Oh boy, what shenanigans this crew can pull at University...
I will be staying tuned. 
Yeah, I can't say that the Waverlys are really studious. That doesn't make for good screenshots.
This is just wonderfully written and completely absorbing.
Hi new reader! Thanks for the nice comment.
Somehow I feel that these mature students are not going to live up to their name... 
Not an unfounded feeling.
University, watch out! The Waverleys are there! hehehehe, this should be very good XD
Controlling five students means something good has to arise just by sheer chance.
Ha ha this is going to be awesome! I can't wait to see what they get up to. Happy birthday to Lily, she looks like she may be a daddy's girl.
She's still a daddy's girl in her old age! I catch her and Franco talking a lot and they've always had a very high relationship. She and Pansy got along, but poor Pansy never seemed close with anyone.
Hurrah for excursions to university! Here's hoping they all do well!
Well, it took me long enough to realise there was a story attached to the beautiful banner in your signature! 
Ah yes, I understand the feeling.
Aww, and I thought the banner was going to be an ingenious way to market my dynasty.
I'm seeing some major juice-parties in the Waverly's futrure: Annette, juiced out of her mind, making inappropriate comments way too loudly, Julian tripping on some herbs quietly painting, while Franco and Hannah make out in a corner like teens. Lilly's adorable. Thank god she's home safe while the rest of the family goes crazy.
The first one is true no matter where they are! The Waverlys all eventually became rather habitual drinkers, but Annette's easy to write as a party-hard-juice-harder type. In fact, I have this gem from an earlier attempt with Annette. Juice was always her thing:
The other statements might not be so true, though.
Lily is indeed adorable, but taking care of the five at uni was enough without adding her to the mix.
Chapter 32: Julian at the Podium
It was largely Julian’s story.
His assignment was to create a radio show. He spent the whole night writing a proposal about a cerebral talk show focused on the arts and modern culture. He double-checked the margins’ width and the font he used, and handed a multi-page, well-argued proposal only for it to be laughed down in a matter of seconds.
“Listen, Bull, very few people around here will listen to that,” his professor said, “You gotta enter journalism with sharp arguments before you get all smart on the public.”
He had to sit through a whole class after that, nervously taking notes.
Julian came home from class and crashed in bed immediately, after deleting his copy of the proposal from the computer. He then got up just as immediately when he realized that the sheets were unwashed, and ran into a swimsuit-clad Annette.
“I’m going to need this detergent for my brain too,” he muttered as he poured the white powder into the washing machine.
“Can’t a lady enjoy herself?” Annette asked, with a hand on her hip, “Get your speedo on. Didn’t I tell you about the party?”
Julian groaned. “Don’t you have homework?” he asked Annette, “Kind of a crummy time for a party.”
“I paid Ms. Noetal with a whole brick of simoleons. What is homework?”
While he didn’t warm up to the party, he warmed up at it, poking the bonfire. Annette offered Julian some juice just before hand, just enough to loosen his inhibitions. However, all the juice in the keg wouldn’t wipe the scowl off Pansy’s face.
That was the hot tub’s job.
Pansy relaxed in the hot tub, even with the closest person to an enemy sitting at the other end, letting the hot water ease away all of the day’s gruesome experiences of live dissection and lectures on special cases in psychology. Such was the path Hannah chose. The college of Science and Medicine sent her everything; extra scholarships, extra credits, free keychains and a unisex t-shirt in the wrong size.
“Prof. talked about love today,” said Hannah, as she leaned back against the jets, “Well, the sociology of it. Compassionate versus passionate. Compassionate love is respect and trust, while passionate is about emotion, affection, woohoo. I always wonder what I feel.” Pansy gave her a death glare.
“Geez, let it go,” said Hannah, “You got your ring smelted into a snazzy charm for a bracelet, and you still think that I’m after the man you don’t have.”
“Shut up,” Pansy muttered, “I’m basically over it, but the more you rub your victory in my face, the less I can actually get over it.”
“Who says it’s about him?” Hannah inquisitively looked at her pruning skin. “I learned about why your skin prunes yesterday. Wanna hear it? Or the case of some insane man who thought that he was watcher-appointed and in the midst of a war against Reapers or aliens? I like learning new things.”
“I’m good,” Pansy turned towards Julian, who jumped in his seat as a jet suddenly came on right in back of him. “Listen, Julian, I don’t think you want to hear to two ladies squabble over love.”
“It’s the house I was born into,” he said.
“Yeah, but maybe you can get to know someone else.”
