The Thing About Flip Flops

Chapter Thirteen: Mutual Free-Insult Passes

I jerk my book away and scoot further from him. "Go away. You're working, aren't you?"

"See any customers in here other than you? Plus, I thought I didn't work here," he mocks, grinning. Then, he says, "I have no other tables. I've got nothing better to do. And plus, we're friends, so you have to talk to me."

"Fuck off."

"Fine." He gets up. Before he leaves, he tells me, "I've worked here since early fall."

Oh. I get it now. He must have taken over Genevieve's job. The idea of that makes me angry, and I look down at my tea, suddenly not wanting it.

Jack leaves.

I sketch out the teapot and cup, drinking only enough tea to keep me awake and caffeinated through the sleepy, quiet music coming through the speakers.

Sketching the teacup makes me notice the small details about it, like the little brushstrokes that painted the roses and the chipped edge of the rim. I should do studies like this more often. It might be more interesting than I thought.

I begin the watercolor portion of the drawing using my travel watercolors. I don't realize Jack is watching me until he says in a surprised tone, "That's... really good."

I'm so surprised and startled that I jerk my hand to the side, spilling a drip or two of tea on my paper.

"Hey!" I complain, wiping it off quickly with my finger. "You made me mess up!"

He looks concerned for a second. "Shit. Sorry," he apologizes.

"Whatever." I put my arm over my drawing in an attempt to hide it from his view. For some reason, I've always been quite shy about showing stuff like this to people, especially if I don't really know them very well.

"I brought you Oreos."

I notice the packaging in his hands.

"Thanks..." I say, a little confused. Why is he being so nice to me?

"Can I sit down?"

I nod, letting him sit beside me.

He opens the pack and puts it between us, shrugging and saying, "I had extras anyway."

We eat the cookies for a while in silence.

"Your painting is really good. How long have you done art?"

I regard him, confusion in my eyes. "You like it?"

He chuckles, splitting an Oreo apart, eating the cream out, then eating the cookies separately. I have a bizarre desire to laugh. Wouldn't expect that from the edgy loner of the school.

"Why? Do you find that so hard to believe?"

I shrug, not really giving him an answer. The truth is, I sort of do find it hard to believe. He's not generally thought of as the kind of person to appreciate art unless he's punching it in the face.

"Are you any good at painting?" I ask, curious.

He chuckles. "No, I suck. But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate it."

It's quiet for a moment. I take a sip of tea and look out the window. The pedestrians are walking by this building down on the street, shopping and laughing. They don't know about the little cafe on the second floor. It gives me a calming feeling. I've gotta come here more often.

I turn back to look at Jack.

"You're not acting like usual," I comment.

He quirks a smile. "Oh yeah? Why not?"

"I don't know. You're being so nice."

Jack runs a hand through his hair. "And me being nice is not normal?"

I shrug apologetically. "I guess..." I trail off.

"Look. This may come as a surprise to you, but I don't do drugs. I don't smoke. I get in fights, yeah. Guess I can't work my way out of that one. Too many shitty people in the world, you know?" He pauses, trying to look at the painting. I shift my arm slightly so he can see it better. "But it's hard sometimes, especially with the reputation, to be myself," he continues. "I don't know why I'm even telling you this. I barely know you."

I offer him another Oreo. "I thought we're friends."

"Aha! You finally admitted it!" He grins, shaking his head. "I knew you would. But, listen... if friends tell each other the truth, here you go. I'm not what people say I'm like. I really try not to be, but sometimes people just don't care enough to pay attention, and so they just stick to what they assume."

"Well," I tell him, "Friends don't assume."

Jack sticks out a hand for me to shake, laughing lightly. "We're good, then? I get a free-insult pass?"

I laugh. "Yeah. Sure. But same goes for you, okay, shit-face?"

"Mutual free-insult passes. Deal." He rolls his eyes and I shake his hand.

What have I gotten myself into this time...