morgan, and echoed her sentiment. “Isn’t it a little early?”

Caitlin looked out at the water again.

He wondered if her mother was pressuring her. He wouldn't be surprised, school was ramping up soon and with that came a tremendous amount of stress after years of all talk. Maybe Dr. T had finally laid down the law, and it was daunting. Cisco assumed it would be, considering the pressure he put on himself, and he didn't even have anyone counting on him to make it. At least, not until he met the Wells family, and their encouragement had never been coercive. Maybe coercive wasn't the right word. Caitlin's mom was...Intense.

“...Is this about Star Labs? Because I can put in a good word about you with Dr. Wells or help you find—“

He watched Caitlin’s face fall, rushing to deny it. “No, no no. It’s not that. I promise. I don’t mind. You don’t have to do that. I just—I left such a mess.”

Cisco reflected on the past year. She was not wrong. But it was not all her fault.

She gave him a sad smile, “I just wish things didn’t have to change.”

Cisco frowned, sensing she was talking about something a little beyond high school. “They don’t. You’re my forever, Caitlin. Nothing has to change, I’m right here.”

She blinked back tears, shrugging. “I just miss...” she went to her locket. The one she’s never taken off since the funeral. The one with his picture in it, hiding under her dad’s.

His face softened as it clicked. He should've known.

He took her hand, kissing it softly.

“I know.”

~.~

Cisco had a Pop-Tart hanging out of his mouth as he dumped all of his things into his old school bag. He ran a brush through his hair a few times, threw on a light jean jacket, and slung the bag over his shoulder. He bit off another gooey piece before banging on the bathroom door.

“Dante, dios!” he shouted over the loud rush of water. He’s been in there for half an hour already.

“The bathroom! I have to go!”

His mom’s voice called from downstairs. “Deja entrar a tu hermano!”

He rattled on the doorknob, but it was locked. He swore under his breath again, checking his watch. “Dude!”

“Bro, calm down, what the fuck,” Dante groused, unlocking the door with a towel around his waist. The steam went billowing out and Cisco almost choked on the intensity of the deodorant spray.

He pushed past Dante, muttering, going for his toothbrush. He paused before sticking it in his mouth with the toothpaste. “Aren’t you late? Don’t you have an 8:30 class?”

His brother rolled his eyes. “Chill. I’m skipping.”

Cisco’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, spitting into the sink.

“You’re skipping?”

Dante rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, you’re such a nerd. It’s not like high school, dumbass. Everyone skips class in college.”

“Is it recorded?”

“No.”

“Do you have friends in your class to take notes from?”

“No.”

“Are you going to work on another class instead?”

“No. I’m going to watch Netflix then probably take another nap before practice with the band.”

Cisco ran his hand through his nicely done hair. “Dante, I don’t understand you.”

Dante walked across the hall to their shared room, pulling on clothes.

“Don’t worry about it. Have a nice day at school. Kiss all the teacher’s asses for me.”

Cisco pulled himself together, breathing in deeply, reminding himself that he loved his brother and wasn’t allowed to smack him while he glared.

“Can I use your car?” he gritted between his teeth as Dante shuffled his hair some, ruining it altogether.

Dante waved him off. “I don’t use that crap anymore. It might as well be yours.”

He was already texting Caitlin that he was coming to pick her up, his eyes glued to his phone as he walked out the front door when his mother pulled him back by the strap of his backpack.

She kissed both his cheeks, pushing a sandwich into his hands. “Don’t break that attendance record. Give Caitlin a kiss for me.”

“Si,” he replied, waving goodbye at his little sister shrieking his name before he jogged down the apartment steps, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

Why’d his place always have to be so hectic?

~.~

Caitlin kissed him after she slammed the car door close, buckling in her seatbelt, grumbling under her breath.

"Mom troubles?"

"Just drive."

Cisco looked in the rearview mirror as he put the Toyota in reverse.

It was windy in a nice crisp September morning way, and Caitlin rolled down the window.

“You look cute,” he said as he drove off her estate.

Caitlin shrugged, “I wear a blazer every first day. It’s tradition.”

“I’ve noticed.”

It fell quiet. Caitlin wasn’t much of a morning person, and it was the first day of the scariest school year they’d face yet. There was too much going on in their minds for riveting conversations.

Cisco took a swig of water at a red light ten minutes later, stuck in the morning rush hour. He swished it in his mouth then swallowed.

“So I was thinking—”

“I was wondering—”

They both stopped.

“You go first,” Caitlin said.

“I was thinking that maybe you should talk to Barry before the bell. Just to get a fresh start. I can come with you.”

Caitlin curled her fingers around her designer bag, some big brand fashion company with lots of consonants like X and Z’s that Cisco could never remember.

“I don’t want to."

Cisco frowned. “But why? Barry isn’t mad at you, Caitlin. He just wants you to come back. He’s our best friend.”

She put her hand on his arm.

“You’re my best friend. You’re the only one I need.”

“So what, I’m stuck in the middle now? Homeroom to lunch with Barry, fourth period to final bell with you? How is that fair?”

“Actually,” she said. “I was thinking maybe we don’t make that big of a deal of it? Like, do people even need to know that we’re together again? Look what happened last time.”

Cisco narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going. “Caitlin. Everybody loves you. Nobody really loves me. This has already been established after what happened in April. Why does it matter anymore?”

She hesitated, tapping her fingers against the arm rest, leaning her head against the window. “I don’t want you to be a target again.”

“I don’t care,” Cisco said. “It’s just high school crap. I’m hoping we all got it out of our systems junior year. I haven’t kissed you in the hallway for how many months?”

Caitlin smiled down at her lap. “Six.”

Cisco made a disgruntled noise. “Six and a half, actually, but who’s counting?”

“Not me,” she lied.

They shared a glance.

“That’s too long. I’m not letting shitty people with nothing better to do stop me and neither should you.”

“Okay.”

She leaned over and kissed him quickly, then told him the light was green.

~.~

They had four classes together, but not homeroom, so Caitlin and Cisco split ways early on in the morning.

The bell rang, and Professor Stein cleared his throat.

“Welcome students to a bright academic year ahead!”

The class groaned, and Cisco shared an amused glance with Iris.

She leaned in, “Why does he say that every year?”

