DEFEATISM

14

"So, did you photocopy an agenda?" Maverick asks, leaning in toward the table to get close to Benedict. He doesn't usually read the agenda in their weekly meetings, but he will hold his finger down on each number so that he knows what has passed.

"What?" Benedict furrows his brow. "No, I didn't... when would I have found the time to make an agenda?"

"How are we going to remember what we need to discuss without an agenda?" Galilee offers a polite smile to Maverick.

She enjoys the agendas, keeping them all in a binder in her room. Obviously, she doesn't need one this morning, the day before Christmas Eve, but Maverick's shoulders are slouched. Someone's got to have his back, to straighten up his spine. Maverick is sacrifice after sacrifice after sacrifice. He is an older brother. Galilee has his back, always and forever.

"Thanks, Gally," Maverick smiles.

"No agenda," Benedict repeats himself. The room has no windows. For a snowstorm, it feels hot. "There is only one issue on the table. Communication."

"And food," Darlington says.

He pulls his laptop out, writing a mock agenda. He's not going to print it or send it out, but he is going to have it, so they don't get sidetracked like they always do. Over the three years he has worked here, he has learned that they cannot do anything without an agenda, no matter the staff team, no matter the reason. This group is rambunctious on a good day. He thinks the word rambunctious like it's the gravest of insults.

"Benedict, I need an agenda," Marcellus smiles.

"We both know you've never read a goddamn agenda before," Ro rolls her eyes.

"It's never too late to learn," Marcellus sticks his tongue out at her, and she huffs.

Marcellus hides the hurt at her comment. She should know better. Ro, of all people, should know. Although, Ro is an engineer like him and Marcellus isn't surprised that she is as direct as she is. In simple circuits, the current directs most of its flow through the path of least resistance. A direct and easy route. Ro is wired like electronics. However, this fact doesn't hold true in a circuit which has the slightest bit of complexity. Marcellus had expected her to be complicated. Maybe he was wrong.

"Stop teasing me. What am I, Darlington of the day?" Benedict asks, interrupting Marcellus' thoughts. "Let's keep our heads together."

Darlington thinks that calling Benedict rambunctious would be the nicest thing he could say about the guy at this time.

Moonie leans forward, pressing the palms of their hands down against the table. Their nails aren't painted when it feels like they should be, "see, this is what happens when we don't have an agenda. We can never keep on track, it's just like that one time-"

"Let's focus, like Benedict says," Tempest shuffles in her seat.

These things always take longer than they need to take. It's difficult not to rock the boat, but she can tell everyone is on edge. In a storm, you shouldn't stay on deck if you can avoid it, let alone dangle over the rails. Tempest knows because it's in her name.

Unlike Tempest, Benedict has given up. He plopped down into his chair, ignoring the others. Every day he works with these people, he wonders why he wants to be a teacher. Working with the other resident assistants is like working with children, and Benedict does not like children all that much.

Jerry gives Benedict a pat on the shoulder. The touch jostles Benedict, which Jerry doesn't notice. Jerry gives Benedict a nod, firm and curt. Benedict reciprocates.