He ended up having a conversation with Manisha, one of Hannah’s sociology classmates. “I can’t,” she said, “No matter how good you look in that speedo, I have a boyfriend.”
“I just asked you about campus events,” he said.
“Sorry. Kind of mad. My roomie’s protest got cancelled for being anti-government. I guess that’s a campus happening. I bet everyone is at the park right now waiting for him.”
“That’s...cool. How could I start one?” Julian said, with a stutter.
“Yell really loudly about something when people are around,” Manisha said, “Trust me, it always works around here.”
“I don’t know, it’s getting late,” said Julian. Then he heard Annette from across the yard.
“It’s just a plant? What’s the worst that could happen?” she said, then chewing on a sprig of what was hopefully just peppermint.
“I’m going to start a protest,” said Julian.
He ended up carpooling with Pansy and Franco, who offered support in case Julian had a breakdown or severe stage fright. None of them bothered to change out of their swimsuits; nothing made a statement like some skin. Franco ended up driving. Julian was too busy biting his nails down to the quick as the juice wore off. He saw the crowd gathered in the park and nearly fainted.
“Holy crap, this is a horrible idea,” he whispered.
“Look, I’ll get you out of there once any trouble happens,” said Franco, placing a reassuring hand on Julian’s shoulder, “Until the police get involved.”
“And I, for one, will stick around when the police come,” said Pansy, “A true friend looks out for you no matter what.”
A rough, wooden podium plastered in anti-government signs and slogans was already set up for the canceled protest. Julian couldn’t care less about the issue, but he brought no signs. He brought no issue either. He walked up to the podium speechless.
“Look, I have homework to do tonight,” he said, meaning to just address his friends, but accidentally speaking into the mic.
“Yeah, but we have to complain first!” said a voice from the crowd. People were already waving signs. Some were anti-government, but apparently those protests attracted many students with different issues. One sign against expensive textbooks, another against a lack of counseling and quality campus healthcare. How could he tackle so many issues? Maybe Franco was a better speaker.
Hopefully a better speaker than a guitar player. His untuned strumming attracted only Pansy, and even then, out of bile fascination.
"Guys?" Julian asked them, with no response. He stood at the podium with no support and the flimsiest of ideas to start a protest about.
Julian started going off the signs.
“Did you know that my mum had to set aside a whole trust fund for me to go here? And that still wasn’t enough! Down with tuition raises!” He spoke directly into the mic and was greeted with a loud cheer, considering that no one knew that he was filthy rich. “Which are part of the establishment!” More cheering.
He never thought it would happen, but his words drew a crowd. Soon, he felt as uninhibited as if he drank all the juice in the keg.
“And you know what? I want the administration to listen to student government, dangit! Voices for all of us!” Everyone started to go crazy for Julian, even if he was backed by bribe money and a a family with quite a voice.
“Better dining hall food!” even though he ate Annette’s superb cooking at home. “Relaxed party laws!” even if he detested parties. “Legalize restricted herbs!” he actually had no opinion either way, and thought they tasted too harsh to use. And his peers ate it up.
He kept going with that strategy.
It got him accolades in the morning, and a good word from his professor later that day in class. “That’s the gripping stuff I’m talking about! Reporting it, doing it, whatever. You gotta get attention and you sure as hell did last night, Bull.”
Julian even inspired a copy-cat. No one wanted to listen to Franco’s rants about the scourge of clashing colors and casual outfits, though.
Franco found other ways to make statements instead. A few of his classmates liked his public art, and the bonus on his quiz might have resulted from it. He escaped after the initial arrest; Annette threw another brick of simoleons into the police cruiser, quietly saying “and that never happened.” The policewoman nodded.
Thanks to the bribery, Annette led a pretty relaxed university life. Because money could buy her free grades, she focused her loads of free time on helping Hannah de-stress after a lab.
The sociology class stuck with Hannah, though, mostly the lecture about love. It gave her a good basis for her to reflect and realize that she felt both and had neither reciprocated. As she smoothed the wrinkles in her face with foundation, she fought with herself over if she had to focus on love while there was still time, or if she was just too old to care about such things. It took her only until she finished applying her seductive red lipstick to make a choice.
The first one, of course. Franco never received a letter. Not on his desk, or in his pocket, or left under the pillow. Not hidden in his sketchbook or street art carrying bag, or even in the mailbox.
But perhaps, he didn’t need a letter.
Word Count for this chapter:
1,479Word Count so far:
41,453
