Begrudging Buys
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xx | When she had imagined doing all of her first-year purchases in preparation for her upcoming start at Hogwarts, Kahira Valerian had not imagined... this. Some elements were right: the late July date (so that she could attend the summer-camp and get her first glimpse at Hogwarts early), the lack of a parental figure hanging around, the fashionable green-and-black ensemble that would surely identify her to any onlookers as both a pureblood heiress and an incoming Slytherin (most certainly). But others were... well, perhaps not quite as up to snuff. For one, Kahira's dreams of a shopping spree had mostly featured her childhood best mate, @Nova Vancourt, as a companion - not... Jeremy. The two eleven-year-olds had been thrown together by their fathers, Aldric Valerian and Thomas Slater. Business partners of a sense (that sense being that Aldric occasionally relied upon Thomas for the acquisition of some of the rarer potions ingredients that the Valerian Consortium often needed), the two men had accompanied their young children to the alley so that they could discuss an upcoming business deal - something about a "unique" and "hard-to-find" breed of dragon for the powdering of claws. Whilst the pair of ex-Slytherins reviewed the finer points of their negotiation over drinks in the Leaky Cauldron, Kahira and Jeremy had been sent away with pocketfuls of Galleons to purchase their necessary school supplies, with Kahira's elder brother @Blaize Valerian (godmod perms given) as a sort of chaperone, probably so that Kahira didn't spend away the family fortune. Luckily, Blaize had been easy enough to lose in the crowd. Jeremy, not so much. There was also the issue of her fellow incoming first-year being a major nitwit, a bore, and a bit of a whiner to boot. Kahira wasn't particularly close with the Slater boy, but they had grown up with an occasional meeting, though she had never been fond of him due to the fact that his father was a half-blood and that, therefore, meant that Jeremy's blood ran as dirty as the Muggles who were standing in the currency exchange line at Gringotts on this very day. She had received plenty of lectures from her parents about treating Jeremy with "kindness", because despite the fact that his blood was impure his father was very good at his job and not the sort of business connection the Valerians wanted to lose. It was rare that Aldric and Eloise took such a stance on mudblood connections, but that didn't mean Kahira had to agree with them, and so she went into this forced trip barely holding back an eye-roll. He had taken positively forever at Flourish and Blotts. Kahira was a reader herself, and couldn't wait to dive voraciously into Magical Drafts and Potions just as soon as she returned to her room in Chipping Campden, but even she had to admit that Jeremy's obsession with literature was bordering on unhealthy. She had very nearly just abandoned him there, but after enough poking and prodding (some of it literal, some metaphorical) the brunet boy had finally come with her. "It certainly took you long enough," she sniffed rather haughtily as they proceeded down the cobblestoned street to the next shoppe and Kahira's personal favourite. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions: her safe space. She didn't physically tug the taller boy in with her, but certainly would do so with her words: "Come on, now. I have simply been dying to get my new robes fitted, and after we spent all that time just moping around some dusty old books, I should dare say that you owe me one." |
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| kahira valerian second gen | _____________________ | shop | ___________________ |
Begrudging Buys
“Hey, I was reading that, you know,” Jeremy huffed, the slightest of pouts on his face, as he finally gave in and left the book shop, after what felt like no time at all to the boy (though it often felt like that when he was reading).
Jeremy NEEDED to have a SERIOUS talk with his father.
Sure, he KNEW that business meetings were important and all that. But this was the SECOND time this summer he had been cast off into the care of some random girl who he barely knew. Okay, fine, it wasn't like he'd been looking for any quality time or anything. He’d wanted independence from his dad to explore Diagon Alley, but not like THIS. HE was the one that was supposed to ignore his dad. Not the other way around!
