charming & irresponsible

Jamie dropped to the ground and sat back against the trunk of his favorite oak tree. It was still early in the morning, and the grass was wet with dew. He welcomed the cool, damp earth; he was burning up from the run. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he glanced over to the edge of the lake where Cal was catching up. They had run their usual course: around the pitch, along the edge of the forest, and ending near the lake, under the tree where Jamie sat.

"Told ya I’d win! I knew you couldn’t beat this lean machine,” he called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. Truthfully, Jamie hadn’t been so sure that he’d win. His head was pounding from last night -- what the hell even happened? He couldn’t be entirely sure. All he really remembered was chugging punch, hugging everyone, crying, and the evil bouncy castle...

And then there was the announcement. Fifty-seven dead. Murmurs of the Arcanists, something Jamie hadn’t heard of before. It had been a lot to process that morning, given that he was both hungover and still a tiny bit drunk. The details were fuzzy and goddamn the headache was getting worse.

Amelia looked up from how focused she was on her drink. “Huh? What?” She barely noticed his punchy-scented breath, considering how much she had drank already. “Why not? I was in it earlier and it was delightful!” 

"Oh Lia, you naive nargle.” He shook his head and moved his hand from her shoulder to point a crooked finger at her. This proved to be a mistake as he immediately lost balance and stumbled backgrounds to fall onto the ground. Looking up at Amelia with glazed eyes and a sideways smile, he said with cheer, “looks like we’re sitting!” And patted the ground next to him.

"Anywhomst, the bouncy castle. It’s evil. It’s plotting against us. It’s-- It’s-- Y’know what happened, Lia? That goddamn fifth year, he made me chug it. So much. And then we went on the bouncy castle and...” He paused, looking around to make sure no one was within earshot. In a loud whisper, he continued, “don’t go behind that oak tree over there. I know at least five people who’ve yacked. And, honest, I’m at least three of them.”

“I have to say, the one thing that I will never compromise on as Head Boy is my favorite kneazle.” It may have seemed ridiculous from someone outside the conversation to hear how serious Cal was. “We need to get back to our weekend runs, bro. I’ve been vegging out all summer break.” 

“Vegging out? I don’t believe it. You look fit as ever! Look at those arms.” James reached forward and squeezed Cal’s biceps. “Bro, you’re an absolute stud and you know it. Y’know, if you weren’t my mate, and this was Hog’s Head, and I’d had a few drinks...” He wiggled his eyebrows.

At the mention of weekend runs, Jamie’s attitude turned from a joking, flirtatious manner to pure excitement. He treasured those early morning runs with Cal. No one else was ever up as early as Jamie, especially on weekends, and he had little tolerance for boredom. Besides the companionship, running also helped him work off the excess energy that was always bubbling inside of him. It was a win-win.

“Oh fuck yeah, I’m absolutely down for morning runs. Don’t know if you’ll be able to keep up, though. Not to flex but uhh, I did do quite a bit of running this summer.” 

“Oh dammit!” Dori cried, hitting her knees next to Jamie after a moment of open mouthed gaping at his lack of coordination. Her hands fluttering over him fretfully as she wondered how to help. Flipping from chagrin to annoyance in a heartbeat for lack of a better way to express her guilt, she reached down and began to tie his shoes aggressively, a pinched look on her face. “Honestly James, your coordination is bad enough without walking around with untied shoes! We have moving staircases here, you could fall and break your neck.” 

Jamie wasn’t someone who embarrassed easily. His clumsy and dramatic nature often made him the center of bizarre spectacles, but he had always enjoyed the attention. But as Dori tied his shoes and lectured him, he felt his face turn red. He didn’t move to sit up. He just lay there, cursing every deity he’d ever learned about, and sending a special ‘fuck you’ to the house elves that worked the kitchen. Why, why, why did they have to make black beans?

He checked his WizGiz for the thirty-seventh time. It was nearly nine a.m. All of the responsible, rule-abiding students had left for class, leaving Jamie alone in the arcade. He’d been there since eight-thirty, when Lizzie was supposed to meet him (assuming she read the note that he had charmed to buzz obnoxiously around her head). Of course, he hadn’t actually expected her then -- Lizzie was perpetually late and decidedly not a morning person. Jamie always took this into account and invited her places at least thirty minutes early. It worked every time.

“Jamster! My bud. Where have you been all day? I was ready for an epic reunion but you weren’t there. We are in the prime of our life. Well I am, I don’t know about you there.” 

“Spent most of the day in the forest; had to check up on my lil’ buddies. You’ll be pleased to know that our favorite kneazle is doing well -- scruffy as ever.” James beamed, but his smile quickly turned to a pout at Cal’s last words. “I’ll have you know I’m as fit as ever. You see this bod? You think that just happens?”

“Isn’t it as easy as just not doing anything for a whole week? Ima have to pass on that one. As much fun as it sounds, I get in enough trouble around here on my own.”

“Doing nothing? No no, you don’t understand. It’s an art. Lounging casually, playing idly with your quill -- and all while looking great.” Jamie gave his patent charming grin (which, in truth, looked demented at best). At the word ‘trouble’ he perked up. “Trouble, eh? I always took you for the responsible sort.”

Jamie is a morning person. He wakes up ridiculously early, much to the chagrin of his roommates, who are oftentimes woken up by his humming, heavy footsteps, and inability to do anything quietly. He’s also incredibly cheerful and upbeat in the morning, which some people find irritating.

He has a terrible singing voice but constantly sings anyway. To make it worse, his favorite genre is disco, and he can oftentimes be heard screeching I Will Survive in the shower.

When he was seven, his class went on a field trip to a farm. He loved the cows so much that he decided to stop eating meat. The next day in the cafeteria, he tried to revolt against the lunch ladies for serving hamburgers. His rebellion failed, but he has been a strict vegetarian since then.

Jamie loves bad films and superheroes. Accordingly, his favorite movie is Daredevil (2003).

Every party is a costume party if you want it to be, according to Jamie. He keeps a box filled with capes, fake beards, and miscellaneous disguises under his bed for these occasions.

“My mum is a muggle, but my dad filled her in on everything before my first year, so I can’t get away with anything like that. You should be a little worried that you’re failing half your classes though.”

“I like to think of it as impressive. I mean, failing one week in? Do you know how hard that is? Nearly impossible -- that is, if you’re an amateur.” Jamie patted Carson on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, though, I can teach you.”