Cisco grimaced. “Fourth time’s the charm?”

Professor Stein told everyone to settle down as he took attendance, handed out the dozens of photocopied papers that needed their parents’ signatures and read the announcements. Soon enough, the bell rang, and they all got up to get to their first classes of the day.

Iris strapped her messenger bag over her shoulder. She wasn’t in the science stream, so this would be their only time together until humanities and AP English, which they didn’t have today.  

“See you at lunch?”

“Yeah,” he said, then thought of something. “Can you keep an eye out for Caitlin? I’m just—Not sure what she’s thinking she’s going to do.”

“You mean with Lexi.”

He quirked an eyebrow. Students were starting to come in, so Cisco hurried out, grabbing Iris by the hand as the hallways started to flood. “You don’t like her either.”

Iris laughed callously, and they walked to their lockers. “Hell no.”

“Oh thank god,” he breathed, trying to keep up with her quick pace. “I just don’t understand why she won't try to fix things. You haven’t said anything to her, have you? You two aren't fighting?”

Cisco watched Iris hang her coat up. “No,” she said. “Fighting? We're not even talking. Don’t get me wrong. I was pissed last year. What she did was awful.”

He felt the need to defend her, when he knew he probably shouldn’t. Iris must’ve saw the look on his face and rolled her eyes.

“No need to get all Caitlin Snow protection squad on me. I don’t hold grudges like that. I came to the funeral, didn’t I?”

Patty and Linda showed up, tugging Iris away. “Hey, gotta jet, but I’ll try, okay? I’ll do some digging for you. Shawna’s pretty easy to squeeze.”

Cisco wanted to thank her, but she was too far gone, giggling with her friends.

He sighed, standing in the middle of the hall. Without even a second longer to breathe, Jake Puckett barged into him. “Watch it, mosquito.”

“We’re back to that, Jake? Really?” Cisco yelled after him, still getting jostled as the crowd of students thickened in the tight corridor.

Puckett continued his taunting. “You look like a girl. Why don’t you get a haircut?”

“Maybe my girl likes it long dipshit,” he shot back. “Not like you’d know what that’s like.”

That sent Cisco flying into the lockers.

“I deserved that one,” he muttered to himself, trying not to wince at the way the metal hinges dug into his back. He dropped his folder when he hit the wall, his green permission slips about emergency contact information and school behavioural contracts now getting stepped on by careless idiots he called classmates.

He darted between people in the crowd to get them back, annoyed that nobody cared to help him. Then, annoyed that he expected this shit to change now that he was a Senior in the first place.

Just one more year. One more year, Cisco uttered under his breath like a mantra, falling into his ethics class’ front row seat just on time.

Their teacher started sprouting some stupid idea about going around and introducing themselves, as if everybody hasn’t already known each other since elementary.

“Hi? Um, my name is Brie Larvan. And I want to be a beekeeper.”

Cisco rubbed his temples, his mantra intensified.

~.~

By lunch, Cisco was waiting by Caitlin’s locker.

He saw her walk out of history with Lexi and Shawna. She paused at seeing him, her eyes going a little wide.

“Cisco, what are you doing?” she said, looking nervously at Lexi and Shawna, who had their arms crossed with identical bitch faces.

“Lunch?”

“Like, disappear mosquito. She doesn’t want lunch with you.”

Caitlin frowned, opening her locker. She put a new textbook into a top shelf and grabbed her lunch box. “We don't call my boyfriend that. Yes, I do want lunch with him.”

She took Cisco’s hand, and he rose an eyebrow at Shawna, a smidge too smug.

“Sorry ladies, later.”

"Your boyfriend?"  Shawna repeated, jaw dropping open.

Lexi gasped. “Caity!”

He felt her tension just by the way she held his hand. “I’ll see you in class, I’m still sitting next to you in art, just like we promised, right?”

Lexi’s smile looked a little off kilter. “Of course. Right. See you there, then. Have fun with...Cisco.”

Cisco, who had been trying to look anywhere but Lexi, eventually met her gaze.

She gave him a look, sucking lipstick off her teeth. It sent a chill down his spine, and he had forgotten (really, no, he hasn't, he really hasn't) how much he hated her.

She arched an eyebrow high in the air, like she was challenging him to acknowledge her. But Cisco didn't play her games.

He pulled Caitlin away, lacing their fingers together.

~.~

Cisco let Caitlin drag him far from Barry’s table without putting up a fight. In fact, they weren’t even eating in the cafeteria. They sat in the courtyard, watching the soccer team tryouts as Caitlin opened her packed box from her chef.

It was a nice day. Caitlin really did look gorgeous in her burgundy blazer and pleated skirt. It suited her, that classy uniform chic, and for the first time a thought occurred to him that struck odd. Caitlin belonged in a private school. One with 4.0 cut-offs, loads of legacy families, and a hundred thousand dollars for tuition. Dr. T letting her daughter stay in Central City to go to public school was a bit weird. She didn’t really belong here.

Cisco picked at dandelions as they talked, wondering why the grass was so unkept.

About twenty minutes in, Caitlin gave him a sly look.

Cisco looked up from his lunch, knowing that expression all too well. “If you’re going to kiss me, please let me finish my chicken first or else I never will, and I’m really hungry.”

She ignored him completely, prying the plastic container out of his hands. “Hey missy, I said I wasn’t— Mmmph!”

He missed this. He missed her. This Caitlin. His Caitlin.

It was like all the darkness swarming underneath her surface dissipated, and her true light was shining through.

He laughed as she climbed into his lap to kiss him more. They could get demerit points for this, and that heightened the sense of thrill. If they got caught it would be so worth it.

A shrill whistle pierced through the air and the two sprang apart. There was a foul on the soccer field.

“Still hungry?” she smirked with mirth, wiping the rest of her smudged lip gloss off.  

He played with her silvery hair. “Um, yes,” he flirted, catching Caitlin’s heated gaze. “Famished.”

“Good thing I’m here then,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he agreed, inching closer. “Very good,” and slipped his tongue in her mouth.

They made out until the bell.

~.~  

Outside was beautiful and peaceful. Cisco started to understand why Caitlin brought him out there.

“Oh my god, Caitlin! Over here!” Lisa shouted at the door, gesturing wildly at her to come back into the side entrance of school. “Hi Cisco!”