Yes, as soon as they got home, he'd be having a talk about this. He would lay it out logically - with FACTS. He'd make a whole presentation if he had to. He'd call it “Why I’m old enough to go into Diagon Alley by myself, and not have to go with some random girl.” (If that failed, he’d settle for “Why I’m too young to go into Diagon Alley by myself, with just some random girl”. That wasn’t really the approach he wanted, but he'd take it, because the real problem was the random girl)
Ok, Kahira wasn’t REALLY a random girl. He DID know her... sorta. She was the daughter of one of his father’s business partners, and he'd been to her house before, but he’d never really paid attention to the other kids of his father's business partners cause he never really wanted to. He'd spent a whole lifetime trying to ignore them, and now TWICE. TWICE! He was just thrown off to them like they'd been friends for life. And Kahira was even pushier than JO had been. And that was saying a LOT. (Plus... he didn't really like the way she looked at him.)
Maybe this was what he got for insisting on buying his own books. His father had told him that his sister already had old books, and she was graduating, so why not use hers? But Jeremy had insisted. He loved the way new books smelled, and besides, what if they had changed editions? The world could have learned a lot of stuff in seven years! Books got updated all the time. And now here he was...being tugged along, away from the most interesting place in Diagon Alley.
Maybe it was the words ‘dusty old books’ that REALLY got him mad, or maybe it was cause the last thing Jeremy felt was that he ‘owed her one’ (seriously?! That one made his jaw drop). But now everything she said was really starting to get on his nerves 'Ohhhh i’ve just simply been DYING to try on my new robes, aren’t you just totally positively DYING to?' Bah.
“Oh yea, I’ve been simply dyyying to get my new robes too,” Jeremy said, rolling his eyes, in case she couldn’t tell he was making fun of her. Jeremy didn’t like to make fun of people, because it was mean, but sometimes people just did stuff that you couldn’t HELP but roll your eyes at. He didn’t think it really counted in that case.
Kahira probably wasn’t lying, either. She probably really WAS dying to get her robes fitted. Jeremy could tell from the way she was dressed. Basically, she dressed like she actually TRIED to dress herself, like every single little bit of clothing she had was picked carefully and delicately, which was kind of a foreign concept to Jeremy. That might have just been a girl thing though, because his sister had been that way too. How did she even have time to do anything else? Jeremy was happy to let his Mum pick out his clothes, which saved a lot of time that could be spent on much more important things. He didn’t know how he knew but he was positive that Kahira picked whatever that was by herself.
“I’m coming already, jeez. At least books are interesting. Who cares about clothes?"
Jeremy HATED having clothes fitted. You had to stand there for what felt like forever, while somebody poked and prodded at you. It sounded like a nightmare, and he had JUST already gone through quite a lot of poking and prodding at the book store, from a certain someone. Being poked and prodded by Madame Malkin (if that was her real name) AND Kahira at the same time? Double nightmare.
Jeremy NEEDED to have a SERIOUS talk with his father.
Sure, he KNEW that business meetings were important and all that. But this was the SECOND time this summer he had been cast off into the care of some random girl who he barely knew. Okay, fine, it wasn't like he'd been looking for any quality time or anything. He’d wanted independence from his dad to explore Diagon Alley, but not like THIS. HE was the one that was supposed to ignore his dad. Not the other way around!
Yes, as soon as they got home, he'd be having a talk about this. He would lay it out logically - with FACTS. He'd make a whole presentation if he had to. He'd call it “Why I’m old enough to go into Diagon Alley by myself, and not have to go with some random girl.” (If that failed, he’d settle for “Why I’m too young to go into Diagon Alley by myself, with just some random girl”. That wasn’t really the approach he wanted, but he'd take it, because the real problem was the random girl)
Ok, Kahira wasn’t REALLY a random girl. He DID know her... sorta. She was the daughter of one of his father’s business partners, and he'd been to her house before, but he’d never really paid attention to the other kids of his father's business partners cause he never really wanted to. He'd spent a whole lifetime trying to ignore them, and now TWICE. TWICE! He was just thrown off to them like they'd been friends for life. And Kahira was even pushier than JO had been. And that was saying a LOT. (Plus... he didn't really like the way she looked at him.)
