One-Jacqueline Gets Snot On My Favorite Shirt

"And then I was saying that she should just go out with the other guy, y'know . . ." Kim slurped her strawberry milk in the most unladylike way that I've ever witnessed, while my best friend, Ox, who is both the smartest and dumbest person in the world, stared at her as if she had just discovered the moon. Or peanut butter.

I slouched deeper in my seat, doing my utmost to not roll my eyes. I don't usually have trouble keeping my internal thoughts from becoming external, so this says a lot about the form of torture that I was having to endure. I would die for Ox, but being his wingman after he already got the girl?

So. Freaking. Lame.

"But she said she just cheated with him to make herself feel better about her boyfriend checking me out-which was a total misunderstanding!" Kim hastened to add, sensing Ox's coming explosion before even I did.

"He was checking me out," Jackie cut in smugly. "Which, really, isn't much better." She tossed her dark brown hair over her shoulders, leaning in to steal a sip of her best friend's shake.

"The point is, he was ogling someone else," Kim went on, as if either of her audience members gave a rat's ass. I was ready to drive stakes through my ears if it would ensure that I wouldn't have to hear another word. I wasn't really one for polite conversation, let alone gossip that had nothing to do with grades or missions.

And then there was the fact that Kim was a witch. I might not have held that alone against her, since Lord Death himself trusted her at the Academy and I wasn't one to question orders, but her actions hadn't made her suspicious. I wouldn't trust any student who had run away to join an enemy faction, witch or no. It just didn't make sense.

I was sickened, too, by how normal both Kim and Jackie acted about the whole thing, as if they'd just gone on vacation or something. It unnerved me that anyone could switch sides so quickly and so often. And, yes, that they were both girls had me less than pleased, as well. The giggling and the gossiping and the hair-flipping and perfume and-ugh. Murder would be doing me a favor.

Jackie caught my eye, and smirked as though she guessed what I was thinking. Jerking her head towards the door, she eased out of her chair and announced, "I'm heading out for a sec." The lovebirds-i.e., Kim and Ox-barely noticed her exit.

Both grateful for a chance of escape and wary of leaving my meister alone with his greatest temptation(though I knew the witch could take care of herself), I debated for a second before following Jackie. The debate didn't last long-the cafe looked like the result of a love child between Cupid and Martha Stewart that was raised in the sixties and had a deep-seated and disturbing love for kittens and cotton candy and I would have taken any excuse to leave just so that I could breathe in oxygen instead of glitter for a while.

"Whew," Jackie exhaled once we were outside, sounding as relieved as I felt. "That was, like, worse than facing down demons. I'd take kishin hunting any day."

I grunted, I think. I don't remember. I don't think I said anything; not really my MO. Jackie fished around in her jeans' pockets for a minute and then pulled out, to my mild surprise, a pack of cigarettes.

Lantern. Duh.

She politely offered me one before lighting up. I declined.

"Don't tell Kim," she told me, releasing a stream of smoke into the rapidly darkening evening. The street was nearly empty, and the air filled with the crisp smell that promised hot summer nights soon but nipped at ears and noses until then. "She thinks that I quit."

I almost reacted to that-the witch had an objection to her partner smoking? Which was worse, in the grand scheme of things?-but refrained. Pointless conversations only led to more girls thinking that they were friends with me.

And then a voice that certainly couldn't be mine was asking, "Why didn't you?"

If she was startled that I'd spoken(or that the bizarre creature that had taken over my mind had exercised my vocal chords), she didn't show it, leaning back against the half-wall surrounding the cafe and taking another drag. "Stress, mostly. Her taking me to places like the Cookie Explosion." She gestured to the building behind her, her face telling me exactly what she thought of volatile baked goods.

"Maybe I will take a smoke," the not-me said, moving forwards to claim a Marlboro Menthol Gold. Jackie frowned at me. "And maybe I should charge you-it's ten cents a light."

"Don't offer if you're not gonna follow through," I muttered, and she laughed, chocolate hair falling over her bare shoulders as she tilted her head back.