“Hey Lisa.”

Lisa Snart. She was something else, that one. Cute, in a dumb like a rock kind of way.

Maybe that was mean.

Lexi appeared over Lisa’s shoulder. "Come on, Caitlin! We’re going to be late!”

He got up with a sigh, and gave his girlfriend a hand. She took it, hers slender and soft in his, and didn’t let go.

They began walking towards Caitlin’s new posse.

“Why are they so possessive? It’s unnerving,” he couldn’t help but blurt out.

“It’s not me. It’s you. They think—”

“I know what they think,” he snapped, cross. As did everybody, no doubt. Cisco kicked at a littered soda can. “Tell them I didn’t.”

“I tried! They won’t believe me!”

“Then ditch them. It’s not that hard.”

She turned to him sympathetically, kissing him one last time.

“I can’t, Cisco. They’re my friends. I like them.” She untangled their fingers.

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” she insisted. “Stop saying things as if you’re me. I’m me. If they’re my friends then I’m not lying and you have to understand that.”

Cisco felt properly chastened. He took a step back, quiet. “Okay.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

Lisa and Lexi took to each of Caitlin’s sides, linking their arms together. Only Lisa looked back.

~.~

“Where were you? You dipped lunch. Iris said you’d be there.”

It was the second to last period of the day, and it just had to be gym, didn’t it?

Cisco ducked at the incoming fire of dodgeballs. “Yeah, sorry. Caitlin wanted to eat outside.”

A ball rolled to a stop beside him. He picked it up and chucked it, barely getting it past the midline.

The one class he and Barry weren’t good at. So what.

“You mean she didn’t want to eat with me.”

Cisco stopped, looking around. His team was going to lose no matter what.

“I think she’s just really embarrassed. Give her some time.”  

“Time?” Barry exclaimed, nearly getting hit in the face. “It’s been almost half a year! I miss her so bad. She’s in my geography class and she sat next to Bad Luck Becky instead of me.”

“Dude, watch out!”

“Huh?” Barry spun around in the wrong direction, and Cisco cringed as Barry got hit in the back by Woodworth, officially out.

Cisco followed him to the bench, not caring to even pretend he was playing anymore.

“What’s her deal?”

Cisco wrung his hands. “I don’t know. Her dad, I think. It shook her hard, and we weren’t there for her.”

Barry’s fingers were calming on his shoulder, unlike Dante’s, and different from Armando’s.

“Don’t beat yourself up about that. She pushed us away.”

It was easy for Barry to say that. Barry the best friend, their happy third wheel. It wasn’t the same for Cisco. Cisco, who had offered to pick Caitlin up when she fell down the slide in the first grade, who she had won the regional science fair with in grade 3, who she first told when they were ten that her dad was sick, really sick, and I really need a hug.

Barry was always there and supportive and the best friend, but he had Iris. Before him came Cisco and Caitlin. They were a duo, a package deal, each other’s forever.

Even if she pushed him away, even if she hurt him. She never meant to, just as hurt and twice as lonely.

“She needed me and I wasn’t there until it was too late. Now she doesn’t know who to trust.”

Barry reached for his water bottle, taking a long sip.

“So she trusts LaRoche? She knows what she did to you, doesn’t she?”

It was humiliating just thinking about it.

Cisco shook his head. “She only knows that I tutored her for the SATs.”

Three thumps on the back was what it took for Barry to stop coughing, spluttering water everywhere.

“You need to tell Caitlin. ”

“No. Drop it. And don’t tell Iris either.”

“But—”

Coach Adam’s bullhorn blew sharply, interrupting them both.

“— Allen! Back on the court! Don’t make me give you another C!”

~.~

The last class of the day was math with Professor Stein. Cisco had it with Caitlin, and they sat in the front row, scribbling notes furiously to keep up with their teacher’s enthusiastic ramblings. When the final bell rang, Professor Stein called them both to stay behind.

“I’ve got something for my 4.0 lovebirds.”

He leaned behind his desk for two thick envelopes and deposited one in each one's hands.

Caitlin tore hers open quickly, curiosity getting to the best of her. A stack of viewbooks from prestigious schools were freshly pressed, smelling like new paper.

“Straight from the guidance counsellor's office. They’re not yet out on rotation, you see, but I figured my overachieving students wanted a first peak.”

“Oh wow,” Caitlin replied, already looking into the Harvard one. “These have the updated statistics.”

“Of course, my dear.”

Cisco leafed through the schools in his selection, pausing at MIT, eyes lingering on rolling green hills of its campus.

Professor Stein pointed at Cisco. “And how was your internship at Star Labs?”

“The greatest. They want me to continue twice after school.”

“Really now? That’s quite remarkable.”

“Isn’t it?” Caitlin smiled, proud of him. Cisco blushed. “I told him so.”

There was a knock at the door, and Shawna appeared. “Caitlin we need you right now. It’s an emergency.”

Caitlin looked to Cisco.

“I thought I was driving you home. We could look at these together.”

“We really need you, Caity. Becky’s crying. I can drive you home.”

“Tomorrow,” Caitlin promised, squeezing his shoulder, then thanked Professor Stein again for the viewbooks.

Cisco tugged on her blazer for a goodbye kiss, reluctant to let her go. She leaned in, her fingers delicate on his face, smiling against his lips.

Shawna stomped a little, rolling her eyes, “Can we go?”

“One minute,” Caitlin said, looking into his eyes. “We’ll go over our favourite schools tomorrow?”

He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. “It’s a date.”

She grabbed her bag and the envelope, then followed Shawna out the door.

Cisco watched Caitlin scurry after Shawna, who was stomping away in her spiked combat boots.

“I’m glad that whatever squabble you two had seems to be put behind you.”

Cisco turned to their teacher, unashamed that he witnessed him smitten.

“Me too.”

Professor Stein had always been perceptive and easily approachable. Cisco had gone to him in times of trouble in the past four years plenty.

Cisco sat on a desk as Professor Stein tidied up, reflecting. “Sir, how do you help someone through grief?”

His teacher took off his glasses, cleaning them with the edge of his shirt before he responded. “This is about the passing of Dr. Snow?”

