kind of hot in a trailer park way

“Are you sure about that? I don’t hear the shower running.” Kai teased, playfully looking over at the man to process his next move. “I never would of thought frail flower would be added to the list of words to describe me, but this isn’t about me at all.” He continued slowly as his gaze met Jack’s. “I want to see what it’s like when you’ve got to put in some effort.” The man laughed, shaking his head at the other’s bow. “You’re English, I’ll give you that.”

“We could always pop it on now,” he pointed out, tone of voice positively angelic as he returned Kai’s look. “Are you saying I’ve never put in any effort for you, Kai? I’m absolutely heartbroken,” Jack declared. “Perhaps you’re merely too unobservant to notice my efforts.”

“I know. Shocking, isn’t it?” Jack pointed out, eyeing Ben up as if in an accusatory fashion, “That you’re even worse than me? Anyway, you’re just too cowardly to bother with a second match. You’re worried it was a fluke. Figures.”

“Of course you would know. It’s probably the same sounds you make,” she said, easily throwing back a dry retort to Jack. It was second nature to her with him around. She was still listening, but could also clearly make out what Jack was saying to her as well. She was quick to give him the middle finger at his question. “Tell her I watch porn too while you’re at it,” Nikki added, giving him the tiniest quirk of a smile.

“You’re really gonna bully me like this? I’m hurt, Niks. There was me,” Jack said with a dramatic sigh, “thinking we were friends. Tragic, honestly.” His laughter returned at her middle finger, though, and he leaned against the wall, pretending to think. “Maybe i’ll just post her a vibrator, say it’s from you....”

“Sky,” Rhia corrected, rather firmly given who she was talking to. “And he’s not dead, he just got sick of this stupid place. Probably didn’t help you were always such a jerk to him,” she reprimanded. She sighed, knowing it wasn’t her place to hold Jack accountable but feeling obligated to anyway. Besides not knowing what differential equations were, Rhia didn’t have much interest in understanding mathematics. “I would try,” Rhia insisted anyway. She tapped her pencil to her notebook and leaned her chin into the palm of her hand. “Maybe I should write a song about you. It’d probably be a cathartic experience for most of the people here,” she teased. “With your permission, of course.”

“You say sick of this stupid place, I say dead. Must be my accent,” he chirped, grinning. “I would argue that I was nothing but charming to him. Maybe he just had issues with immigrants,” Jack added with a shrug, as if he were truly blameless. “I’d say do it, but how could you possibly condense all that is Jackson Noel Kelly,” he gestured to himself, “into four minutes? It’d be like, a ten minute ode at least. A concept album of me. Actually, do that.” 

“You,” Jack said calmly, “drink loudly. It’s annoying.” He said the words in a matter of fact tone, as if he were stating a fact, a fact others might agree upon and condone his actions in relation to. “What, I poured coffee on you. Why, previously stated reason. What the fuck, refer to previous answer. Is that all your questions done with?” 

“On the contrary, you were distracting me,” Jack informed the boy with a shrug, as if his actions were completely justifiable by his mild to moderate annoyance at the coffee drinking noises. “Nuisance aside, did it even hit your laptop? Which, by the way, is incredibly ugly and may well benefit from an overpriced coffee soaking. You considered upgrading?” He tapped away at his own laptop as if demonstrating his point, shoulders still tense. Turned out, the coffee drop had not eased his stress at all, nor aided in his attempt to achieve a lack of distractions. Bummer. “Anyway, drink quieter.”

Finals were right around the corner. And in a shocking turn of events, Jack was stressed. 

Of course, it was entirely his own fault, having repeatedly neglected his studies in favour of wreaking havoc. But knowing that didn’t exactly lessen the pressure, and his state of mind instead was worsening and fixating on every little thing in the library which distracted him from his attempt to learn every single equation off by heart in the space of thirty minutes. The clicking of someone’s pen. Someone’s nails against their laptop keyboard. And mainly, the sound of the person right opposite him sipping their drink, which seemed to fill his ears so aggressively that he was unable to even look at anything else, the numbers blurring into one, white hot streak of annoyance. 

Without even thinking about it, Jack sat up, put his laptop down, and in one fluid motion picked up the drink from the coffee table, throwing it all over the student, before sitting back, his laptop placed back in his lap as if nothing had happened. 

“Oops,” he said, cheerfully. “Slipped.”

It shouldn’t have taken Carew as long as it did to realize who was sitting beside him. The very son of a bitch he sure as hell hadn’t missed in his time away. “Sorry love. Offer wasn’t supposed to be for you.” He announced in a way that was almost a little too casual for someone who followed it by reaching up to grab the other by the back of the head. Gripping his hair one moment, and slamming his head down against the bar the next. “Fuck off.” He cursed, as it’d awoken the student at the other end of the bar.

“You,” Jack said in a slightly strangled tone of voice as his head made contact with the bar, “owe me ten bucks now, dumbass. Ketchup man’s up.” Grinning despite the obvious pain, he stomped on Carew’s foot to try and help loosen his grip, twisting around to glare and throw a punch in the direction of the other boy’s nose by way of revenge, although despite his reputation, fighting in the physical sense had never been Jack’s forte. Still, the obvious anger in Carew’s voice and actions was more than enough compensation for the beating about to happen. “What’s wrong, baby boy? Scared of a couple chlamydia pills? Or you just feel a bit lame? Never you mind,” Jack said sweetly, “I’ll make sure you get gonorrhea next time.”

This wasn’t the first time Jack had said something confusing, though this had seemed more specific. “Luxor flies them out so often that it seems pointless to waste the energy, most parents would be a bigger pain in the ass.” Lennon looked over at him, narrowing her eyes as he went on about futures. “We’ve never really worried about all of that together before.” It seemed weird that this was on his mind and oddly specific to her relationship with her own mother. She voiding help but wonder if it was a weird coincidence, surely Jack had a point when he brought up the subject all together. “My mother has strong opinions, usually conflicting ones…do your parents do the same?”

“I guess maybe people,” he seemed to think out loud, eyes wide and innocent, “seem traumatised enough about their upbringing that the administration thinks maybe they can try and force a reunion. With all the push for mental health support and that.I don’t know. Maybe people are writing shit about their parents on those dumbass assessments they made us fill out,” he suggested, eyebrow raising for just a moment, just long enough to make an unvoiced suggestion regarding what he might be referring to, before he shook his head. “If my parents,” the word placed in air quotes, “adopted me because they think I’m gonna let them control me, they’re sorely mistaken. I guess I’m lucky though. I find it easy to speak up to them.”

“Do you really think so low of me? Jackson Kelly would never start something he couldn’t finish,” Jack insisted, hand going to his heart dramatically. “I never knew you were such a frail flower, though, babes. Waiting for me to woo you? How,” he paused to think of the correct word, “Victorian. Never fear,” he added in a saccharine tone, “your sweet little heart is perfectly safe in my hands. I am, after all,” he offered a mock bow to hold up his words, “a perfect English gentleman.”

“Are you okay?” Jack directed a look of faux sympathy towards Nate, tone of voice unusually innocent - or, well, trying to be. “Just hoping this,” he gestured to the pool, “doesn’t bring back trauma or anything. It must be so hard.”