senseless denial [imogen]

[Hayley Cameron Kessler]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 460px; background-color: #f7f7f7; padding: 8px;] [STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 35px; color: 525252; letter-spacing: -5px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; line-height: 24px;]YOU GET SOME RIGHT[/style] [STYLE=background-color: 525252; text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; color: AFD4E3; padding: 1px;]YOU GET SOME WRONG 조금 힘들어도 웃는 날이 올꺼야[/style] [STYLE=background: url(http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/ss334/Midori-chii/q181.jpg); height: 100px; width: 100px; border-bottom-right-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 60px; border-bottom-left-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 60px; border: 5px solid #525252; margin-top: -6px; float: left;] [/style] [STYLE=color: padding: 16px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; color: 7D9199; background-color: EDEDED; border-bottom-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 10px; border-bottom-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 10px; border-top-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-toprightborder: 10px; border-top-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-topleftborder: 10px; margin-top: 5px; margin-left: 130px; width: 300px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]✔ tag: Imogen ✔ notes: I hope this post is okay! c: ✗ lyrics: someday by U-KISS ✗ credits: rayah! of BTN![/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; color: 79A3B5; border-bottom: 1px solid #DEDEDE; text-align: center;]SOMETIMES HIT, SOMETIMES MISS, IT'S ALWAYS LIKE THAT...[/style] [STYLE=font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; background-color: EDEDED; text-align: justify; color: 808080; padding: 7px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]If logic was doing all the talking, then it would say that now would be a good time to get caught up on classes and subjects Hayley planned to take when the year started again. It was always wise to get ahead of the game, and if she got a brief idea of what she would be learning early on, then it would make understanding the details a far easier task when the time came. As a result, a number of hours had been wasted attempting to navigate through the lovely land of physics and calculus rather than relaxing on a towel on top of the warm sands of the local beach. Was she angry and frustrated? The correct answer was yes. As the type of person who took pride in being independent, Hales was far from pleased at knowing that perhaps she would have to seek the help of her handful of genius-like friends. She had broken free from a few stereotypes about cheerleaders when she proved to be rather intelligent in comparison to some of her peers, but sometimes it still stung to know that she had to rely on others for help regarding school. It was correct to say she absolutely loathed receiving aid, but she supposed being mature about it was better than stubbornly trying to handle everything by herself only to have the situation take a terrible downturn. Unfortunately, accepting the truth didn’t make taking action any easier. She continued to sit in the sturdy wooden chair parallel to a matching table in the reading area of the book warehouse in the mall, eyes focused on the textbook. Her gaze periodically shifted towards the right to gaze at her cell phone, but it would hurriedly avert back to the hardcover book. Focus. She had to focus. But that feat seemed to be increasingly difficult to accomplish when the black Times New Roman letters in size ten began to dance and swirl around in some sort of abstract whirlpool. Okay. Task not being accomplished. Maybe it really was time to call for help. A groan laced with aggravation escaped Hayley’s pouty lips as she reluctantly reached for her cell phone. A few taps on the screen allowed her to access her contacts, and she automatically looked for a certain Imogen Green who always seemed to have all the answers. Hopefully the petite genius had her phone on and would get the message. The cheerleader didn’t know much about the life of nerds besides the rumours that they studied nonstop, which allowed them to seep knowledge from every pore. Did that mean they had no social life and didn’t even hang out with each other? Or did they hold study group parties and text each other lame academic jokes outside of school? Perhaps the answer would never be known to the world. Tapping a few more buttons on the sensitive screen, Hales finished her short request for help and proofread the message (she hoped Imogen was satisfied that she was being so picky about that accuracy of her spelling and grammar). When satisfied, she pressed the small, green send button and sat back, waiting for a reply and taking a short but necessary break from her unproductive attempts at self-teaching.[/style]

