thedirtysouth commented on blueridgemod's post in blueridgeschool:

"I didn't do anything," Mackenzie shot back, slightly irritated. It had been a long day, and while she might enjoy getting under the younger girl's skin, she was getting tired of always being the bad guy. "You wandered into my space kid. Stop treating me like the bad guy here." She took a drag moodily from her cigarette, glowering slightly. She didn't know what had made her snap at the younger girl, but she didn't say anything else until the redhead had stopped wheezing and spoke again.

She was about to respond and say something about how parents could be stupid like that, when Tatum was suddenly interrogating her about her cut. She raised her unwounded eyebrow in question as the girl reached for her wand, wanting to make a bitchy remark about how she thought that Tatum wouldn’t touch her at all. She kept her mouth shut though, wondering where this would all go exactly. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t heal it herself, but it wouldn’t be terrible to be taken care of and pampered a bit.

“I got hit with some car shrapnel when I was in the parking lot,” she offered matter of factly. She shrugged, and took one last drag on her cigarette before stubbing it out and looking at the girl with interest. “I cast something to stop it from bleeding but I guess I was kind of more concerned about the injured people around me. It’s just a scratch, it’ll heal up alright on its own if I don’t heal it.”

She bit her lip, contemplating what to say next. The blonde had found that Tatum was extremely hard to talk to, which was something that confused Mackenzie. She never had trouble talking to girls before the redhead, but it seemed like every little thing that left the her mouth offended the other girl. She didn’t want to ruin this potential bonding moment by saying the wrong thing. Sighing, and pulling out another cigarette, she looked back at the other girl. “I wouldn’t object if you wanted to heal it,” She said softly, lighting the cigarette and puffing out a plume of smoke. She had charmed the cigarette packet so that the exhaled smoke would swirl into celestial shapes and fancy winding wisps. “I’m not trying to be a scum bag or anything,” She continued quickly, looking slightly panicked. “It…It’s just been a long day, and I guess a little TLC wouldn’t hurt. I promise not to be weird about it, or whatever. I can always heal it when I get back to my room and have a mirror.” She backpedaled, nervously tapping the ash from her cigarette.