I wasn't noticing, or anything.

"I was kidding," she reassured me, and held out her index finger. I eyed it questioningly, and she impatiently jabbed it towards the end of my cigarette. Her nail briefly flared, igniting the end, and then she drew her hand back.

I looked at the now-smoldering cig with something approaching impressment, and took a drag.

Since it had been at least seven months since the last time I smoked, I nearly coughed. It was only by exercising every ounce of control that I had that I didn't. Jackie observed me with a half-smile, but didn't mock me, even though she would have been perfectly in the right.

"Anyway, it's not like I'm not used to it," Jackie said after we'd been smoking in silence for a while. I thought she was talking about the nicotine, until I saw the glance she shot over her shoulder at Kim and Ox. "Her dragging me places to boyfriend screen."

I nodded. What could I say to that?

"It's like, can't you make the judgment yourself?" Jackie complained, waving her free hand around like the world disgusted her. Her wrists were thin, the carpal bones forming knobs on the outer sides of her slim arms. The effect was more delicate than bony, and it looked strange to see such an elegant hand holding something so human as a cigarette.

Geez, I thought at once. Doubling up on your weird shit pills today or what? I didn't think about girls, as a rule. I sure didn't think half-poetic crap about them, or anyone, or anything. It's just ridiculous. And useless. And I didn't do it. Ever.

"You're the one who freaking decided to date him," Jackie went on, slipping into girl-yammer mode, an affected valley girl accent bleeding into her usual matter-of-fact drawl. Her hands were gesturing a mile a minute, both of them now, her cigarette threatening to go out as she waved it through air that had turned definitely chilly. The sun was barely peeking out from behind the nearest building, and the sky was purple-gray, transitioning quickly to blackness. We were going to miss curfew, if Ox and Kim didn't quit their Romeo and Juliet act soon.

"You're, like, old enough to decide if a guy's good for you or not." Jackie shrugged and took a drag. "I'm over it. All of it. Dating, guys, and being best friends with someone who's obsessed with both."

She took my impartial glance for one of concern or sympathy or something, because she went on blathering like I'd just said something kind; which suited me alright because then I didn't have to actually come up with something kind. The only thing I could think of was along the lines of "I don't really care. I'm just listening because I bummed a cigarette off of you and it's the nice thing to do." I didn't have much experience with girls, but I knew that wouldn't go over well, even if Jackie did seem, after a while, kind of cool.

"Don't get me wrong-she's still my best friend, and I love her to death," she explained, as if I would think less of her or she cared if I thought less of her. Girls, I thought, were so much better at pretending that things like that mattered. "I'm just sick of listening to her every time she gets a new crush."

"Jealous?" I have this gift for saying the exact most jack-assy thing that could be said in a given situation. It was exercised right then.

Jackie shot me a look full of venom, and snubbed out her smoke on the wall next to her. "Shut up."

Amazing. I say one word in that entire conversation, and she tells me to shut up.

I think I like this girl.

"Anyway, it's not like it's forever. Kim'll settle down one day, and then I'll only have to hear about one guy all the time, not six-bajillion."

"Six-bajillion isn't a number," I pointed out.

"I know that," Jackie glared. "And, no, Mr. Too-Cool-To-Look-At-Me, I'm not jealous," she went on, sarcasm fully operational. "I hate men, and I hate men like you the most."

Now, I was just standing there. I wasn't even doing anything. And yet she attacked me.

Again, I like this girl.

I shot her my best I-don't-give-two-flying-cats'-tails-what-you-think look, and she laughed. Actually laughed, at a look that has sent far scarier adversaries scuttling for their Lunchables. "That's exactly what I mean. You don't do anything-you just hover around like a creep, thinking those sunglasses make you look badass."

No, me being the smartest and strongest weapon in school, paired with the smartest and strongest meister in school, makes me badass. But let's not split hairs.

"They do." The not-me was back, and it almost smiled at Jackie before I got control again. What was the matter with me? Talking back and everything. I had to be careful; she might start liking me, too, and then I'd be obligated to be nice all the time, and when I inevitably failed at that, she would hate me and Kim would dump Ox out of solidarity and I would officially be the worst wingman in the history of the world.

