Entry Seventy-Five

[dreamermoa]

....

You didn't - do it on purpose. I - I know that. You're...going to come back for me.....after everything...

[her voice cracks.]

It's okay. I'm not - angry. I'll be okay.

[she's trying not to cry, not until she gets the communicator out of her hands at least...]

H-Hawkeye, can I...come stay with you? F-for a little bit. Just....

[mission fail. The tears are falling.]

Feel kind of lonely.

Comments

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

[takes his hand, vaguely.]

What's college?

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

It's a system of higher education. Haven't you ever gone to school? [He looks over at her; she seemed normal enough - but then again, so did most, until one got to know them.]

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

Oh.

[school?]

Oh.

[a little embarassed.]

...No.

[she fidgets. Aware of the fact that most places seemed to have a solid system of education, and that most people had gone to school, and expected that everyone else had too.]

There were no schools in the ghettos. My neighbor used to try to teach us writing and science and math, but...

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

[Dan frowns a little.] Do you attend the school here, with the others?

If you don't, I -- I mean, I don't know how good a teacher I am, but if you wanted to learn something, I could help you. [He falters - he's good with kids, but Moa confuses him. She seems so delicate and different from who he's known.]

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

The others? They all look so young...

[he sounds awkward. Maybe he thinks she's stupid. Maybe she is. Still, though. She's not going to waste an opportunity.]

That'd be nice. I can write a little already.