Gods & Monsters

VI

"Guess who?"

A long-suffering sigh. Then: "Who."

Jacob snorts.

Troye doesn't even lift his head from his book (he's outside again, but at a different tree—one that overlooks a little grassy plain where a small cluster of boys are playing footie) but there is absolutely a twitch in his left cheek—there is. Whether it's a twitch of annoyance or the suppression of a smile is up for debate, but Jacob likes to think optimistically. So it's totally a suppressed smile.

"You're very funny, you know."

This makes Troye raise his head. Jacob notes that he doesn't have his earbuds in today. A rare occurrence. "You told me to guess 'who'. So I said 'who'."

Oh wow.

Jacob huffs, amused. "Thank you for the detailed description of your thought process," he deadpans, and it's enough to make Troye offer up a small smile and a single-shouldered shrug.

"No problem," he says, and turns the page of his book. So tidy.

Shaking his head (this kid is really something, eh?) Jacob gestures to the ground beside him. "May I?"

"Sure," Troye mumbles, eyes skimming across the words before him. He seems a little distracted, more bent on studying the text than studying Jacob.

Which is never good.

"So how are you today?" Jacob asks, hoping to distract. If only he could successfully manage to somehow get a hold of his book and toss it in the pond...

Timothee would love that. He can just imagine it now: 'Hi, Timothee . Today I tossed Troye's book in the pond. Distracted him nicely for you. Can we have sex now, can I have your money now, can I take advantage of you now?' 'Oh yes, of course, let us fuck.'

He suppresses a snort at the thought.

Troye shrugs again. "Good, I suppose." Pause. "It's nice to be outside. Better than the classrooms."

"Is that why I keep finding you out here rather than your little nook in the library? I'd begun to think you were just trying to dodge me," Jacob smiles, making sure his eyes crinkle, as he rests his elbows on his knees. He made sure to wear his best jeans today—AKA, the only ones without enormous rips in the knees and bum. They're relatively clean, too. Those, paired with his Jim Morrison t-shirt and trusty jean jacket, officially put Jacob in the running for Most Attractive Hobo in his age group. Maybe in all age groups.

Point is, Jacob knows he looks good today. And he's going to use it to his advantage. He's even got his hair done—up in what's been affectionately coined as a "prince hair" after that time Dylan pointed a lazy finger to the top of his head and said, "You look like a royalty like this."

Oh, Dylan .

"I didn't say I wasn't trying to dodge you," Troye counters, but his lips are twisting with amusement as they bumble out the syllables, so it's not a warning flag or anything.

Jacob makes himself a bit more comfortable.

Troye looks much the same as usual—wearing a white t-shirt and skinny jeans and pristine White Converse—and his hair is a bit frizzier than is custom (which is saying something) but he looks well-rested and pleasant. And very studious. He's got a highlighter in his hand which he uses on the occasion, steadily dragging out lines of fluorescent yellow. Once in awhile, his eyes flicker up to the field in front of him, where the boys are playing.

Jacob observes the action closely. Timothee's words are fresh in his mind.

"...there's talk that he's going to join the footie team. People think he'll want to be captain..."