Jackie, oblivious to my mental struggles, laughed-I was beginning to think of her laugh as not irritating, just mildly grating on the nerves-just as Ox and Kim emerged from the cafe behind us, chatting at nearly the speed of light. Lots of giggles and flirting(sadly, mostly from Ox)and all that yummy stuff. Jackie rolled her eyes at me, then slapped a big, obviously faked smile on her face as our mutual friends approached.

"So this is where you've been hiding," Kim said, all cheerful and crap and making me kind of sick to my stomach. "Wanted some alone time, did you?" She winked very conspicuously at Jackie, who groaned. "I promise you," she said, turning to me as if I actually was a part of the group and not just an unwillingly dragged along wingman. "She is not usually this nauseating. In fact, she can even pass for smart if she isn't totally infatuated with someone."

Kim blushed and squealed, "Stop it!", hanging on to Ox's arm like a life raft. Jackie shot me a look like, see what I mean?.

I crossed my arms. "We're going to miss curfew. We should go."

Ox, snapped out of his happy dating life by the reality of school, straightened. "That can't happen!" He grabbed Kim's hand, a look of scary determination on his face. "Let's run, my love!"

They ran, leaving Jackie and me in the dust. I wish I could say it was the first time this happened, but no. Jacqueline and I had kept silent, awkward company on many nights while walking back to the dorms. We were more or less used to it.

Jackie sighed and stuck her hands in her pockets.

"Did he just call her 'my love'?" I deadpanned.

"Unfortunately, yes." Jackie jiggled her leg and glanced up and down the street. Nervous behavior. "Look, uh, tell Kim that I went home a different way or something, okay? Um, no, wait-say I'm staying over at a friend's house . . . Shannon's or someone's. I gotta go."

I should have probably asked. It wasn't any of my business, though, so I just gave a noncommittal shrug and went to brush past her.

Jackie grabbed my arm, fingers tight around my bicep, surprising strength in the doll-delicate hands I'd been subconsciously admiring(no, not admiring, not anywhere close to that)seconds before. "Tell her, okay?"

"Mm."

"I'm serious, Harvar. Tell her I went to Shannon's. It's important."

Looking down into her brown eyes, I was compelled to ask. "Why?"

She huffed. "Because I just gave you a Marlboro, that's why-"

"Why are you lying to Kim?" Because I would be damned if she was sleeping over Shannon's, whoever the hell that was.

"Oh. Um." Jackie let go of my arm and stepped back, her eyes dropping to the pavement, where she scuffed one worn flip-flop and mentally ran through a list of lies that she could tell that would convince me. I waited. "I just am-I need a break, from all that crap I was telling you about earlier-"

I folded my arms. "What about the crap that you're telling me now?"

She flushed. "Okay, caught. Fine, I'm going to meet someone, and if you dare tell, I will-"

I held up my hand, silencing her. "Whatever. I don't care. Just wanted to know why I'm lying." I waited to see if she had any more inane requests, but apparently her quota for the day was used up. I ducked my head in a sort-of civil goodbye and made it past her for real.

"Thanks!" she called after me.

I shook my head. Like I had said, I didn't care.

I wasn't curious.

Nope.

So, even though it would probably land me on the Shibusen Stalker list(and, yes, we have one of those, and yes, half the student body and at least one psychotic teacher with a daughter complex has made the list), I ended up following Jackie to wherever she was meeting this "someone". Ducking down alleyways, around corners, the whole deal, all the while telling myself that I was, in a very distant way, just looking out for Ox's happiness. If Jackie was safe, then Kim was happy; if Kim was happy, then my meister was over the moon. If I thought about it long enough, it made sense, and I didn't have to admit to any actual feeling towards Jackie and her mysterious someone. Which was good, because I didn't have them.

I followed her all the way back to the school, where I felt my first prickle of genuine, non-suspicious interest. Why would she lie about not going to the school when she wanted me to lie about her already going to the school to our friends? When she was, actually, going to the school in the first place? Even for a girl, that was pretty convoluted.