Everyone knew. He supposed they had to, not only because Caitlin’s dad had been an active donor and contributor to the restructuring of Central City High’s science stream, but because Cisco guessed it was required for her teachers to take special attention.

“She’s just not the same.”

“She won’t be,” he advised, firm yet gentle. “She lost one of the most important figures in her life.”

The only figure, Cisco thought bitterly, thinking about Dr. T’s suspicious absence in Caitlin’s life. It always made him scratch his head, how two people who lived in the same house could avoid and ignore each other for so long.

If Cisco could avoid Dante, he would.

Maybe it was a matter of the size of the house.

“I want to be there for her, but sometimes I feel like she’s pushing me away. Do I give her that space? Should I be persistent? Love is hard,” Cisco groaned after his monologue, flopping against the row of desks as if he were in a therapist’s office, not his math class. His teacher chuckled at him.

“Ah, but is your affection for Miss Snow difficult to muster? It takes effort for you to demonstrate your care?”

“No,” Cisco protested. “No, that’s easy.”

Professor Stein tapped on his shoes, asking him to get them off the desks.

Cisco's legs swung over the side obediently, and he sat back up.

Professor Stein tilted his head, and Cisco was alarmed to realize how his favourite teacher’s hair was beginning to grey. 

Maybe that’s what made him stand out. After teaching as a professor and publishing his books, he came back to a high school to teach kids because he cared about them. Cisco didn't think he could do that. Lily was really lucky to have him as a dad.

“I know you love her Mr. Ramon. Patience is virtue. You’re astute for a young man of your age. Show her that love the best you can.”

That sounded about right.

“Yessir.”

“Now go home, enjoy those viewbooks.”

Cisco tucked the envelope under his arm, and took his advice.

~.~

Cisco was leafing through the glossy pages of Duke’s viewbook at the kitchen table, trying to concentrate through the constant keyboard banging leaking through the adjacent wall. He wasn’t allowed to ask Dante to be quiet, not even when he had to study and it was one of his pet peeves.

Don’t disturb him, Mama would always say, but his keyboard had an ear jack? Cisco had bought Dante a good quality headset a year and a half ago, thinking it would be a great gift to them both. 

Dante didn’t use them, Cisco bet the wrapping was still on the box, buried somewhere in their closet considering he’s never seen them and it’s not like their room was very big. So who was the one really being unnecessarily disturbed? 

How their neighbours haven't come pounding on their front door yet begging for silence was a mystery to him.

He was just getting into the gritty details of the application requirements when Rosita peered up at him on her tiptoes. Her ten little fingers gripped the table, eyes barely making it past the edge as she pushed herself up to see what Cisco was looking at.

“What are you doing?”

“Leyendo,” he said absentmindedly, showing her the bright graphs. She didn’t reply, and he looked down, how she had zero reaction, then forgot she was still fuzzy on verbs. Forgot that she couldn’t even read yet.

“Reading,” he translated. “For college. See? This is in North Carolina.”

“You’re leaving?” her voice wobbles, thick with hurt. “Like ‘Mando?”

Armando’s been gone at Cleveland State for two years, majoring in business. Cisco’s surprised sometimes that Ro even remembers their oldest brother.

“Not right away. But next year, yeah.”

Cisco didn’t see the big deal. He felt Rosita was pretty lucky, getting the apartment practically to herself. Cisco would have loved to be left alone growing up, not constantly stuck rubbing shoulders with the six people crammed into their three bedroom apartment with nowhere to breathe. But Caitlin and Barry both said growing up as an only child was lonely, wishing for siblings. Cisco wouldn’t know.

“Why?”

“Because I want to go to school, like the one you’re going to start tomorrow,” he explained. He glanced down at the entrance requirements and chuckled at his own analogy. “Except this isn’t kindergarten.”

There was just enough room for Rosita to squeeze onto his seat. He patted the space, and she climbed up with a little "oof” until their thighs were pressed together.

He read to her what was on the page just to keep her busy. It was the pictures she was interested in anyways.

“Where’s Mama?” he asked after a while. They had moved on from Duke to Stanford. Their dad still wasn’t home from work either, but he wouldn’t be, he usually wasn’t at this time.

Rosita shrugged her shoulders and Cisco rolled his eyes at himself, wondering why he expected the five year old of the house to have all the answers.

He slid off the chair, noticing the way she was droopy, her messy black curly hair spilling against the table as she leaned her head against it. 

“Did you have a snack?”

She rolled her head from side to side with a whine. Cisco took that for a no.

He pulled out a fruit roll-up from the kitchen, ignoring Caitlin’s voice in the back of his head warning about high fructose.

After seeing to it that she’s good with opening the wrapper, Cisco knocked loudly on the doorframe of his and Dante’s room. “Where’s Mama?”

Dante kept playing, ignoring him. Cisco marched right over to the outlet and unplugged the keyboard.

“Hey!”

“Yo Beethoven. Were you supposed to be taking care of Rosita? Because I came home to her climbing the curtains, Dante.”

His brother waved him off, “She’s fine.”

“She was hungry.”

Dante glanced up at the clock on the wall.

“Mama went grocery shopping. We’re going to have dinner soon anyways.”

“Not for another few hours, I wasn’t supposed to be home this early. You can’t leave her alone like that she’s too young, and Mama expects us watch her!”

Dante banged his fist against the quiet keys, and Cisco had to keep a straight face at how that looked. “Stop fucking lecturing me, I’m older than you!”

“By a year,” Cisco scoffed. “Don’t go on about being 18 if you won’t even act like an adult.”

“Yeah, because you want to be an adult so bad, Cisco, don’t you? It’s just a number it doesn’t make you older.”

Not for the first time, Cisco found himself missing Armando. Things were easier with Dante when he was around, how he was practical like Dante yet level-minded like himself.

The door slammed loud behind him, frustrated. Dante was Dante. What was he to do? At least he got his car.

Cisco took his stack of books to the living room, wiping off Rosita’s sticky fingerprints from off the Stanford cover and got really interested in Harvard’s crimson booklet.

By dinner, he was excited, sprouting out campus facts as his dad asked to pass the bowl of vegetables.

Rosita kicked her legs in her seat beside him, happily munching away on the roast beef.

