<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Making Amends</strong></span></div><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/AszzIQy.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Wyatt Gallo<br/><strong>Sortment:</strong>Postgrad<br/><strong>Date and Time:</strong>October 5th, 12:00 noon<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Counselor Stone's office<br/><strong>Mood:</strong>slight sheepish but encouraged to get some tips that may help his writing.<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Alexandra Stone -<em><strong>closed</strong></em><hr/><br/>Wyatt had really made a fool of himself. And normally he didn't really notice or worry about such things. He had been making a fool of himself for so long he probably had enough credits for a double major. But this was different. Usually he was just awkward around his peers and fellow students. This was a college administrator and he had it ground into him from a very young age that respect was given to those in authority. He just hoped Mrs. Stone would forgive him and still offer to help.<br/><br/>The drink offer had thrown him though. Surely she didn't offer students alcohol? Not that he was really 'up' on any kind of appropriate rules of etiquette of contemporary university staffing. If and when that became a subject for study or the topic of a concern is one of his novels then he would surely look into it further.<br/><br/>Having just come from a marathon of classes he hoped his appearance wasn't too disheveled. Cleanliness was something he prided himself on, for the routine and convenience of not being looked upon as smelly if nothing else. He often wore a shirt and tie and perhaps a sweater vest. But his first class, Classic Greek Literature, had a professor who seemed to always be suffering from one ailment or another and liked to keep the room quite warm and humid... for his health. So the day started with just a tee-shirt (that had been given to him by an undergrad friend who said it looked like him), jeans, and a blazer.<br/><br/>Wyatt slung his leather satchel off from across his shoulders as he headed down the hallway towards Miss Stone's office.<em>Third on the left.</em>He looked down to the pen marks on his hand and chanted it in his head, quite habitually. Once there, he ran a hand through his hair and stood up straight before knocking.