Maybe this was what he got for insisting on buying his own books. His father had told him that his sister already had old books, and she was graduating, so why not use hers? But Jeremy had insisted. He loved the way new books smelled, and besides, what if they had changed editions? The world could have learned a lot of stuff in seven years! Books got updated all the time. And now here he was...being tugged along, away from the most interesting place in Diagon Alley.
Maybe it was the words ‘dusty old books’ that REALLY got him mad, or maybe it was cause the last thing Jeremy felt was that he ‘owed her one’ (seriously?! That one made his jaw drop). But now everything she said was really starting to get on his nerves 'Ohhhh i’ve just simply been DYING to try on my new robes, aren’t you just totally positively DYING to?' Bah.
“Oh yea, I’ve been simply dyyying to get my new robes too,” Jeremy said, rolling his eyes, in case she couldn’t tell he was making fun of her. Jeremy didn’t like to make fun of people, because it was mean, but sometimes people just did stuff that you couldn’t HELP but roll your eyes at. He didn’t think it really counted in that case.
Kahira probably wasn’t lying, either. She probably really WAS dying to get her robes fitted. Jeremy could tell from the way she was dressed. Basically, she dressed like she actually TRIED to dress herself, like every single little bit of clothing she had was picked carefully and delicately, which was kind of a foreign concept to Jeremy. That might have just been a girl thing though, because his sister had been that way too. How did she even have time to do anything else? Jeremy was happy to let his Mum pick out his clothes, which saved a lot of time that could be spent on much more important things. He didn’t know how he knew but he was positive that Kahira picked whatever that was by herself.
“I’m coming already, jeez. At least books are interesting. Who cares about clothes?"
Jeremy HATED having clothes fitted. You had to stand there for what felt like forever, while somebody poked and prodded at you. It sounded like a nightmare, and he had JUST already gone through quite a lot of poking and prodding at the book store, from a certain someone. Being poked and prodded by Madame Malkin (if that was her real name) AND Kahira at the same time? Double nightmare.
Begrudging Buys
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xx | To Kahira, it truly hadn't mattered if the boy was in the middle of reading something by the time she finally managed to get him to leave. She'd have left without him if she hadn't been so vastly concerned with following her father's directives (to a certain point - @Blaize Valerian likely wouldn't admit to Aldric that he had lost his little sister, but Jeremy was probably more of a tattletale, and Kahira wasn't going to risk that). The scarlet-haired soon-to-be-first-year knew full well that if left to his own devices her brunet companion would've simply tried to read the whole store, so it truly wasn't important if he had been in the middle of a book. If she had let him finish it, by the time she would have attempted again to leave, he would have already been in the middle of another one. So why he was being such a petulant brat was a complete mystery to her. At least he agreed with her on the topic of trying out new robes - that is, until Kahira heard the elongated form of barely-hidden sarcasm in his tone. She pursed her lips, trying to remember what her parents had told her: Kindness. Patience. (Two of her weaker suits.) "You could certainly use some," she muttered under her breath, sending a judgmental side glance at the boy's clothes. They weren't terrible, per se, but certainly didn't read couture. Had someone else chosen them for him, or was he just lacking talent when it came to styling himself? A jaunty cap like Kahira's own would have made a world of difference, for instance, or shoes that didn't look like they had come from some dusty Muggle's antique sale. He asked who cared about clothes, then, and Kahira barely held in a critical cackle. Cleary, the answer to that was not the boy in front of her. Within a few moments, the shoppe attendants had both of them up on pedestals; Kahira had carefully taken off her cardigan and folded it gently over the back of a nearby chair, then stood confidently and as tall as her diminutive stature could allow, obediently holding out her arms. She had learned long ago that freezing oneself into a statue was the way to avoid being pricked by the needles as the seamstresses draped her in fabric and pinned her exact measurements. Dark eyes cast a sneak peek over at Jeremy, who was likely not as used to receiving custom clothing. "You know, if you try to at least look like you enjoy it, they shan't prick you as often," she said, almost a joke, but not quite. "Why do you seem so miserable?" |
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@Jeremy Slater
| kahira valerian second gen | _____________________ | shop | ___________________ |
Begrudging Buys
“Huh?” Jeremy said, looking down to try to inspect his own clothes. They looked normal to him. A navy polo, brown trousers. His mum usually said he had to look a LITTLE nicer on days like this, because he was doing his school shopping, though Jeremy didn’t really get what one thing had to do with the other. He didn’t get what Kahira was talking about either. He looked fine! How bad could a person look, anyway? He had trousers, a shirt, socks and shoes, and what else did you need to do? “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” he accused, though half because just really didn’t know the answer.
