"Always grab your tray from here because these ones have been touched by the least amount of hands," Jack instructs.
He hands Max a tray.
Everything he's telling him- it's all complete bull, but it's cute that he's trying.
No.
Bad Spencer.
Stop reinforcing society's low expectations for men. Basic human decency should be expected from everyone, it's not something 'cute' for a guy to do once in awhile and have everyone around them swoon over, like what happens all the time with Jack.
N-not that I'm swooning, but the girls at our school certainly are.
Oh, don't be so foolish as to think that I haven't noticed their little discussions when he's passing them in the hallways... or sitting nearby... or not even there.
It's weird. They all talk about how nice and respectful he is??
Like, what? Who?
At first, I thought there was no possible way they could be talking about Jack, my Jack.
But they were. I guess I could kind of see it. He doesn't degrade women or use racist and homophobic slurs. So, I guess he's better than half of the male population at school. But that doesn't make him cute.
His pouted lips and furrowed brow with that scrunched up 'concentration' face is what makes him cute.
Spencer- no. Bad Spencer.
I hastily try to focus on my surroundings and distract myself from those thoughts I should not be having.
Jack's explaining how to determine whether or not a carton of milk has gone sour to Max when he suddenly stops him from walking toward the food.
"Wait a minute, buddy. This is crucial stuff to know," Jack says with sincerity.
I honestly can't tell whether he's joking or not. Jack's always making me confused. I hate it.
"Before you decide what line to get into, let me tell you how to avoid a stale or cold lunch. If you see that only a few of something is left, like the burgers over there, let people go ahead of you and pretend to have a temporary sudden craving for nachos instead that's making you hesitate. Within 10-30 seconds, a new tray full of hot hamburgers will be placed right in front of you and you decide that nachos are nacho thing anymore." Jack laughs at his own joke and Max lets out a small chuckle.
I even feel my lips twitch into a smile. What can I say? I'm a sucker for crappy puns.
He gestures to the screen displaying the day's lunch menu.
"So there's your 3 options for lunch." He sends a mysterious smile Max's way. "Pick your poison."
Max's cheeks turn red. "Um, I think I'll get the corndog," Max utters quietly.
"Not bad, not bad. I think I'll get that one too."
I follow them down to the corndog line, picking up a tray and silverware, even though I hate corndogs.
Even though I actually have my own packed lunch in my bag that has food I do like. I'll just eat it during my third block. That's when I have trig, which shouldn't be too strict on eating policies due to the fact that I have that class with Mr. Vanark, who is known for being really chill.
We're walking down through the line when Max reaches to scoop up some corn and Jack slaps his hand, causing him to drop the spoon into the tub of corn.
Jack wags his finger, "Never get the school's corn. Unless you enjoy spending an extensive amount of time in the toilet."
I mutter under my breath, "Sounds kinky," causing Jack to cough loudly, choking on his spit.
When he turns to head toward the checkout, I notice how he's visibly flustered. His cheeks are splotched with red and his eyes are slightly watery due to his coughing.
Jack Summers is flustered.
What world am I in? Jack Summers is never flustered.
Well, he is now.
Did I do that? Hm. I don't know... but I do know that the cool one isn't so cool now, is he? I can't control it when a smirk forms on my face.
I go through the checkout, the lunch lady looking at me funny because I always bring my own lunch and have never bought a school lunch. She asks me if I'm new and I glance around nervously to see if Jack or Max heard her question. They are out of earshot, to my relief. I simply shake my head no and hurry away to avoid any follow-up questions that would expose my secret.
I see Max quickly scurry over to the table, choosing to occupy the only chair facing away from the rest of the lunchroom. Opposite him, up against the wall, is the plastic booth seating that has our school logo plastered on it.
Jack, who has now appeared next to me, appears to have noticed this as well and we both look around desperately for a spare chair to pull up to the table. This is because the booths aren't exactly meant to hold more than one person comfortably.
When we fail to find any other chairs to use, (damn our overpopulated school) we set down our trays next to each other and shuffle into the cold plastic booth. The small square table barely lets us fit all of our trays on it. Jack and I turn ours diagonally because when we try to fit them horizontally next to each other they stick out over the sides of the table.
