twelve ☆ are you touching brooke?

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narrator's pov:

since the weather was nice—well, the weather is always nice in california— everyone ate outside by the pool for lunch.

they postmated lots of different restaurants. the seating chart was daniel, brooke, jonah, and in front of them was jack, zach, and corbyn.

"you seriously didn't order me any apple juice?" daniel whined.

"sorry, bro, i forgot," corbyn apologized.

"i officially don't ship dorbyn anymore," daniel grunted.

"bro, nobody shipped that. everyone shipped jorbyn," jack scoffed.

"wait, i thought everybody shipped jachary!" zach shouted.

"unpopular opinion, but zaniel is way underrated," brooke declared.

"yup, she's right. we need more zaniel moments," jonah agreed.

"okay, fine," daniel gave in.

he grabbed his plate of food and sat next to zach, which left jonah and brooke alone.

"ew," zach screeched, playfully pushing daniel.

brooke laughed, and they all continued to eat their lunch.

-

"jonah, could you pass me the caesar salad?" brooke asked.

jonah nodded, and grabbed the bowl. accidentally, jonah dropped it and the salad landed all over brooke's thighs.

"oh my gosh, i'm so sorry. i'll get some napkins," jonah apologized, heading inside to get paper towels.

"it's okay," brooke said.

jonah came back with a roll of paper towels.

"you don't need all of those," brooke giggled.

"i feel bad," jonah sighed, grabbing a paper towel.

"oh, jonah, i can do it mysel—" brooke declared, but jonah started cleaning off the salad on her legs.

brooke just sat there while jonah wiped off the salad from her thighs.

"uh, jonah, what are you doing?" jack asked, looking under the table.

everyone else looked under the table.

"ew, are you touching brooke?" zach inquired.

daniel started to furrow his eyebrows.

"no, i'm helping her clean the salad off her legs," jonah defended.

daniel gave the two a weird look, and they all carried on with the rest of their lunch.

...

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