He was pretty sure he was being insulted, though Merlin knew why.
Soon he found himself getting ready to have his robes fitted. Having to stand still while they poked and prodded and made him hold his arms up was enough to make him wish he could just tell them to give him whatever they had, and forget the whole measurement thing. It would probably be good enough, wouldn’t it? And then he wouldn’t have to stand here for (what felt like) five hours.
The boy felt restless, and no matter how hard he tried to stand still he couldn’t help but fidget and kept getting poked. Kahira on the other hand, seemed perfectly in her element. She took the fitting with grace. HOW did she stand there like that? It was insane! It was unnatural really. She barely moved at all, like this was how she spent every day, and loved every minute of it. Jeremy just didn’t get it. They were kids! They weren’t supposed to be able to sit still. And Jeremy was an indoor kid. He didn’t even like to run or tussle or whatever boys were supposed to do. He thought he was pretty good at just sitting still and being quiet, and yet he was still having trouble while she was just standing there like the Queen of England, and she looked like she thought she was about as important as that too.
Maybe though she was right about one thing. Maybe Jeremy’s inability to stand still and be patient was darkened by his mood, which had grown sour from the moment he’d been sent off again this morning. Kahira didn’t seem to understand. Jeremy didn’t understand why SHE didn’t understand. Didn’t she realize they were just here getting stabbed a lot and poked and prodded and scolded, when he was BARELY even moving?
“Why do I seem miserable?! Ow—” Jeremy said, hissing as his swift turn around to Kahira did not go appreciated by the seamstress. “Sorry,” he mumbled to the lady, before shooting another glare at Kahira, this time with just his head. How was she NOT miserable? She hadn’t seemed to like this arrangement any more than he did, so why was he the only one complaining?
“Im miserable because my dad had to talk to your stupid dad, and now I’m stuck with you, and you called the books dusty, and you made fun of my clothes, and you keep talking like you’re sooo great even though you’re not,” he said, feeling a strange lump in his throat. He was surprised he was feeling so much, when nothing had been done to deserve it. Tearing up would be about the worst thing possible right now, but luckily he shook off the feeling. Jeremy didn’t get how he had gotten so unlucky. It had sounded like a nice enough day, but once again Dad’s business was more important than Jeremy. If he was gonna get put with random kids, couldn’t they at least be nice? He maybe hadn’t been so nice to Kahira either, but the difference was, that she had deserved it.
“I’m sorry I called your Dad stupid,” Jeremy said after a moment. “But the rest of it is still true.”
@Kahira Valerian
Soon he found himself getting ready to have his robes fitted. Having to stand still while they poked and prodded and made him hold his arms up was enough to make him wish he could just tell them to give him whatever they had, and forget the whole measurement thing. It would probably be good enough, wouldn’t it? And then he wouldn’t have to stand here for (what felt like) five hours.
The boy felt restless, and no matter how hard he tried to stand still he couldn’t help but fidget and kept getting poked. Kahira on the other hand, seemed perfectly in her element. She took the fitting with grace. HOW did she stand there like that? It was insane! It was unnatural really. She barely moved at all, like this was how she spent every day, and loved every minute of it. Jeremy just didn’t get it. They were kids! They weren’t supposed to be able to sit still. And Jeremy was an indoor kid. He didn’t even like to run or tussle or whatever boys were supposed to do. He thought he was pretty good at just sitting still and being quiet, and yet he was still having trouble while she was just standing there like the Queen of England, and she looked like she thought she was about as important as that too.
