<em>James O'Neil Jr. - Tuesday, 4th of September, 2012, 6:52 - Cafeteria w/ Helen Posten (open)</em><br/><br/>James took up the milk bottle with a small grin. He had always been big enough to stay out of Mr. Baker's bad side, as well as reasonably good with math. He was the typical average student, who could end up being very smart if he wanted to, and applied himself. But he wasn't much for applying himself to school. He got and average of B's all around, and was good enough at everything to avoid being selected to be taken off of privileges like sports, and never good enough to be appointed as the 'star' of his class. He was average, and liked it. In school, anyway. In everything else, he pressed and tried and overcame to be, if not the best, than among the best anyway. He was a master at parkour, capoeira too. He even was trying his hand at cooking, even if Mick was the only one that would taste his food, since he only cooked when both parents were out, and the kid would have eat mud cakes, and declared them worthy of a French chef.<br/><br/>James lifted his elbow, and calculated the distance from the table at which he sat to the trash, and snapped his fore arm upwards, underthrowing the bottle. It sailed through the air, twirling crazily as it did so, before taking a more downward trajectory, and clashing into the can. He smiled, and raised an arm in the air, feigning a roar of the crowd, which admittedly sounded a bit more like something that would come out of a zombie than a hundred or so fans. He chuckled a bit, and turned back to the problem at hand," Mr. Baker is an ass, but he is a smart ass," He nodded, not realizing until a few seconds later that something resembling a pun was there," Avoid trouble, and report him if he gets too abusive. Better, call me, and I will have a couple words with him," He grinned. It wasn't likely that he would intimidate a but if she asked him to, he would do his damnedest, even though it would probably get him suspended.