Plexiglass (On Hold)

XVIII - No

Jamie's new fashion statement wasn't catching on.

Jason refused to sit at the same table as "Flake Master Jamie," as he likes to call his supposed-to-be basketball coach.

The nerds were even cracking jokes about the mismatched outfits that were the OOTDs of Jamie's childhood.

My mom wasn't mad like I thought she was going to be since I've been avoiding serious talks with her.

We even apologized to one another.

The only thing that I wasn't happy about: Jamie's spirit may have wavered, but it was still intact.

Is it bad that I want it to break?

"Trouble in paradise?" I smiled as I sat down.

Jamie and Quinn were opposite each other – like they usually are – but they weren't holding hands across the table or acting in the lovey-dovey way that makes me want to vomit.

"I broke up with him, okay?" Quinn responded with a high-pitched squeal.

My eyebrows rose as if I didn't know the truth.

I turned to Jamie and chuckled, "How's it feel to be dumped three times in a matter of months?"

Jamie glared at his most recent ex-girlfriend before speaking to me sarcastically,

"Feels great, thanks for asking."

I smiled and leaned on the table with my left arm as our lunch table's chairs began to be occupied.

Looking over to the stringy haired monster I asked, "What are you still doing here?"

"Sitting, obviously." Quinn answered with her face all scrunched up.

"No underclassman allowed." I smirked.

"Wha-?"

"You aren't dating Jamie anymore, so you have to go."

"Phoe-" Jamie started.

I put my hand up in his face right before Quinn responded,

"You let Jason sit here!"
Lunch trays slammed against the blue surface as Chris, Shawn, and Jackson sat down.

Anton was right behind them.

The laughing between the four guys ceased once they noticed that even though Jason had given up a seat at the table, every chair was taken.

"It's okay. I can sit somewhere else..." Anton said standing.

"No, you can sit here." I told Anton, "Quinn was just leaving."

Quinn's mouth opened and closed like she was gasping for oxygen.

Anton took one look at her and said, "That's okay, really."

He started to back up.

"No. Quinn up. Anton sit." I demanded.

His nice guy attitude is seriously pissing me off.

"You heard him. He doesn't want to sit here." Quinn stated with her arms crossed.

My eyes flickered and I slammed my hands against the table and stood up, speaking loud enough so that everyone could hear me,

"Anyone who'd prefer for Quinn to sit here rather than Anton, say I."

...

Crickets.