the latter | andrew clark ✅

twelve

"Alright girls, that's thirty minutes for lunch."

"Here?" Andrew asks.

"No," Jamie shakes her head, "probably the janitor's closet." Despite the glare Vernon gives, the deadpan look still stays.

"Well I think the cafeteria would be a more suitable place for us to eat lunch in, sir!"

"Well, I don't care what you think, Andrew!"

"Yo, Rich." The man turns his head towards Jamie. "Will milk be made available to us?"

"We're extremely thirsty," Andrew adds.

"I have a very low tolerance for dehydration," Claire adds her two bits in as well.

"I've seen her dehydrate sir, it's pretty ugly." Claire glares at Andrew.

"She's always ugly," Jamie mumbles under her breath.

"Relax, I'll get it." John stands up from his seat.

"Ah, ah, ah. Grab some wood there, bub! What do you think, I was born yesterday?"

"Not with that hairline," Jamie grumbles.

"What?"

"Your hairline is about as bad Michael Jordan's and Charles Barkley's."

"Who?" Jamie gives another deadpan look, shaking her head quietly in disappointment. "Since you want to talk, you and Andrew can get the drinks."

With the click of her tongue, Jamie is up from her seat, leaving the rest of the group as she walks with Andrew.

"So, what's your poison?" Andrew wonders, trying to start a conversation. It only makes Jamie raise a brow at the athlete. "Nevermind," he sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Do you know who Michael Jordan is?" she blurts out. Andrew lets a moment pass, trying to remember the name before sigh passes her lips, her mouth opening without a moment to think. "Why are you here?" she wonders out loud. She stops walking, instead, leaning against the wall, Andrew doing the same across from her.

"Um, I'm here today...because my coach and my father don't want me to blow my ride. I get treated differently because coach thinks I'm a winner. So does my old man. I'm not a winner because I wanna be one... I'm a winner because I got strength and speed. Kinda like a racehorse. That's about how involved I am in what's happening to me."

Jamie opens and closes her mouth a few times, trying to comprehend what the hell Andrew just said. After a few moments, she responds simply. "I lie a lot," she starts. "And I'm telling you—in the nicest way possible—that that, was a shitty lie."

"Forget it!" Andrew scoffs loudly, stomping away from Jamie.

"C'mon man," Jamie sighs. She jogs to catch up with him, which was easy as he had to put money in the vending machine. "I'm just saying. It sounds like you threw alphabet soup on the floor and tried to make up a lie with it."

"Oh fuck you!" he exclaims, turning his body to the girl. "And what's your reason for being in here then? Huh?"

"I'm a fucking Bender, dude," she states, waving at herself. "I could breathe and a teacher would send me to the principal's office."

"Or was it because you were following John like a dog?" Jamie freezes for a moment, not knowing how to respond. A quiet scoff passes her mouth while a smirk places itself on her lips. Despite the look she gives, Andrew can see the sadness in her eyes. "Hey, Jamie-"

"I'm gonna go to the other machine down the hall. I'll get the rest of the sodas out there." A fake, tight-lipped smile forms on her lips before she walks farther down the hall. Andrew stares at her form, a quiet sigh passing his lips while guilt begins to weigh on his shoulders.