She waited outside until it was well and truly dark, and my phone was buzzing nonstop with texts from Ox, who would not be put off by my brusque I'm busy replies. It was definitely after curfew. I wondered who she would be meeting, and the answer came almost at once, despite every evidence to the contrary that she'd given me. She was meeting a guy(had to be)-for a date, or "make-out" session. I shouldn't have felt anything about it, but I did. I had the slightest twinge(barely a flicker, barely worth mention)of disconcertion. Like, maybe it bothered me or something. But it really, truly didn't. I was being objective, cross-analyzing myself as I would have done with others, and finding insufficient evidence that I should in any way be bothered. Perhaps if I was struck with an obsession, like my unfortunate best friend, but I'm not so out of touch with my own heart that I wouldn't know such a thing.

Finally, Jackie was approached by a someone, and the someone was a boy, and I was unprepared by the overwhelming urge to crush him that seized me. I could slam his head into the pavement, maybe, or swing him by the legs into the nearest wall . . . hanging him from one of Shibusen's spires by his just-visible tighty whities would be fun, too. But that was totally irrational, obsession or not.

The guy was average build, coloring, and etc., and if it weren't for the fact that he was wearing one of our seven school uniforms, I wouldn't believe that he was a student at the Academy at all. He looked so . . . ordinary. He greeted Jackie, and the two of them lit up cigarettes. I wondered if she was aware of the damage that constant smoking had on her health-and surely she couldn't manage to be a pack-a-day and still keep Kim in the dark about it?

After that, the two of them started kissing. And stuff. I started to feel like a real pervert, watching them carry on, and it just got worse, until I wanted to scream at them to get a room and save my damn eyes before they melted.

The guy said something in a low murmur. His back was to me, and I could just see Jackie's face over his shoulder. It was pale, uncertain, but after a pause she nodded and they started heading off down the street. Not about to give up already, I trailed after them.

They walked for a few blocks, Jackie a couple of steps behind her male friend-I didn't want to think of him as a "boyfriend", for some reason-until they came to a hotel.

Seriously. They had to be kidding me.

No, no, no, no, no-the word spiraled around my head until I realized that I was whispering it under my breath, too. Every single one of my brain cells was rejecting the idea of Jackie going into a hotel with that creep, and I couldn't explain why, only that it annoyed me because not half an hour ago she was going on to me about how she was done with guys and dating, yet here she was. With a guy, and dating.

If a cheap hotel could be called a date.

My feet were speeding up; if I wasn't careful, they'd see me. What would I say then? I forced myself to slow down and think rationally. It was none of my business, what Jacqueline wanted to do in her free time. It was none of my business that she obviously intended to spend the night with a boy who was clearly too old, too experienced, and too hair-gelled to deserve her time.

I didn't care.

All I had to do was turn around and go back to the dorm; Ox was waiting, and it was long past curfew, and I would be damned if stalking Jackie Dupre got me landed in detention. The situation was embarrassing enough without me having to explain myself.

But then I noticed how her steps were lagging, how she kept glancing up at the hotel with reluctance. I tasted ash on my tongue; unconsciously, I sped up again.

"Jackie."

She stopped, turned. Her whole face dawned with shock. "Harvar, what-what the hell are you doing? Did you follow me?"

"Are you going in with him?" I gestured to the building before us.

"Th-that-that's none of your business!" she spluttered, which was as much as I had guessed.

"It's against school rules," I improvised. "That makes it my business." She looked skeptical, so I kept talking. "As members of Spartoi, we are supposed to be an example to the rest of the school. If even the elite teams are breaking the rules, what's to stop everyone from rebelling?"

Jackie's male friend(still not thinking boyfriend, not even if you paid me)came up to us, clearly confused and a little annoyed. "Whats going on? Who are you?" He looked at me as though he'd never been aware of my existence, and I gritted my teeth so that I wouldn't say something out of line. His very face was a blight to my eyes.

