The Journalist and The Photographer vs The Soccer Player

Getting Along

~Lunch Hour~

I was still processing what happened before classes began, but I pushed that to the back of my head for now.

Right now, I was listening to a True Crime Podcast, having one earphone in my right ear, writing down details of the book I had been reading while walking into the cafeteria. 

"There she is, where the hell have you been?" Luca asked, folding his arms. I paused my podcast, sitting down in my usual spot at our table. However, Luca was at my side and Remus sat across from me, Roman at his side.

"I told you, I was skipping half of lunch," I said, glaring at Roman when he looked at me.

"The hell you glaring for?" he scoffed.

"I ought to slice your throat," I scoffed back. Remus choked on the apple he bit into, starting to wheeze. Meanwhile, Luca scolded me, Roman glared back at me, Vivian rolled her eyes at my comment, Patton tried suggesting that I should say something nice, and Janus sat back, watching.

"Wow, of course, Remus is laughing," Vivian said.

"I haven't met anyone that does what I do, can you blame me?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Luca huffed.

"Remus tends to speak like a bitch also," Roman said.

"Anything can be a shank if you use it right," I told him, hearing more laughter from Remus.

"Shut up, god damn," Luca snapped.

"He started it," I said.

"You glared at me first," he raised his voice.

"Knock it off, damn. Remus, what are you talking about?" Luca asked again.

"I threaten people often, an impulse thing," Remus grinned ear to ear.

"Like you asking to get to know me this morning? And the number thing?" I asked.

"Sorta," Remus shrugged.

"Wait, what number thing?" Patton asked.

"You really went off and talked to her after I told you what I got?" Roman snapped.

"I gotta have my own impression. I asked for her number if she was to busy to talk," Remus shrugged.

"What the fuck?" Luca said, looking at me.

"I'm assuming you said no, Logan," Janus said.

"Nah, she didn't. Remus don't ever me it romantically, probably specified it," Vivian said, stealing Roman's and Remus's bread rolls while they were distracted.

"Bitch, that was mine," Remus scoffed.

"Mine now," she smirked.

"Languages all around," Patton spoke up.

"I did specify, I remember what you told me, Vivi," Remus said, looking at me.

"See?" Vivian hummed.

"I don't even understand what's going on," Janus admitted.

"Me either," Luca sighed, finishing his tray of food.

"Whatcha listening to?" Remus asked me, pulling from the conversation between Luca, Roman, Vivian, Patton, and Janus.

"True Crime, a podcast I started listening to a couple of weeks ago," I told him, putting my notebook in my bag and pulling my College Prep Math book out, flipping to one of the pages I had to study.

"Listening to it right now?" he asked.

"No, Luca started talking to me and I didn't want to miss something," I said, glancing up at him.

"Damn, I want to listen to something that isn't this dumbass," he huffed.

"My headphones don't stretch enough. Plus, I rather not share my headphones right now," I told him.

"Cool by me, I was just asking," he said, his grin appearing once my head tilted a little.

"...Why the grey?" I questioned, shutting my workbook.

"Oo, condition our father had. Instead of white, my hair looks grey in those streaks. Why the blue?" he asked.

"Vivian. When she dyes her hair purple, she tends to have leftover bleach. Invites me over, I normally pick up blue dye on the way, and we make an evening out of it. What sport?" I asked.

"Soccer. Why journalist?"

"I needed a social club on my record that wasn't math or science. Why soccer?"

"Roman played football at our old school, plus I enjoy it more than other sports. Where'd the left hook come from?"

"Learned from my father and Luca. Work boots?"

"Unnecessary urge to go to those pig farms half an hour out after school. Fun to be in the mud and not worry about nothing. Why blue in general?"

"My favorite color, orange is a close second because of Luca. Why such a mustache?"

"Don't like shaving. Why..." his voice faded, running out of questions. He chuckled as I cracked a smile.

"Ran out of questions for me?" I asked.

"For now. I think we'll get along though," his grin was back, making me crack a slightly bigger smile.

"I agree."

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715 words :]