“Dude, just. Shut up,” Dante said with his mouth full after Cisco went on a, self-admitting, spiel about Stanford’s aeronautics engineering program.

Cisco narrowed his eyes, defending himself. “I have to apply by November for early admissions. That's two months away. We're talking about my future here.”

His mom and dad shared a look, one Cisco couldn’t decipher. He put his fork down, sensing dread.

“What? I told you, my SAT scores are really high. Maybe not Harvard okay, but MIT, UPenn, I think I have a real shot.”

It went quiet, it was uncomfortable and Cisco felt nervous, like he was the butt of a big joke.

“What?”

“Get that Ivy League crap out of your head, we can’t afford it.”

His mother gasped, hitting his father’s arm.

Cisco looked to Dante, who had his glass paused halfway to his lips.

“What Papa means is we know you talk big plans with tu novia, but where will the money for that come from?”

The words were faint, Cisco feeling a rush in his ears as his mind began to race, trying to compute. "Mama, I don't understand.”

“Those schools sound very expensive, Cisco.”

This couldn’t be happening, he pushed his plate away, sick to his stomach.  “Two years ago you said you had money put away for me.”

“That was before Dante changed his mind about CCU music. And it was never going to be enough for what you’re talking about. We were already tight with Armando’s tuition.”

Dante coughed, nearly choking on the food, startled. “Mama,” he gaped, after a giant swallow of water. “¿Su dinero?”

“He is older, Cisco,” his dad replied, and it was condescending, felt cold like ice down Cisco’s back. “If you want a fancy college you’ll need a job, maybe two. You might have good grades for CC High, but for a full scholarship where everyone is smart? Be realistic, Mijo.”

Cisco’s eyes were stinging, blurring as the weight of their words washed over him, and he was so unprepared, so unbalanced to hear that news, it knocked him over, and now he felt like was going to drown.

"You don't think I'm good enough?"

"That's not what we're saying," his mother corrected, "But we do believe your aspirations are out of tune."

Out of tune. Giving all his college money away to his ungrateful brother, permitting him to Netflix in his room under the guise of studying composition, was out of tune.

He stood up abruptly, not able to stomach any more.

“You used my money on Dante? Dante? Who doesn’t even show up for school? Have I not been clear since I was twelve how much I wanted this?”  

Rosita burst into tears at the volume of his voice, covering her ears. His mother ran to Rosita.

It wasn’t Rosita’s fault. It wasn’t. She was just a child. She was little, but somehow the way his mother ran to her and picked her up adoringly, soothing her whimpering was the last straw, twisting something in Cisco until it bent and snapped.

“You care for everyone in this house but me!”

“Francisco.”

“It’s true!” he cried, and maybe it wasn't, but his world was imploding, and this wasn't his fault, Cisco didn't do anything to deserve this.

He swiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his jean jacket, furious, “You never listen, you never care, you don’t know anything about what I want or am going through, even when I say it. It’s all about Dante or Rosita. You didn’t even care that I was chosen for Star Labs’ internship, how big of an accomplishment that was for me. Or that Caitlin’s papa died!”

“You were at Star Labs?” his father questioned, sliding his glasses up his nose. “Dante did you know this?”

His mother tore her gaze from his sister, stunned. “Dr. Snow?”

Even his parents were out of tune with each other. Out of tune, they said about him going to an Ivy, about becoming an engineer, he still processing it, outraged. Cisco wanted to throw up.

Dante spoke up. “Papa of course I knew he wouldn’t shut up about it. He was gone every day.”

Dante was defending him for once, probably guilty, and he should be, Cisco thought, but that wasn't enough.

He was on a roll, unable to stop yelling, “Armando got everything he wanted! Dante gets anything he asks for, no questions! A motorcycle, he goes and you're all oh, sure Dante, here you go, only pay half. Then he says, Haha surprise, I want to go to college after all, and so you go sure, let us deplete our youngest son's college funds!"

Even Rosita quieted, staring at Cisco.

"What?" she said, voice full of innocence.

His face crumpled, but he refused to break in front of them. "I worked so damn hard, and I get nothing?”

“It is not nothing,” his father scolded in Spanish. “CCU is a fine school, Francisco. You are just prejudiced. Caitlin is a fine girl, but her privilege has gone to your head.”

“That’s not true,” Cisco snapped back, switching languages smoothly. “This has nothing to do with Caitlin. Mama, tell him.”

She lowered her gaze, fussing again with Rosita’s plate, without replying.

His parents’ quietness was all the confirmation Cisco needed. A dark chuckle, more like a huff from a pushed out exhale escaped him, and he shook his head.  

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, looking at the faces of his family. He didn’t even want to be here anymore.

“Well, since I got your attention,” he spat, “I was offered a placement at Star Labs for the Fall for after school. I need a parent to sign the contract with me.”

“¿Se paga?” Is it paid? Mama said.

After all that.

Cisco choked on his answer, already imagining what they were going to say. “No.”

“You’ll have to choose then, what you want more.”

Was this what it felt like? To see his entire future hanging by a thin, loose, unravelling thread? Cisco shouldn’t have to choose. Star Labs was his ticket out of here. Out of this mess, the one outstanding point on his application which would give him those scholarships, that admission.

But his parents didn't understand, and they won't.

And that's what was worse. It was not the lack of money, or that they gave it to Dante (even though that cut deep, and Cisco wasn't quite sure it was something he could ever forgive). He knew that they weren't wealthy, that they were four kids and still not even in a house. But they made it work for their children, set up this illusion, this fake fantasy land Cisco had been living in for years and watched him entangle himself deeply there, plant roots in it, and still never bothered to come clean and correct him.

They watched him grow up and fall in love with math and science--and Caitlin, and get his glowing letters from his teachers and still think the idea of him going away to one of the country's best schools was silly. Childish, like one of Rosita's make believe stories.

How could they see him, see what he's willing to sacrifice, how hard he'll work, has worked, and still be so confident that Cisco was wasting his time?

“I’m going to sleepover at Barry’s,” Cisco announced, too upset to look them in the eye. Too angry to wait and listen to their reply. To be given permission to leave.

They were way past granting him permission to do things anymore, in his books.

Dante tried to pull him back when he passed by, uttered his name, but Cisco pushed, shoving his brother out of his path with a hard glare, poisoned with fiery pain, daring him to say another word.