"This is Harvar; he's a classmate," Jackie explained rapidly. "He was just leaving."

No, I wasn't. "No, I wasn't," I said.

"He was," she said pointedly, glaring at me.

"I don't really care, baby," the guy whined. "Let's just go in already." Casting a suspicious glance at me, he added in an undertone, "Haven't you kept me waiting long enough?"

I moved forwards, instinctively placing myself between them. "She isn't required to sleep with you," I pointed out.

"She's my girlfriend," he said obstinately. "What else is she good for?"

I wish that I could say that I punched him; unfortunately, the honor goes to Jacqueline, who socked him so hard that he turned half a somersault in midair before landing on his rear end, Peanuts style. She then stormed off, back in the direction of the school, and I sprinted after her.

"I am not thanking you!" she shouted at me, whirling around after we were a good distance away from the hotel. "You had no right to interfere!"

I stared at her, and then rolled my eyes. I hadn't been looking for a thank you, anyway. It was all her fault to begin with, for getting involved with a jerkoff like that.

"And I was going to break up with him anyway!" she screamed. "And why did you follow me? And why did you care?! Maybe I wanted to have sex with him, huh?! Maybe I didn't want to hear something like that from him, did you ever think about that?"

I didn't understand. Either she was going to break up with him, or she wasn't and didn't want to be hurt by his uncaring. She couldn't be mad at me for both; she shouldn't be mad at me for either. "I didn't do anything," I finally said, when it became clear that she wanted to hear something from me.

"You were there!" She battered me with her fists, face scrunching up. Abruptly, she began to cry. "Why were you there?" she sobbed.

In the movies, male protagonists fearlessly embrace sobbing princesses; but Jackie was no princess and I wasn't comfortable patting her back, let alone hugging her. I settled for pulling a crumpled pack of tissues from my pocket and offering her one. She took it, a half-smile breaking through her tears. "Of c-course you have tissues," she mumbled.

Obviously. Always be prepared.

"In just a few seconds, you ruined my entire relationship," she accused after a period of awkward standing and crying(I was standing; she was crying. While sitting on a curb. Very dramatic stuff).

"Last I checked, it was the other guy who was the asshole that just wanted to get in your pants," I observed.

"Shut up!" Jackie stood up and went to hit me again; this time, I dodged. There were only so many blows for the good of humanity that I could take before my patience ran out. "Alan is a good guy, a normal guy!"

"Then why aren't you sniveling to him?!" I snapped. "Why isn't he the prick standing here uselessly while you whine?" I couldn't say why it got to me so bad-only that it did, and that Jackie's face darkened and I remembered that she could probably burn me to a crisp if the fancy took her.

"You're horrible!" she said, words choked by frustration and tears. "Why are you so horrible?"

I shrugged. "Go on. Take your anger out on me."

"I hate you!" she screamed, and somehow that made her seem the victim for the first time that whole evening. The girl who had confidently mocked me about wearing sunglasses and lit up my cigarette with a flick of her finger was gone; in her place was someone sad and, if I was honest, pathetic.

I gave in, finally, to the movie-cliche urge to hug the crying heroine. I fully expected her to resist, maybe sock me into the nearest building or char me into something to roast marshmallows over, but instead she flung her arms around me, digging her fingers into the back of my jacket and starting a full-on sob that convinced me that she'd only been warming up before.

Girls. All I can say.

I sort of patted her back, matting down her long hair with one of my hands, which suddenly seemed so large in comparison to the girl with her cheek on my chest. I never thought I was a particularly big guy before, or that Jackie was small(her attitude more than made up for it), but standing so close, I practically felt like the Hulk. The moon mocked us overhead, us two teenagers who had no idea what we wanted or how to get it, and I glared up at the moon with half of a mind to tell it that, if it really wanted a laugh, then maybe it should come on down and try to be one of us for a change. I was thinking crazy, of course; but when during the night hadn't I been?

Bells tolled out the hour, and on the ground, I patted Jackie's back and waited for the crying to abate. I couldn't be certain, but I thought we had probably missed our curfew.