How Green Becomes Wood

"I think you should go for the big one. But it's harder to swing that if you only show up your last year," She clarified, but then shook her head, sitting back, "I don't actually know what I'm talking about. I don't have any desires for 'the throne' and don't know how people win it. But you like being around people and making friends, and you like sparkly clothes, so making friends who vote for you to have a sparkly crown makes sense." She looked at Xander, "I think with my genetics I'm more likely to be an evil dance mom."
 
Xander snorted. "Yeah right. Not going to happen. I see you going full goth first."

Alec smiled and touched Sloan's arm. "You are a kind person and not at all likely to be either an evil advisor or evil dance mom."
 
"I appreciate that," Sloan said with a little grin, "I bet it'd make my mom really happy if I got one of those northface puffy vest jackets and started carrying around a stanley cup to match my outfits. Although I'd at least have a reason to carry around one of those cups, because I'm a gymnast."
 
"I don't get Stanley cups," Peter remarked. "They're just... cups. What's the big deal? I heard not to long ago, some guy actually tried to steal a small box of them from a Target Starbucks."

"It's a random item people have chosen to assign value to, and it'll be interesting if we get a tulip bubble from it all," Xander remarked.
 
"Every few years a new cup becomes the 'it' cup and I don't understand why." Sloan told them, "The best one is always the most expensive one, and then when other brands sell cheaper versions that look and behave about the same, some new brand releases some new cup design that people must have, and it's all a status symbol."
 
"Now that is a ridiculously arbitrary status symbol," Peter snorted.

"I thought all rich people had status symbols?" Alec asked curiously.

Peter shrugged. "Sure, but it's never tied to the latest and greatest. It's usually tied to really, really old stuff and rarely flexed. It's not like carrying around a cup."
 
"I don't know about that. Have you seen rich people fashion? Like, really rich?" Sloan asked, "I've looked on the Balenciaga website. It's not priced for middle class people who want to look rich. As long as it's got a brand name on it, really really rich people want it. I mean, so do middle class people. But middle class people really really want to look really really rich. You know? Not everybody with money are lorded gentry, people make money off of tech and suddenly they're dressing in expensive branded clothes that look worse than the clothes Goodwill doesn't accept."
 
Peter chuckled softly. "Those are not the really rich. Those are the flashy new-comers, and, yeah, even the 'lorded gentry' can have bad taste, but they aren't going to pay for it. I've got a cousin who has more money currently sitting in his safe at home than I bet the entire school faculty has in their banks right now, and he actually does shop at thrift stores. I heard his mother talking to mine, and she sounded about ready to cry in despair because he's also valedictorian and refuses to dress the part even at school."

"Are they at least comfortable clothes?" Alec asked.

"He says they are, yes."

"Well, at least he's happy."
 
"I dunno, Elon Musk is a billionaire and he sent his car to space, so I think even if you are super rich, we can't pretend like all really rich people are just so humble and subtle about their wealth," Sloan pointed out, "I know that it's the common perception that they're subtle about it, but like... If you have a private jet, you aren't subtle, and I'd be shocked if the average really rich person doesn't buy Prada sunglasses over a twenty-dollar pair. I don't know, I feel like it's sort of... classist to act like the truly rich just 'know better' about money than then the poors who have a little more to spend than they did before. I'm not saying you're doing that, but nobody's going to say Kanye West and the Kardashians aren't rich, but they flaunt their money, and it's weird to say they're 'not really rich,' when they have more money than most people will ever see: and I'm saying that as someone whose parents can afford gymnastics and an in-ground pool."
 
"Mmm," Peter looked at Sloan for a bit as if he was considering saying something and then decided against it. "Bottom line, people are people, and it depends on how you were taught to handle things. Anyway, don't you have a gymnastic meet coming up soon?"

"I didn't realize Peter's family was that rich," Alec murmured to Xander. "Rich, sure, but not rich enough to talk like that."

Xander shrugged. "I guess the 'really rich' don't talk about it because then people can't ask them for money, and that's how they actually keep their wealth," he muttered back. "My best guess."
 
Sloan resisted the urge to point out the newly wealthy at least worked for their money, but it wasn't worth it. Especially not when the newly rich also weren't exactly ethical paragons and her family wasn't impoverished, either. They weren't that rich, though. Comparatively. "Yeah. I'm pretty psyched about it. I've really been training hard for it."
 
"What time is it? I think perhaps I could attend that," Peter asked.

Alec clapped his hands. "Yes! That would be so much fun if we could all go together! A much smaller scale party." He paused. "Oh, unless you are planning to do something with your teammates instead?"
 
"I'm there pretty early, but I think we compete at around 2? I'll double check that... It's a whole thing because all the teams in my age group have to cycle through all of the stations and we stay there until everyone has gone, so it can be pretty long." Sloan explained, trying to explain the complicated nature of a gymnastics meet, "It's on a Sunday, so we're not really planning to do anything after. But I'll be exhausted. We can go out to eat or something, but anything more than that I won't be capable of."
 
"So, show up at 2 and expect to be there for a long time," Alec said, writing it down on a napkin. "If you're going to be that tired, we obviously don't have to do anything, but we could bring you a pizza, if you like, or take you to pizza. Or something small. Whatever is best for you. If all you want to do is go home and crash, I can respect that."
 
"I wouldn't want to eat in the venue, it smells like sweat and I'll have been there all day. We can go out to pizza afterwards. I may not be in school on Monday depending on how things go, but besides that it shouldn't be too hard."
 
"That's fair," Alec agreed. "Pizza it is! Or burgers, tacos, literally whatever you want. Right, Xander?"

"Huh?" Xander looked up from his phone. "Sure, sounds good. Burgers or tacos." He looked down at his phone again.
 
"He's been browsing car ads since the second he knew he was close to being able to afford an old junker," Alec sighed.

"Not a junker, just used," Xander grumbled, eyes still on the phone. "Used is cheaper. Even if I gotta do fixes."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Anyway, he's been keeping his eye out for a good deal. I don't see it happening any time soon, but what do I know about cars?"
 
"My car was used. They're really not as bad as some people make them out to be, if you go to the right place. I can tell you the dealership I got mine from, if you like," Sloan offered. "I didn't realize you were so close to getting one of your own."
 
"Sure, that'd be great," Xander agreed. "I still need a bit more, but if I got a really good deal, I could swing it."

Alec clicked his tongue. "Are you sure about this car thing? I mean, really? There are some crazy drivers out there."

"I know how to drive, and Da even lets me sometimes. We're still alive, aren't we?" Xander pointed out dryly. "If you want me to give you rides to places like cry wheel training, then you can either help pay for it or stop complaining."

Alec pouted but nodded. "I'll stop complaining. And it's cyr wheel!"

"I know."

Peter waved his hand to get their attention. "Lunch is almost over, you two. Ready for more cramming of knowledge?"
 
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