Maybe though she was right about one thing. Maybe Jeremy’s inability to stand still and be patient was darkened by his mood, which had grown sour from the moment he’d been sent off again this morning. Kahira didn’t seem to understand. Jeremy didn’t understand why SHE didn’t understand. Didn’t she realize they were just here getting stabbed a lot and poked and prodded and scolded, when he was BARELY even moving?
“Why do I seem miserable?! Ow—” Jeremy said, hissing as his swift turn around to Kahira did not go appreciated by the seamstress. “Sorry,” he mumbled to the lady, before shooting another glare at Kahira, this time with just his head. How was she NOT miserable? She hadn’t seemed to like this arrangement any more than he did, so why was he the only one complaining?
“Im miserable because my dad had to talk to your stupid dad, and now I’m stuck with you, and you called the books dusty, and you made fun of my clothes, and you keep talking like you’re sooo great even though you’re not,” he said, feeling a strange lump in his throat. He was surprised he was feeling so much, when nothing had been done to deserve it. Tearing up would be about the worst thing possible right now, but luckily he shook off the feeling. Jeremy didn’t get how he had gotten so unlucky. It had sounded like a nice enough day, but once again Dad’s business was more important than Jeremy. If he was gonna get put with random kids, couldn’t they at least be nice? He maybe hadn’t been so nice to Kahira either, but the difference was, that she had deserved it.
“I’m sorry I called your Dad stupid,” Jeremy said after a moment. “But the rest of it is still true.”
@Kahira Valerian
Begrudging Buys
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xx | Kahira ignored the brown-haired boy's petulant whining about her offhand comment concerning his clothes; if he couldn't notice that his plain "trousers, a shirt, socks and shoes" combination was... well, just that - plain - then that was not her problem to solve. Sure, the Valerian daughter would've made over the world if given the chance, but only people she actually liked - which were few and far between. Only the best of the best deserved her magic touch, and Jeremy Slater was certainly not one of the chosen few. The snap about her family, however, was much harder to "forgive and forget". So what if he didn't enjoy this? (How someone could not love getting new robes, with the seamstresses primping and preening all over you like you were the only and most important in the world at the moment, was beyond Kahira - but that was a different conversation entirely.) She hadn't enjoyed Flourish and Blotts (at least, once she'd purchased all her textbooks and done the necessary perusing through the potions section to find anything else that seemed interesting) - so now it was his turn, and he would need to shut his whiny mouth if he wanted Kahira to remain patient and kind to him. Actually... too late. "I understand you're only insulting my father because you don't know any better," she sniffed, turning her chin to face him and equally turning up her nose, "but allow me to educate you. My father is highly educated, the best in his field, and the head of a company so large your tiny brain would wilt at the thought of running even a sixteenth of it. Simply because you can't comprehend the importance and intelligence of my family does not make us stupid - it makes you thicker than Flobberworm mucus." Her tone was sharp, and somewhat detached - those who had known her better would have seen the hurt the insult had wrought, as she had a tendency to pull away when these sort of negative emotions came to play, but to outsiders, she would have simply seemed to be seething with controlled fury. "I didn't make fun of your clothing - I would never deign to do such a thing. I simply commented on the fact that you need new ones, preferably chosen by someone with a better eye for the fashion of it all. And I sneezed twice in Flourish and Blotts while waiting for you to finish up with your incessant reading. Do you hear that? Twice!" The redhead shuddered. "A Valerian does not sneeze!" And as if that weren't enough, it was time to go in for the kill. An apology about her dad paled in comparison to the fact that he had refused to apologise for the rest. She narrowed dark eyes at him from her pedestal, shifting just enough for the seamstress to pin along her side without pricking her delicate skin. "Your words mean nothing to me," she hissed, "because you mean nothing. So you may take your haughty conceit and - and - and sod off!" She'd certainly hear an earful from her parents later if the whinging bloke decided to tattletale to his father, but in the moment, it felt wonderful. |
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@Jeremy Slater
| kahira valerian second gen | _____________________ | shop | ___________________ |
Begrudging Buys
Jeremy was not having a good day.