After staring at the unappetizing meal in front of me, I decide I should probably ask some of the prepared questions because I've been allowing Jack to take over too much.
"So, Max, what's your favorite subject?" I try to send him a comforting smile.
He shrugs his shoulders. "Math is okay I guess."
"Oh, cool! Anything in particular that you like about it?" I ask, trying to get more than five words out of him.
"Um, I like that you don't have to talk to people..."
He looks up and I give him a face, hopefully egging him on.
He continues, "...and numbers are easier to understand than like for instance people. With math, nobody gets hurt. When there's a problem, there's always a solution out there somewhere. It's not like that in the real world."
An awkward silence falls over the table.
Jack clears his throat. "That's deep, man."
"Yeah," I agree, then suddenly a thought pops into my head and I become worried, "...is everything alright?"
Max looks like a deer caught in headlights. He begins to backtrack, "I-I didn't mean to-"
"-Hey," Jack interrupts, laying a comforting hand over Max's fidgeting one. "It's okay, you can tell us...you can trust us."
I have to admit, this shocks me. Since when did Jack become a good person?
When Max still doesn't look convinced, he continues, "We're here to help you, alright?"
Max seems to relax at that. He looks around a bit then leans in and whispers, "Okay. Just not here, alright?"
I give him a reassuring smile, "Okay, we'll meet up sometime after school."
Jack says, "I have football stuff after school the next couple days but I'm free today."
"Where should we meet up?" I ask.
Max replies, "I don't care, just not my house."
"Hm, how about the Cafe then?" Jack suggests.
I give a tight-lipped smile, trying to not let Jack get on my nerves. "Sure."
"So... you play football?" Max inquires Jack with enthusiasm.
"Yeah, I do," Jack says with a satisfied smirk.
Just like that, my shock with Jack is over.
They ramble on about football as I study my tiny paper cup filled with ketchup. When I realize that I've been tediously pulling it apart, I try to convince myself that it's because I'm inspecting the mechanisms that fold the circle paper into a cup, but I know I'm just avoiding the truth.
I'm jealous of Jack and Max. They made this connection over football and even though I'm moderately educated in the subject, I'm nothing compared to Jack, an actual football player.
Also, I guess I don't feel that special anymore. Like, my connection over Tesla with Jack this morning meant nothing. He's just so well rounded that he can make connections with anybody. I don't know why this makes me angry, but it does.
Jack sits up and leans over the table, stretching to reach his milk carton placed on the far end of his tray. I catch myself staring when his shirt rises, exposing the muscles of his lower back and I hastily pull my eyes away and go back to inspecting my ketchup.
Jack then goes to sit back down and in the process, elbows me in the face. His open milk carton catapults toward me and the ketchup falls out my hand face down onto my lap.
A string of curses leaves both of our mouths.
The milk carton lands on the edge of the table on its side, pouring a steady stream of liquid onto my lap.
Max is now running to grab napkins and Jack is attempting to wipe the ketchup from my pants and soak up the pool of milk the has collected on my crotch. He's not able to do much with the two napkins, but he's trying his best and in the process making me extremely flustered and uncomfortable. He hasn't seemed to notice the awkwardness of this situation yet, but he does notice me squirming.
He tightens his grip on my thighs, "Don't. Move. You squirming is just going to make the stain worse."
I've stopped moving now. Well... except for part of me that's deciding to make my pants feel particularly tight at the moment.
Max shows up with an overflowing pile of napkins in his arms. I immediately jerk away from Jack's hold on me and snatch the napkins before he can, saying, "I'll take it from here," and muttering a quick 'thanks' to Max before rushing off to the bathroom.
When I reach the bathroom sink I heave a deep sigh and splash my face with cold water before getting to work on my pants.
Once I'm semi-satisfied with the state of my crotch, I splash my face my cold water once more, reminding myself,
No. Bad Spencer.
-----
AN:
If you really read into things, this chapter is quite dirty. If you don't read into things... well, this chapter is probably quite boring.
I'm having a tough time deciding how I want Jack to act around Spencer so this chapter was particularly hard for me to write.
But... here it is!!! Sexual tension and all!
Let me know what you think Max is going to reveal that he didn't want to talk about at school
Also... what do you think about Jack? Do you hate him as much as Spencer does?
Love,
Leah