He didn't wait for the elevator of the building to make it to their floor, just ran down the spiralling steps, all at once, and fled.

~.~

Cisco called Caitlin twice but it went to voicemail. He banged his head against the steering wheel in the humid, sticky old car with the rusted paint and broken AC, keys still in the engine, motor running, stalled in the apartment parking lot, and cried loud ugly sobs.

~.~

Dr. Allen didn’t question why he had to double his pancake recipe in the morning, just ruffled Cisco’s hair and called him and Barry sluggers, and for that Cisco was grateful.

Cisco parted ways with Barry on the Allen's front steps, after he got pulled in for a hug. 

"We'll look at options, okay? Jobs and stuff." Barry cracked a smile. "Maybe we can wait tables together."

"You'd do that for me?" Cisco, asked, pleasantly surprised.

Barry nodded. "I could use some extra cash, to take Iris out and stuff. You want to walk to her house with me?"

Cisco nodded to the Toyota. "Nah, I told Caitlin I'd pick her up this year now that I have the car. I'll see you in school."  

~.~

Cisco sat in his driver's seat, tapping his fingers against the dashboard, still dreary, exhausted, and weighed down, but, hopeful to see the one person who would be sure to make him feel better.

Minutes clocked by and his hope turned to worry, and he wrestled with the idea of unbuckling his seatbelt to see what was wrong.

Because something was wrong. Caitlin was late. And she's never been late in all the years that he knew her.  

She was late and so he was just as relieved as surprised when Dr. T knocked on his window, after walking briskly down her house's long driveway.

He rolled it down, frowning. “Is Caitlin sick?”

“She already left with her driver,” she informed. “She made it clear that she didn’t want to see you.”

It was like being dunked in cold water.

“What?”

“Get to school, Francisco.”

Cisco grabbed his phone in the glove compartment, about to call her, not above believing Carla Tannhauser pulling a fast one on him (she never did exactly like him, but this would've been cruel) when the text came through.

❤ Caitlin ❤ : We're breaking up.

[paperboysclub-blog]

12 THINGS: USED FOR DIFFERENT PURPOSES THAN PREVIOUSLY INTENDED

It may surprise you to learn that some things were invented for different purposes as compared to what they are actually being used for at present. You can find out more about these items in the following details.

1. Beer Mat

Beer mats are derived from the German term bierdeckel that signifies ‘beer tops’. They were manufactured in the 19th century for restaurants having summer verandahs and used for covering drinks to prevent the entry of insects. At a later stage, they started being used as coasters for people to place their drinks so the table does not get soiled.

2. Tea

During earlier times, China used tea as a tonic drug; in Europe, it had medicinal uses; primarily, for the treatment of Gout. Apparently, Doctor Cornelis Dekker proclaimed that tea is helpful for those groups of people on the verge of dying. Additionally, he advised people to sip 50 cups of tea on a daily basis. Well, there were reports of him being paid by East India Company.

3. Reading and Writing Tools for the Blind People

During 1808, Captain Charles Barbier was the pioneer of the ‘night alphabet’: a specialized system that permitted the coding of messages amongst military personnel for reading at nighttime. As a result, the enemy’s attention was not attracted due to flashes of light. Barbier thought that his invention could help the blind as well. Surprisingly, the ‘night alphabet’ became more popular than the Haüy system that was prevalent during those times. Furthermore, Louis Braille who invented the modernized mechanisms for reading and writing for the blind is known to have gained inspiration from the ‘night alphabet’.

4. M & M’s Candy

Did you know that your favorite M & M’s were created for the military officers of World War II? This is indeed true. The reason they were preferred over their chocolate counterparts: they did not melt in the sun like chocolate. During the latter part of the 1940s, the candies made their way into the mass market. Also, their motto was ‘Melts in your mouth, not in your hand’ – the reason for their manufacture.

5. Balloon Animals

It is so strange to know that as per the tradition of the Aztecs, balloons were twisted into animal shapes during their existence. These figures were charred atop their pyramids as a sacrificial act for their Gods. For creating these balloons, they were known to blow air into the animal’s intestines and tie them with plant-derived threads. Sounds really weird right?

6. Umbrellas

Well, we have Jonas Hanway to thank for showing us the way to open umbrellas in the rain; this was way back in 1750. During the past times, countries such as China and Europe used umbrellas only for protection from the sun’s rays. There were different terms for these items such as ‘parasol’ meaning ‘for the sun’ and ‘zondek’ denoting canopies.

7. Hoods

Varied nations around the world have their own distinctive hoods. However, the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin was the man behind this clothing becoming famous. Hoods get their name from the French term for hoods: Capuchons. Hoods were used by the Capuchin Friars for masking their faces, symbolizing invisibility.

8. Cognac

The story of the origin of Cognac has an interesting twist to it. Post the Hundred Years’ War, wine originating from the Charante areas recorded poor sales. It was bought by only Dutch sailors for selling in the Northern part of Europe when they sailed to those destinations. However, the freshness of the wine could not be preserved for the long journey. As a result, they thought of preparing distilled wine because it was cheap and could be shipped easily. Its preparation required the wine to be mixed with water. Nonetheless, it was observed that the flavor of the distilled wine was enhanced when it was kept in oak barrels. Additionally, there was no need to mix water for drinking it. As a result, cognac was invented.

9. Computer Games

Did you know that games such as Minesweeper, Hearts and Free Cell were invented for teaching people how to operate computers and not for entertainment purposes? This is indeed true. During the 1990s, when Windows 3.0 entered the market, people did not know how to use a computer mouse. Games like Minesweeper and Freecell were introduced to teach people their use. According to the grapevine, by playing Minesweeper, users could become better acquainted with the left and right mouse buttons.

10. Loops on the Behind of Shirts

There are 3 purposes for which it is believed that shirts have a loop at their backs. Firstly, there were handy for hanging shirts. Secondly, they could be used for attaching ties. Thirdly, by far the most romantic version, it was a student of an American University who removed his shirt’s loop to signal that he was dating a girl; on the other hand, the girl had to adorn his college’s scarf.