It was SUPPOSED to be a good day.
He had dreamed for YEARS of his first day going to Diagon Alley. Buying his books, getting his wand, his first school robes. Seeing Diagon Alley when he was old enough to really explore it, and when everything was going to be for HIM not his sister.
What he hadn’t imagined on that day was being poked by needles, being poked by mean words, and being forced to sit still for all of it.
This was his dad’s fault, for NEEDING to talk business on one of the most important days of his son’s life.
No, this was HER dad’s fault, for having to show up today.
Yes, Jer had had to sit still for all of it, for every last word, because there was nowhere that he could go. He had never spoken much to Kahira whenever he’d been at her house, though he’d always thought that Kahira didn’t seem to like him very much. He hadn’t thought much of it - maybe it could have been his fault too - it wasn’t like he had been trying to talk to her either in those days. But now that they WERE talking it was worse than he ever imagined. She didn’t just not like him…she hated him.
“Tiny brain…?” Jer repeated, feeling his fists clench. (The seamstress seemed to take this as the perfect opportunity to get some of the more difficult measurements since the boy had finally stopped squirming). If Jeremy knew one thing, it was that his brain wasn’t tiny. He wasn’t good at everything his family was, but there was one thing he could do, and that was think.
He hated being told that he didn’t know any better, and he certainly didn’t need somebody like Kahira to educate him. He rarely did things because he didn’t know better. Even when he and Jo had made those runes and he’d gotten grounded for a month, it wasn’t because he hadn’t known better. His dad had tried his best to use the ‘he didnt know better’ defense to his mother, though Jer had been quick to point out, insulted, that of COURSE he had!
It was bad enough being told that he didn’t know any better by grown-ups. To be told that by another kid? He had been around enough other kids (and seen enough grades at his pre-Hogwarts prep school) to know that yes he usually DID know better, and he was sure he knew better than Kahira because if he didn’t, she’d have known why what she was saying was just so wrong.
“I'm not stupid, you're the one that's allergic to books! And if your father’s so important, then how come he needs to come to MY father for ingredients? My father has a lot of people like your father. People that are SO important, but they couldn’t run their business without him, and there’s probably a lot more of 'your father's out there relying on him,” Jeremy said of his dad, with something resembling pride. It was strange because he rarely did feel all that proud of his Dad’s work. Still, that was between him and his Dad - not HER.
Jeremy’s fists were still clenched. Even after telling her off, he was still fuming. When had he ever BEEN so fuming? Jeremy wasn’t always good at knowing his own feelings, but this time the anger was so thick he could almost taste it. It was an anger usually only reserved for his own sister, never another kid, and unlike with his sister, his parents weren’t there to step in before he exploded. The frustration, the fury, it had to go SOMEWHERE. The feelings were too strong to stay inside, and the lump in his throat was getting bigger. There were really only two ways it could go. Number one, is he could cry. He wouldn’t do that, because that would make her think that her words had meant something to him. That he cared what she thought of him, and that they weren’t all lies. Number two, was that the anger could go into his words.
It’s possible that Jeremy might say some things that he would go on to regret, later that night, when tempers had cooled. Right now, though, that wasn’t even a thought in his mind. All he could think was that Kahira had said his brain was tiny, and that he meant nothing. And the only reason that mattered was because he could feel from the way she looked at him that she really believed it.
“Oh yeah? Well at least I don’t look like some old lady who got shrunk into the body of a little girl,” he said, thinking about her fancy perfect grown-up clothes which were starting to annoy him as much as the person inside it. “My mum picked these clothes and they’re just fine. And I don't mean nothing, I mean a LOT. My family just doesn’t think we have to stop sneezing so people think we’re better than everyone,” he said, though after he said it he couldn’t help crossing his arms sullenly.
