I figured out what Jett was talking about the very next day. I was sitting in the cafeteria with my friends at lunch when he welcomed himself to our table. He sat down beside me, stuck his legs under the table, and said, "What's for lunch?"
I stared at him like he was a complete stranger. Becky's eyes widened, and her cheeks got all pink and bothered. Becky had gone out with Jett in sophomore year. Ever since he broke up with her, she'd done nothing but talk shit about him. To the point where we all kind of figured it meant she still had a thing for him. She denied this, of course, but still. It was kind of obvious. She'd initially denied he was the one who did the breaking up. But she'd eventually let it slip. And then tried to follow it up with an excuse I wasn't sure I believed anymore.
"What are you doing?" I asked. He cut his blue-green eyes to me.
"Annoying you," he replied. I glanced at Becky because her cheeks had gone from pink to red. She wasn't happy about him sitting with us. And she was either mad at him for daring to be in her presence or angry at me for being the current center of his attention.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I can."
"You're not welcome here, Jett," Becky said. He folded his fingers on the table and smiled at her.
"Funny. I don't remember asking you, Rebecca."
"Well, no one wants you here."
"Speak for yourself. Do you want me here?" He turned on me again. Then I finally understood what people meant when they said they were stuck between a rock and a hard place.
"I—um...," I stuttered. If I said yes, Becky would be mad at me for siding with him. If I said no, it might hurt his feelings. And maybe I was just feeling nice because I really didn't want to hurt his feelings. Not when things were already so fragile between us.
"See, she doesn't care," Jett decided, turning back to Becky. She gave me a 'what the hell?' look. I responded with an apologetic shrug.
"Whatever. Just don't talk. I can't stand the sound of your voice." She returned to her food and was probably silently pleased he was staying. He leaned against his elbow and turned to me.
"She hates me more than you do," he told me. I nodded.
"Probably."
He smiled, and then I wondered if he had the same theory about Becky's hatred as I did. That she didn't actually hate him at all. So what did my response mean? That I hated him more or that I hated him less? Well, then I just got confused and went back to my lunch. But a moment later, I saw one of his fingers snake out to steal a chip.
"What the fuck is this thing?" he asked.
"A veggie straw." He ate it.
"It tastes like—Munchos." I nodded.
"That's what I always thought. My mom likes them because they're made of spinach." And just like that, he spat it out in a napkin.
"Gross."
"You just said they tasted like Munchos."
"And I just decided I don't like Munchos anymore." He began to pick through the rest of my lunch.
"You're like a child. A big, obnoxious child." With muscles, my mind added. And pretty blue-green eyes. He wasn't wearing his blazer and had a short-sleeved, white button-up shirt with the school's mustard yellow plaid tie hanging loose around his neck. He had nice arms. Lean and naturally tanned. He stole another veggie chip and examined it.
"Is this one made of spinach too?"
"No. The pink ones are made of tomatoes. The yellow ones are made of potatoes. Only the green ones are spinach."
"Cool." He shoved it into his mouth and decided he liked it better than the spinach one. "A cute child," he added. I glared at him again. He just grinned back.
"I thought you were going to leave me alone?" I asked, sifting through the rest of my chips.
"I changed my mind."
"Why? We had a deal."
"Yeah—but what will you do if I don't go through with my end of the bargain? Not drink any more coffee?" He ate another chip.
"I hate you so much." He smiled again.
"Then why are you letting me eat all your chips?"
"Because I only like the spinach ones." He shrugged and took a handful, carefully picking out all the green ones.
"I gotta go. See you in Biology." He shoved them all into his mouth at once and then trotted off to return to his friends. I turned back to mine, and they were all watching me. All three of them all at once.
"What was that?" Danni asked.
"An annoying insect." I looked through the rest of the chips and sighed. He'd left me all the green ones. I lied about it. I liked the potato ones best.
"It was like I wanted to shove your faces together and make you kiss."
"What?"
"Don't play stupid," Becky said, a little colder than usual. "You guys were practically dry-humping in the cafeteria."
"Right. I forgot. This group automatically assumes that if you hate someone, you must secretly be in love with them." I stood up and gathered up my trash. "I wonder why." Becky glared back at me.
YOU ARE READING
Bottled Blue
RomanceSee the months they don't matter It's the days I can't take When the hours move to minutes And I'm seconds away Disclaimer: Summery from New American Classic by Taking Back Sunday. This story is part of a series. They do not need to be read in order...