11. The Blue of the Erasers

If you ask anybody about the purpose of the blue part of an eraser, they are most likely to say that it erases pen ink. Astoundingly, this portion had a different function in the past. During previous times, the blue part could effectively erase pencil sketching from thickened paper. The red part left stains on the paper but the blue portion performed the job to perfection.

12. The 5th pocket of your jeans

Nowadays, the 5th pocket is handy to carry small items including coins and condoms. But, did you know that in 1873, Levis jeans had a 5th pocket for holding a ‘pocket watch’? Yes. In fact, if you browse through their catalogs, this pocket is referred to as ‘watch pocket’.

Blog Source: paperboysclub.com

[zipgrowth]

Pencil Versus Keyboard: What Do We Know About Learning How to Write?

Like many skills, good writing comes with good practice. Just ask Jane Hyatt Yolen, author and editor of more than 280 books, whose most notable quotes include: “Exercise the writing muscle every day, even if it is only a letter, notes, a title list, a character sketch, a journal entry. Writers are like dancers, like athletes. Without that exercise, the muscles seize up.”

But what does the research actually say about learning how to write in an increasingly digital age, let alone finding a good “workout” for our students to build the muscle? Researchers tell EdSurge that a shift towards digital over handwriting could have negative effects on young readers and writers, but some educators think technology and social media can create new ways to engage students in the writing process.

When it comes to writing and technology, some studies suggest that handwriting is better for memory—but Ron Kellogg, a professor in cognition and neuroscience at the University of St. Louis, insists that’s not the end of the story. 

He explains that writing an essay or report is a complex process that combines language production, memory retrieval and thinking ability. And where he thinks the typing versus handwriting debate plays out the most interestingly is with learning the process of writing, not just memory retrieval.

“There is a concern that the more recent [generation] that isn't being taught handwriting is doing worse with the ability to learn to read, and not reading well affects the ability to write,” says Kellogg, who has studied writing and cognition since the mid 1980s. Because of that, he thinks “the de-emphasis on handwriting can be a problem.”

Neuroscientists have suggested this before. In 2014, Edouard Gentaz, a professor of developmental psychology at the University of Geneva, told the Guardian that bypassing handwriting may affect how students learn to read. “Drawing each letter by hand substantially improves subsequent recognition,” he said.

There is a concern that the more recent [generation] that isn't being taught handwriting is doing worse with the ability to learn to read.

Ron Kellogg

That article asserted that “although learning to write by hand does seem to play an important part in reading, no one can say whether the tool alters the quality of the text itself.” But Andrew Dillon, a professor of psychology at the University of Texas, Austin, thinks the physical act of writing can in fact play a role in students’ ability to learn how to craft longer, more meaningful texts.

“The act of handwriting does force an attention to the [writing] process,” says Dillon. The actual physical act of writing, “is an attentional attractor, which means the learning process is more concentrated for handwriting over typing. This is almost certainly important in early learning of the skill.”

Jocelyn Chadwick, a former English educator and current president of the National Council for Teachers of English, takes a more progressive stance on theories around handwriting, typing and teaching students how to craft a message. To her, what’s worked best for students both before the smartphone generation and today has been exposure to all kinds of writing, whether that be in the form of literature, newspaper journalism or billboards. Now, she says the same idea applies for digital tools like text messaging or social media platforms like Snapchat. The point is to expose them to all the different ways writing might appear or be necessary—and engage students in learning how to write at whatever level (or platform) they latch on to.

“To teach writing, such as cursive writing, that's just the mechanics of it,” says Chadwick. “If we all look at writing not as a mechanical thing, but as something that surrounds us all the time, then [writing] wouldn't be as daunting as we have made it for students and as formulaic as the five paragraph essay.”

I understand using social media is to get [students] motivated, but what we have witnessed is a tremendous shortening of the average document.

Andrew Dillon

Much of Dillon’s research focuses on digital text and cognition, and he’s interested in how writing has changed over time. It’s why he challenges the approach—at least when it involves social media or other forms with 140-character limits.

“I understand using social media is to get [students] motivated, but what we have witnessed is a tremendous shortening of the average document,” says Dillon. “The form itself is constrained. There are patterns of communication that cannot be reduced if you want to communicate ideas fully.”

Dillon claims he witnesses effects of this even at home: “I don't see handwriting disappearing, but I do see its importance changing. I see it in my own teenage son.”

If we all look at writing not as a mechanical thing, but as something that surrounds us all the time, then [writing] wouldn't be as daunting.

Jocelyn Chadwick

Had we checked in with Chadwick ten years ago, she says her opinion would have been different on the matter, and she may not have been as open to lumping in texting and social media with her writing pedagogy. But in recent years, she’s come to appreciate digital writing tools—and thinks they can be just as effective in learning if used in a way that still offers students the same processes that writing has always involved: thinking, editing, making mistakes or even starting over.

“Some psychologies say you can't manipulate a page on a tablet [the way you can a physical paper]. But I can do that with an Apple pen on my [device],” says Chadwick. “I can draw and read and highlight notes in the margin. I can also make notes to myself on a draft, and later print it out.”

To be sure, Chadwick does not advocate for a full-fledged technology takeover when it comes to teaching students how to write. As with most lessons, she says learning happens when a teacher uses what works best for the student.

“It’s not an either-or, it’s a blend,” says Chadwick. “And the blend comes in where we reach our students.”

Pencil Versus Keyboard: What Do We Know About Learning How to Write? published first on http://ift.tt/2x05DG9

[writ1622vmk-blog]

Project 3: Theory of Writing

In this reflection, I will touch on many topics that were discussed throughout the course of this WRIT 1622 class. Firstly, I will touch on literacy practices of the Twenty-First Century and the future. Digitality has greatly shaped the evolution of literacy, and I will examine this in more detail, in the context of writing and composing in a digital age. Second, I will define what literacy means to me. At the beginning of this class, I simply thought that literacy meant “the ability to read and write,” but I now know that it is not so easy. Lastly, I will define my theory of writing, and examine how it can be applied to other situations in my own life.