[IMOGEN ELIZABETH GREEN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 388px; border: 10px solid #d9d5c4; background-color: #dee0dc; padding: 15px;][STYLE=font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-size: 32px; padding-left: 3px; border-bottom: 8px solid #b1afa5; color: #9d9a8d; letter-spacing: -2px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px 87857d; text-align: center;]not romantic, too dramatic [/style][STYLE= border-bottom: 8px solid #b1afa5; text-align: center;][/style][STYLE=background-image: url(); opacity: 0.7; padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-size: 7.5pt; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #434443]Imogen was in her basement and the basement was her domain. The white earphone of her iPod were stuck deep into her ears, the strains of Robert Smith from The Cure singing Just Like Heaven were making her bob her head, her long blonde locks lazily slipping down to cascade over her shoulders. Imogen was covered in smudges of graphite and charcoal. There were splodges on the backs of her hands and fingertips were she'd blended the lines she'd drawn to smooth them out. She was wearing her old shorts and raggedy John Lennon t-shirt that belonged to her father in the sixties but had now become her painting shirt. She was working on a canvas that was resting against the far wall. She had been for several hours now. Her parents were out, doing something she was sure she wouldn't care about. The picture that was taking shape was a familiar scene from Paris. The Eiffel Tower from the Trocadero, at sunset. Imogen's fingers worked nimbly, smudging and drawing as she chewed on her lower lip, completely lost. It made her homesick which was stupid because Paris had never been home to her. She was more akin with France; she didn't fit in here, she never had and she never would. Next to her, her phone beeped and flashed, showing that she had a new text message. Looking bemused, she downed tools before wiping her hands on a rag, turning her phone and was confused. Hayley Kessler. What? Blinking, she read the request and she had to snort. She was stuck studying, was she? Hm. At least she had minded her grammar and punctuation. Jogging back up the stairs, she quickly washed her hands and changed out of her old clothes into a dress before grabbing her bag, collecting her physics books, pens and car keys before shutting the door and hopping into her jeep. It didn't take too long for the blonde to get to the Book Warehouse. She knew it well. While her peers spent their weekends getting drunk and fornicating, she preferred to spend hers happily nestled between the dark wood of the shop. She was on first name terms with all of the staff and the manager. Was that sad? Parking up, she flung her satchel over her shoulder as she cradled her books into her chest, her flip flops clack-clacking against the floor as she stepped inside. It didn't take her long to find Hayley; a girl with a figure like hers stood out like a sore thumb in a place like this. "Hey," Imogen stated, a little out of breath as she finally found the cheerleader. Pulling out a chair, she plonked herself down on it before opening up the cover of the same book Hayley seemed to be waging a war with. "What is it you're having trouble with?" Imogen asked, slipping into tutor mode as she clicked her pen, holding it above one of the pages as she was ready to write. She flicked her navy blue eyes back up to her friend as though waiting for an explanation. [/style] [STYLE=background-image: url(http://i1214.photobucket.com/albums/cc483/wafflesandsyrupp/96877866.jpg); opacity: 0.7; padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-size: 7.5pt; letter-spacing: 1px;]tagged

[/color] Hayley/Nova <3
words[/color] 518
notes[/color] Perfect as usual![/style]

template made by cray cray for BTN

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[Hayley Cameron Kessler]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 460px; background-color: #f7f7f7; padding: 8px;] [STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 35px; color: 525252; letter-spacing: -5px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; line-height: 24px;]YOU GET SOME RIGHT[/style] [STYLE=background-color: 525252; text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; color: AFD4E3; padding: 1px;]YOU GET SOME WRONG 조금 힘들어도 웃는 날이 올꺼야[/style] [STYLE=background: url(http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/ss334/Midori-chii/q181.jpg); height: 100px; width: 100px; border-bottom-right-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 60px; border-bottom-left-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 60px; border: 5px solid #525252; margin-top: -6px; float: left;] [/style] [STYLE=color: padding: 16px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; color: 7D9199; background-color: EDEDED; border-bottom-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 10px; border-bottom-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 10px; border-top-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-toprightborder: 10px; border-top-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-topleftborder: 10px; margin-top: 5px; margin-left: 130px; width: 300px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]✔ tag: Imogen ✔ notes: Sorry for taking so long to reply! ✗ lyrics: someday by U-KISS ✗ credits: rayah! of BTN![/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; color: 79A3B5; border-bottom: 1px solid #DEDEDE; text-align: center;]SOMETIMES HIT, SOMETIMES MISS, IT'S ALWAYS LIKE THAT...[/style] [STYLE=font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; background-color: EDEDED; text-align: justify; color: 808080; padding: 7px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]As Hayley waited for Imogen to arrive, she decided to take a much needed breather in the form or sitting back and observing her surroundings. Unlike school, the book store didn’t suit her very well as a setting. The people entering and exiting often seemed amusingly similar in fashion sense and the first impressions that they gave. They wore modest clothing with simple designs and patterns, and a number of them wore thick glasses that screamed nerdy. She would never understand why so many people who were book smart would stick to a silly stereotype about physical appearances when they could easily get a hold of another wardrobe and a pair of contacts. Perhaps there was some sort of unwritten rule that banned people from being smart and stylish, but she couldn’t honestly say she had ever heard of it, and it never seemed to apply to her. That wasn’t to say she was any sort of mini genius, but she was fairly intelligent compared to some of her peers, and she liked to think that her current choice of outfit consisting of a tank top and a layered skirt already was more in fashion than the raggedy T-shirts and worn jeans that she had seen a few too many times. She really stood out around here, didn’t she? It began to dawn on her that she could extend a good influence by getting her peers up to date with the clothing that was in season. The image began to vaguely form in her head, and Hales nearly scoffed at its absurdity. Cheerleaders such as herself were not meant to become close buddies with a bunch of nerds, even if Imogen had been an exception. The catch about exceptions was that they were rare; if they were common, they would become a norm, and that would take the entire meaning out of the word. Beginning to grow weary of people-watching, Hayley redirected her attention to her physics book. Now was the time to learn, not write a research book about the lifestyles of the mysterious creatures known as nerds. The moment she decided to end her break from studying was the moment Imogen showed up and sat down with impeccable timing. It was hard to refrain from smiling when she quickly slipped into tutor mode and went right to business, but it wasn’t as if the cheerleader had expected anything else from her friend. She just wasn’t the type to fool around when there was something that had to be done. Sitting up straighter, Hayley flipped her textbook open to the practice questions placed at the end of the first chapter and pointed to the topic that was printed in bold print at the top of the page as she replied, “Hey, thanks for coming. I’m not really sure how to begin. I expected physics to be difficult so I wanted to start from the basics. I get the gist of the topic, but a lot of the problems baffle me. I know I have to use certain formulas, but how do I do that when the question doesn’t really give me all the numbers?” Setting aside the scrap paper she had scribbled all over from past attempts at solving problems, she placed a new sheet of paper in front of herself, ready to try again but with Imogen’s help this time. [/style]

