all-american :: jotaro x reader

chapter 7 :: all-american classmates

It kept my head down as I walked into the 7/11 this morning.

I had once again, sacrificed my lunch to a few more minutes of sleep and yet again had "forgotten" to pack one. And now I'm paying for it by dragging my ass to a 7/11 before school and paying for a Doraemon-themed prepackaged bento. Lukewarm.

The cashier looks at me oddly as I dig around in my bag for spare change and hastily drop it on the counter. A yen rolls down on the floor and I hit my head on the display rack picking it up. A magazine falls off.

"You alright?" Asks the cashier as I stand up and rub my head, dropping the stray yen on the counter. I nod and return the magazine to its display. "Sorry."

I stuff my lunch in my bag and let it condense among my schoolwork, and continue my route to school. Yet again, my sleeves are rolled up and my socks are up high and I could not want to be in bed more than I do right now.

There are squeals Of excitement up ahead.

I can't think of what is so exiting this early in the morning, especially for all those girls to be making such a racket up ahead. I rub my temples and sigh.

"Oh my god, Jojo, did you get a new shirt?"
"Jojo! Let's walk to class together!"
"Wanna copy my homework, Jojo?"
"I packed us lunch!"

The name rings a bell I can't distinguish. I walk forward anyways and the screaming is getting closer - it's coming from around the corner - the last block, about, before the gates.

A mob of girls. Among the short purple uniforms looms a tall, dark one.

Jotaro. I forgot he was my age.

I laugh to myself, seeing him slouched over, hands in pockets and all tired like an adult trudging off to school. Even though he's a bit out of place, it struck a certain chord in my heart.

I easily approach the girls, who are walking at the same slow, unbothered place that he's walking at. I slowly realize they're akin to a screaming purple roadblock.

I shove past a few of them (not without a few dirty looks) and make my way up to the front of the herd, where Jotaro leads like a matriarch of some sort.

"Morning," I say, offering a quick side eye and a smile, and continuing onwards. Noticing it's me, he looks down and grunts in return, more in a acknowledging manner.

I walk past them. The school gates are in view.

I can hear a few of them complaining to him in overdramatic whiny voices, asking who the hell I was and what right I had to even gain a response from him. I laugh to myself yet again.

Someone gets shoved behind me. There's a hitting sound followed by a stern yet serious "Move, bitch."

I smile, my brain automatically cuing in the lyrics to that familiar Ludacris song from back in California - "Get out the way. Get out the way, bitch, get out the way..."

All of the girls scream, but not in terror - again, excitement? Hell, that's a lust scream-
"Aki, you're so lucky!"
"Jojo! Shove me, shove me!"
"Come back, Jojo!"

I'm finishing up the chorus to the song when the sun, shining down on the pavement below me, is covered by a huge shadow. "Oi."

I look up. Jotaro looms over me, hands in pockets and hat tipped a little lower. His eyelids sit heavy and tired against his pupils and his eyebrows, yet again, are stuck in that permanent, angry sort of way.

I grin. "What's the story, Morning Glory?" And I am returned with a dirty look.

"Okay, Okay, Sorry," I say, lifting my hands in defense. "Seems like you're quite the talk around here."