Writing and composing is much different with the use of technology than writing with pen and paper. The essence of writing is the same; allowing your thoughts to manifest as words that can be read by an audience. However, the way that writing is carried out is significantly different with and without the use of technology. Physical handwriting takes more effort than typing, and is more time consuming. Typing allows for quick documentation of thoughts that can easily be edited later; it can be more deeply rooted in one’s stream of consciousness. The activity that was done in class, in which we hand-wrote every thought in our head over the span of ten minutes, allowed for the appreciation of technology. With the use of a computer, we could have typed out more content than what we achieved whilst handwriting. Additionally, writing with pen and paper takes more focus than writing with the aid of technology. I see this reflected in other aspects of my academic career. I often choose to type things that I could easily handwrite, such as notes in biology. As I will mention later in this essay, handwriting is often better for learning. However, it usually comes down to a matter of convenience. In the words of Dennis Baron: “I readily admit my dependence on the new technology of writing.”

Contrastingly, while typing is easier and better for speed, it has detrimental qualities as well. As we have discussed many times in class, and have read in Nicolas Carr’s article “Is Google Making Us Stupid,” technology is distracting and takes away from the sincerity of literacy. It is easy to be distracted by technology and all the features that is offers; digital communication is often a constant stream in the 21st century world. There are pros and cons to this as well: it is nice to have communication at your fingertips, but when focus is needed, it can become a huge distraction. In the DU Mass Literacies project, we asked students for their thoughts on their own literacy in the digital bubble that makes up this college campus. They claimed to enjoy using technology, but acknowledged that it can have adverse effects on their learning and education at times. Therefore, I believe that choosing pen and paper or a laptop boils down to personal preference, and the style that one can learn in. However, as stated in my definition of literacy, “fluency in the technology of the present time is necessary to be able to be classified as “literate.””

As seen on the DU campus, students are in touch with technology in the current day and age. Therefore, to be a writer and composer in a digital age means to use current technology, or at least be able to do so. If students, or any other person, can read, write, and be familiar with the technological mechanics of their time, they can be called a literate individual. A concept that has taken hold of this writing class over the past 10 weeks is that literacy is ever-evolving. Literacy cannot exist without evolution, as its definition includes familiarity with new technologies that change and improve with time. Therefore, looking ahead, it can only be hypothesized that literacy will continue to evolve just as it has in the past. As discussed in the previous paragraphs, the spotlight of the 21st century is technology; the digital world rules those in literarily advanced countries. Here, in the United States, many forms of literacy tie back to technology. In colleges, as viewed in the DU Mass Literacies project, laptops are not only encouraged for students, but required. Even in the older generations, such as office jobs or other advanced careers, computers have taken over the practice. Therefore, it can be hypothesized that technology will continue to grow, at an even faster rate.

In contrast, the DU Mass Literacies project completed in class provided evidence that pen, paper, and physical books have not been completely lost to technology. Many people prefer the “traditional” way of reading and writing, and the laborious work of physical handwriting. This signifies that in the future, paper and its relatives will still be preserved. Paper traces back as far as Egyptian papyrus, and perhaps even further. The fact that it is still around today proves its influence on literacy as a whole. The flying cars and hoverboards featured in the famous 80’s film “Back to the Future,” may not be so far-fetched, but that does not mean that paper will disappear from literacy. In the future, people will most likely still read and write in the traditional sense of physical books, but technology will continue to evolve and advance as it has in the recent past. “How the computer will eventually alter literacy practices remains to be seen (Baron).”

My definition of literacy has changed drastically over the course of this class. I will look at multiple theorists, and my own learning, to show this. One of the theorists I will rely on is Stephen King. I responded well to the chapter he authored, entitled “On writing.” I enjoy his writing style, but more than that, I enjoy his appreciation for literacy and writing. The second theorist also comes from this class: Dennis Baron, the author of the article, “Pencils to Pixels.” Baron touched greatly on technology of writing and how it has changed writing practices that we know today.

I believe that literacy is more than a set of skills. Yes, one must embrace the technology of their time in order to really be literate, as literacy practices transition with changing trends and movements. However, literacy means more than this. Without understanding the words you are hearing, reading, or speaking, there is no literacy. Literacy moves beyond the capability to speak a language. I believe that true literacy stems not only from an ability to master, but an understanding of: Reading and writing in your native language, technology of the present day and time, and the zeitgeist[1] of the current era. Without the depth and understanding of that which you read and write, can one really claim to be literate? Therefore, my new and improved literacy definition is as follows: Literacy includes the ability to read, write, and use the technologies of the present day and time, in your native language. Literacy is also the ability to comprehend complex literature, intellectually-stimulating rhetoric, and oral narratives. The zeitgeist of the current time period is, additionally, an important component to literacy; without understanding it, your literacy does not evolve over time, which does not follow the essence of literacy; it is always changing.

Finally, my theory of writing is as follows: “Writing is the ability to answer questions that a read may have, or in other words, the ability to satisfy the audience. There should be a purpose to what is being written, and the audience should learn and feel something.”

All writings must cater to an audience. Inside the classroom, the audience is often the professor or other students in the class, which has been the case with this WRIT 1622 course. In the classroom, your writings and assignments should cause the professor, or whoever is reading the text, to feel something and be able to intellectually respond to what is being said. In a chemistry lab report, which I often write, my professor should be able to thoroughly understand what I did in the experiment, and should feel that I know what I am doing. Thus, the purpose of the writing should be to intellectually respond to a prompt and what is expected of the student. Outside of the classroom, the theory still applies. Writing, as an essence of literacy, can directly connect with other forms and practices of literacy, which includes speaking. When speaking to someone, there is always an audience, and there should always be a purpose. Sometimes, the purpose may be to catch up after a long time, offer advice to a friend, or argue an idea that one may firmly believe in. No matter the reason for the encounter, there will be a purpose and an audience, and the ability to recognize that and respond accordingly is the essence of my theory of writing; always cater to your audience.

 Additional Note:

I decided to create a typed essay in order to fully embody the argument that I am making: without technology, there is no literacy. Typed text resembles text that is handwritten, but is easier to create and edit. Therefore, typed essays capture both the traditional sense of writing, while integrating current digitality.

 References:

"Zeitgeist." Merriam-Webster.com. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 11 Mar. 2017

Baron, Dennis. "Works Cited." Pencils to Pixels. N.p., n.d. Web. 13 Mar. 2017

[1] Zeitgeist: The general intellectual, moral, and cultural climate of an era (Merriam-Webster).