[IMOGEN ELIZABETH GREEN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 388px; border: 10px solid #d9d5c4; background-color: #dee0dc; padding: 15px;][STYLE=font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-size: 32px; padding-left: 3px; border-bottom: 8px solid #b1afa5; color: #9d9a8d; letter-spacing: -2px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px 87857d; text-align: center;]not romantic, too dramatic [/style][STYLE= border-bottom: 8px solid #b1afa5; text-align: center;][/style][STYLE=background-image: url(); opacity: 0.7; padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-size: 7.5pt; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #434443] Imogen had never been particularly good with the small-talk which was probably why many parents asked her to tutor their kids. The blonde took no shit, she never had and she never would. If the kid didn't want to learn, that was their choice, she was still getting paid at the end of the day. Once settled, she spread out her belongings in perfect military precision. Her textbook was open and tilted at perfectly even angle. Her calculator was just above it with her pencils exactly five centimetres from the calculator. She really needed to chill. Imogen's pale fingers reached into her bag to extract a pair of thick black square rimmed glasses which she swiftly placed on her face and slid them up the long bride of her nose with an equally long index finger. Could she possibly get any more cliché? It was hilarious. "My pleasure," came the clipped reply with a measured smile. She didn't mind Hayley, she was one of the cheerleaders whose head was not filled with cotton candy and butterflies. The only cheerleader like that, really. "It's my job to help," she concluded and she supposed it was. It was her calling to help juvenile delinquents pass a number of subjects. Not that Hayley was a delinquent or anything. Imogen smiled again, tickled by the other blonde's question. She really was adorable. "You've got to use your noggin, Hales," Imogen replied, leaning across the table a little to gently tap her friendly playfully on the forehead with the end of her pen. The taller girl didn't notice a few of the dubious glances being sent there way. She supposed cheerleaders didn't frequent these parts much. She imagined they spent most of their time in the mall, buying lipstick and gossip magazines that never used words longer than six letters. That was a bit rude but that was all she'd really seen those girls really do. "Okay so one dimensional motion," Imogen began with a nod of her head. She could understand Hayley's issue, it was a bit stupid. "It means an object is moving in only one plane and in a straight line. Like rolling a marble on a table," she said, flicking her big blue eyes up to her friend's to check that she was still with her and hadn't gotten distracted. "You need to put all of the variables together in an equation to explain it. See the letters?" She asked, pointing them out individually. "Write these down," she instructed before carrying on. Initial Velocity is (U). Final Velocity is (v), Acceleration is (a), Distance Travelled is (s) and Time Elapsed is (t)." "Now you know what these letters mean, you can turn them into numbers," Imogen carried on gently, making sure Hayley was keeping up. The reason she had the other girl write them down was simply because it was easier to keep as a reference guide. Hayley was good at maths, Imogen knew with the basics written out, it was a case of simple addition and division. "Now it's all written out, reread the question again. Take note of the figures given, yeah?" Imogen asked, pointing out where the question gives the speed of the car, distance travelled and how long it took. "Change the letters to those numbers and use the equation to figure it out." It was a fairly vanilla question, asking something about how long it would take if something was dropped from a height of 1.40 meters at a speed of 1.67 metres, how long would it take? The answer was 1.29 seconds. Hayley would get there, she just needed a touch of clarification. Adjusting her glasses again, she absently looked around as she let the other blonde get to work. Her big navy eyes flicked back and forth, resting for a second or two on the people who entered. The bookstore was Imogen's domain. She felt comfortable here. No one bothered her, there wasn't a threat of being shoved into a locker or heckled. No. Here she was respected, everyone minded their own business and left her the Hell alone. Just how she liked it. It made a refreshing change. "How have you been?" She asked Hayley gently as she tilted her head to the left a little. [/style] [STYLE=background-image: url(http://i1214.photobucket.com/albums/cc483/wafflesandsyrupp/96877866.jpg); opacity: 0.7; padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-size: 7.5pt; letter-spacing: 1px;]tagged

[/color] Hayley/Nova <3
words[/color] 713
notes[/color] affsjkkja physics is NOT my strong point lololol xD[/style]

template made by cray cray for BTN

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