𝗪𝗔𝗜𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗠𝗘 ━━ l. valdez

𝐈𝐕 ; the jokes that he told were revolting and far too loud

title from 'i can fix him (no really i can)' by taylor swift

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 us in front of a big red stucco complex like a museum, just sitting in the middle of nowhere. a cold wind blew across the desert.

"so, a crash course for the amnesiac," leo said, in a helpful tone. "sorry, i mean amnesiac jason. not amnesiac camille. we go to the 'wilderness school'" — leo made air quotes with his fingers. "which means we're 'bad kids.' your family, or the court, or whatever, decided you were too much trouble, so they shipped you off to this lovely prison—sorry, 'boarding school'—in armpit, nevada, where you learn valuable nature skills like running ten miles a day through the cacti and weaving daisies into hats! and for a special treat we go on 'educational' field trips with coach hedge, who keeps order with a baseball bat. is it all coming back to you now?"

"no."

leo rolled his eyes. "you're really gonna play this out, huh? okay, so the three of us started here together this semester. camille only joined us like a week ago, but we're all totally tight. she's basically my girlfriend—"

"um, no—"

"and you do everything i say and give me your dessert and do my chores—"

"leo!" piper snapped.

"fine. ignore that last part. but we are friends. well, piper's a little more than your friend, the last few weeks—"

"leo, stop it!" piper's face turned red. "he's got amnesia or something. we've got to tell somebody."

leo scoffed. "who, coach hedge?

"yeah," i agreed. "he'd probably try to fix jason by whacking him upside the head."

the coach was at the front of the group, barking orders and blowing his whistle to keep us in line; but every so often he'd glance back at jason and scowl.

"jason needs help," piper insisted. "he's got a concussion or—"

"yo, piper." dylan, one of my least favorite people i've met at this new school, dropped back to join us as the group was heading into the museum. he wedged himself between jason and piper and knocked leo down. "don't talk to these bottom-feeders. you're my partner, remember?"

dylan had dark hair cut in a classic gentlemen's style, a deep tan, and teeth so white they should've come with a warning label: do not stare directly at teeth. permanent blindness may occur. he wore an nfl football jersey of a team i didn't recognize, western jeans and boots, and he smiled like he was god's gift to juvenile delinquent girls everywhere.

"go away, dylan," piper grumbled. "i didn't ask to work with you."

"ah, that's no way to be. this is your lucky day!" dylan hooked his arm through hers and dragged her through the museum entrance. piper shot one last look over her shoulder like, 911.

i helped leo up.

he brushed himself off. "i hate that guy." he offered me his arm, like we should go skipping inside together. "'i'm dylan. i'm so cool, i want to date myself, but i can't figure out how! you want to date me instead? you're so lucky!'"

"leo," jason said, "you're weird."

"yeah, you tell me that a lot." leo grinned. "but if you don't remember me, that means i can reuse all my old jokes. come on guys!"

we followed leo into the museum and walked through the building, stopping here and there for coach hedge to lecture us with his megaphone, which alternately made him sound like a demon or blared out random comments like "the pig says oink."