It was SUPPOSED to be a good day.
He had dreamed for YEARS of his first day going to Diagon Alley. Buying his books, getting his wand, his first school robes. Seeing Diagon Alley when he was old enough to really explore it, and when everything was going to be for HIM not his sister.
What he hadn’t imagined on that day was being poked by needles, being poked by mean words, and being forced to sit still for all of it.
This was his dad’s fault, for NEEDING to talk business on one of the most important days of his son’s life.
No, this was HER dad’s fault, for having to show up today.
Yes, Jer had had to sit still for all of it, for every last word, because there was nowhere that he could go. He had never spoken much to Kahira whenever he’d been at her house, though he’d always thought that Kahira didn’t seem to like him very much. He hadn’t thought much of it - maybe it could have been his fault too - it wasn’t like he had been trying to talk to her either in those days. But now that they WERE talking it was worse than he ever imagined. She didn’t just not like him…she hated him.
“Tiny brain…?” Jer repeated, feeling his fists clench. (The seamstress seemed to take this as the perfect opportunity to get some of the more difficult measurements since the boy had finally stopped squirming). If Jeremy knew one thing, it was that his brain wasn’t tiny. He wasn’t good at everything his family was, but there was one thing he could do, and that was think.
He hated being told that he didn’t know any better, and he certainly didn’t need somebody like Kahira to educate him. He rarely did things because he didn’t know better. Even when he and Jo had made those runes and he’d gotten grounded for a month, it wasn’t because he hadn’t known better. His dad had tried his best to use the ‘he didnt know better’ defense to his mother, though Jer had been quick to point out, insulted, that of COURSE he had!
It was bad enough being told that he didn’t know any better by grown-ups. To be told that by another kid? He had been around enough other kids (and seen enough grades at his pre-Hogwarts prep school) to know that yes he usually DID know better, and he was sure he knew better than Kahira because if he didn’t, she’d have known why what she was saying was just so wrong.
“I'm not stupid, you're the one that's allergic to books! And if your father’s so important, then how come he needs to come to MY father for ingredients? My father has a lot of people like your father. People that are SO important, but they couldn’t run their business without him, and there’s probably a lot more of 'your father's out there relying on him,” Jeremy said of his dad, with something resembling pride. It was strange because he rarely did feel all that proud of his Dad’s work. Still, that was between him and his Dad - not HER.
Jeremy’s fists were still clenched. Even after telling her off, he was still fuming. When had he ever BEEN so fuming? Jeremy wasn’t always good at knowing his own feelings, but this time the anger was so thick he could almost taste it. It was an anger usually only reserved for his own sister, never another kid, and unlike with his sister, his parents weren’t there to step in before he exploded. The frustration, the fury, it had to go SOMEWHERE. The feelings were too strong to stay inside, and the lump in his throat was getting bigger. There were really only two ways it could go. Number one, is he could cry. He wouldn’t do that, because that would make her think that her words had meant something to him. That he cared what she thought of him, and that they weren’t all lies. Number two, was that the anger could go into his words.
It’s possible that Jeremy might say some things that he would go on to regret, later that night, when tempers had cooled. Right now, though, that wasn’t even a thought in his mind. All he could think was that Kahira had said his brain was tiny, and that he meant nothing. And the only reason that mattered was because he could feel from the way she looked at him that she really believed it.
“Oh yeah? Well at least I don’t look like some old lady who got shrunk into the body of a little girl,” he said, thinking about her fancy perfect grown-up clothes which were starting to annoy him as much as the person inside it. “My mum picked these clothes and they’re just fine. And I don't mean nothing, I mean a LOT. My family just doesn’t think we have to stop sneezing so people think we’re better than everyone,” he said, though after he said it he couldn’t help crossing his arms sullenly.