Not Good at Nice

Since she has no homework to do at the moment, and John's not around, and it would be a good thing to take a break from the gym every now and then, Aeryn leaves 239/240 and makes her way to the stairwell. Halfway down to the first floor, she takes a seat on the landing and pulls out several notes, mostly from John. All from John, actually.

She knows the letters now, and the sounds they make, and she's starting to learn how to string them all together to form actual words. She tries to get privacy for this sort of thing, just because she knows it has to sound strange to hear her reading aloud, and besides, this is personal. She thinks. She's not exactly sure, but she can make an educated guess.

English is a stupid language, it really is.