...until now.
It's been over two months.
School is starting next week. It'll be my last year of high school. It had actually been a pretty great summer and I was excited to start my classes.
Now... not so much. After disappearing for like forever, this morning a certain mysterious, angsty teenager has stumbled back into my life again. This has brought up quite a few predicaments.
Even though I'm desperately hoping Jack is either in college now or goes to a different school than me, deep down I'm feeling uneasy that I might have to go to school with him. That would be a problem.
He stands in front of me with a tan from summer break and a pretty girl on his shoulder. He seems different. More relaxed. He chuckles lightly at something the girl said as he runs his hand through his untamed hair.
Seeing a smile on his face unnerves me. Everything about him unnerves me.
As soon as he turns his head and sees me, he becomes tense.
They approach the counter. I take a deep breath and do my best to calm myself.
I smile and nod toward him, "Hi, am I correct in assuming you'd like your coffee with one vanilla shot and no cream or sugar?"
He backs up slightly and brings his brows together "Wha- ...you still remember my order?" he asks, now raising his eyebrow and sporting an odd look of bewilderment on his face. That's weird. Jack doesn't get flustered.
"Well yeah" I respond, "...just part of the job," I offer with a weak smile. The look on his face- it quickly disappears.
I'm contemplating how I can further elaborate to make myself seem less creepy, but am soon stopped by the pretty girl next to him who rattles off her extremely specific frappe order to me.
I take down their orders, entering the information into the cash register, and ring up the bill.
"That'll be $9.23"
Jack fishes out his credit card from his wallet and is holding it out to me.
Our hands touch as I awkwardly have to stop him from handing it to me explaining, "Use the-- you have to slide your card using the scanner in front of you, right there," and I point to it on the counter, still blushing from the skin contact that occurred with the awkward brushing of our hands.
W-well... not just that, and from the embarrassing encounter in general.
I don't get flustered by skin contact. Nonetheless skin contact with him.
He makes an O shape with his mouth and proceeds to slide his credit card through the scanner and uses the stylus to provide his electronic signature.
It pops up on my screen and I almost smile.
So his name is Jack Summers. I mean, I can barely distinguish the letters as English, but I can tell them apart enough to know that his last name is Summers like I had thought.
"Okay, your order will be right up," I say, giving a slight smile and feeling a bit more relaxed.
Jack and the girl go sit down and I start making their coffee. I'm not trying to spy on them, but they are seated so close to the counter that I can overhear their conversation. It's not eavesdropping if they were the ones that chose to sit so close.
I wouldn't--I'm not listening on purpose.
I mean, why would I want, why would I care to know any of what Jack Summers has to say?
Anyway, it's kinda weird to hear Jack talk in phrases longer than three words.
"So, you said something about football tryouts? When do they happen?" the girl asks.
"Already did," he replies simply. She must've appeared puzzled by this because he decides to elaborate. "They have them at the end of the year so that the players know to train over summer break," he explains.
"Oh, cool! It's the same for cheerleading, but I didn't try out this year"
she pauses, then adds, "-and I hear it's the same for show choir and marching band as well."
Awkward silence.
"Why didn't you try out?"
"Oh, well I made varsity last year and being away from the relatively relaxed JV people made me realize how toxic it all can be. And it's nothing against the actual cheerleaders, it's the coaches that pit us against each other that bother me."
"Sounds competitive."
"It is," she sighs, continuing, "I mean, everything at our school seems to be these days. Every extracurricular activity is pushed to be the best and it's so hard to get in! I mean just think of all the high standards that we live up to: there's the speech team bringing home the all-state banner, the girls robotics team winning the state title every year, marching band advancing to nationals to perform, show choir always ending finals with a 7 foot tall trophy..."
She then abruptly detours to bring the focus back to Jack, adding on, "... and I can only imagine what it's like for sports!"
Okay.
That is definitely my school. That means Jack Summers goes to my school.
Oh boy.
"Yeah, football is pretty intense. Some days it's hard to not let the pressure of it all get to you. But most days I'm too busy to realize the crushing weight on my shoulders, so it works out all right," he jokes with a low chuckle and casual shrug of his shoulders.
Also, wait... he plays football?
I don't know exactly why, but this surprises me. I mean, I guess he's built like a football player. And now that I think about it, he could easily fit in with the popular crowd of jocks with his aggressive attitude and relatively dark demeanor.
Makes sense. The girls probably find his dark side mysterious and alluring. They probably get turned on by it. Gross.
Hopefully, they don't. I mean, most girls aren't that superficial. And the majority of them don't fit the stereotype desperate-for-popularity high schooler.
But many guys certainly did. Ugh, why did he have to live up to the stereotype?!
A jolt of realization comes to me as the coffee cup I'm filling has overflowed and the splashes of scalding hot liquid burn my hand and cause me to jerk away.
The paper coffee cup drops to the floor and bounces loudly, I flinch with each bounce. I realize the commotion I've made, and my cheeks burn in embarrassment as everyone's attention is on me.
The cafe seems completely silent, except for the sound of the coffee cup that's now rolling on the floor.
"Hey, Spencer!" Jack shouts at me, breaking the silence.
I look up. He has a slightly amused, extremely smug, look on his face.
"I know it's your last name and all, but maybe you should try to stop hasting so much!" he jokes with a wide grin on his face.
He is laughing, the pretty girl next to him is laughing, and the other customers in the cafe laugh as well. My cheeks must be redder than the burns on my hands. How could they laugh? How do they not see this as bullying? Wha- ... oh no.
You'd think that with that goofy grin on his face, along with his presentation of the pun, that we were friends. He made them think we were friends. That I, Spencer Hastings, was friends with the devil incarnate, Jack Summers. My face turns an even darker shade of red, not out of embarrassment, but out of anger.
I will never be friends with Jack Summers.
In fact,
I think as I retrieve the coffee cup from the ground,
... I despise Jack Summers.
----
AN:
This is my longest chapter so far. What do you think?
I have the majority of this book either written or planned out so I don't think that this will be even close to the longest chapter overall from the looks of things, but I might make chapters shorter or longer depending upon what people (AKA YOU) like best.
So in general, do you prefer shorter or longer chapters?
To give some perspective, this chapter was about 1,200 words
Short would be less than 1,000
Medium would be about 2,000
Long would prob be 3,000+
Let me know! Also have a lovely day:)
Love,
Leah