This story is dedicated to Madeline, aka chasingafterstarlight (I think.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious.
A whiff of heavy cologne cut through the aroma of coffee permeating the air. At the same time, the chair across from hers at the table for two she currently occupied squeaked across the floor as it was dragged out and then pushed back in.
Jade West glanced up from the book she had been reading, a brilliant novelization of The Scissoring, and met the eyes of a smiling boy.
Creepy. Not to mention rude. Nobody just sits down across from someone they don't know and stares at them like that.
Despite being slightly unnerved by the intensity of his gaze, she resolved not to be immediately hostile and offered him a lip-twitch of a smile in return. His seemingly unceasing grin stretched even wider before contracting to allow him to speak.
"I saw you were sitting alone…" His voice trailed off as she fixed him with a curious, examining stare, taking in his features. His hair, carefully mussed to make it look casually windswept, was a shade of blonde far too bright to be natural. A quick glance at his eyes made her almost certain that the blue was the result of colored contacts; there was a translucent ring around the iris that gave him away. Even his tanned skin looked fake; the bronze carried a faint shade of orange that she knew from experience was the result of a botched spray-tan. The necklace of dark wooden beads hooked around his neck solidified it in her mind; this was a classic example of a wannabe surfer.
…This guy looks like he stepped out of a poster for some cheesy beachwear shop.
As Jade glanced up, the corners of his mouth lifted in another smile, and he lifted the two hand that had been under the table to reveal that they held two takeout cups of coffee. In a single fluid motion, he leaned over, placed one in front of her, and lifted his hand as though expecting a handshake.
She stared blankly at the boy's hand for a second as it wavered in the air, debating on whether or not to flash a ferocious glare and make him withdraw. Deciding to humor this grinning stranger, she took the proffered hand and firmly shook it once; after releasing, she surreptitiously wiped the residue of his sweaty palms on her jeans.
"So, um…you're from Hollywood Arts, right? I could see by the patch on your bag." The undertone of wavering nervousness in his voice faded to a barely discernible level as she nodded, giving a wry smile. Her well-worn messenger bag had split at the seams a month or two ago, prompting Beck, the Canadian MacGyver (as she liked to call him- rather, had liked to call him), to stitch it shut. At her insistence (he had used pink thread, for goodness' sake), he had covered the repairs with an iron-on patch of their school's "HA" logo.
"I just auditioned to go there a few weeks ago…the new principal is really harsh, though. Eikner said he'd pull some strings to let me in, but now that he's gone…it's like the school is Helen's kingdom or something."
Taking frequent sips of the coffee during his tale and restraining a grimace at the taste- there was something, indefinable though it was, wrong with its flavor- Jade was surprised to feel a tiny strain of pity for the boy. His story was the sad refrain of so many hopefuls straining to get into the school; with Helen's high standards, however, many of those who auditioned and possessed actual performing talent were turned away.
"I'm…sorry to hear that." Jade blinked in surprise, vaguely troubled by the sympathetic words that had flowed so easily from her tongue. They tasted subtly wrong in her mouth.
What's wrong with me? …Maybe there's something in the coffee…Something that makes people all sugary-sweet and nice. Like Vega.
The boy grinned easily, seemingly untroubled by having to recount the tale of his rejection. "I got into Sherwood and I'm the lead in a pretty cool band now, so it's no big deal. By the way, I'm Greg…sorry I forgot to introduce myself properly." His right hand twitched up to his temple in the painfully familiar form of the two-finger salute previously favored by none other than Beck Oliver.
She accepted the gesture with a cool nod. "Jade." Despite her laid-back demeanor, the back of her neck prickled with goosebumps and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, swallowing the rest of her drink in an attempt to avoid speaking. As she tilted her cup in an attempt to lick up the last few drops, a sludge of partially dissolved fake sweetener hit her tongue instead. Trying not to gag, she stood up and hurried over to a nearby trash can, throwing the cup away and wishing she could spit to wipe the horrible taste of chemicals from her tongue.
If only he'd used real sugar. Something that doesn't make you gag or supposedly die of cancer…
Despite the slime lingering on her tongue through many swallows, Jade kept a straight face, pretending to idly check her phone as she walked back over to the table where Greg was waiting. Her eyes widened in fake surprise as she swiped over the screen a few times, and she glanced up to deliver an excuse (other than the uncomfortable memories of that damn Canadian surging back from her memory and the fact that the taste of the coffee pretty much killed her good mood) as to her sudden departure.
"Um, I'm sorry but I have to go, I just remembered that I have a…rehearsal for a play I'm in at school in like, fifteen minutes…" And though she was Jade West and could feed untruths to anyone without a hint of remorse, the lie stumbled from her tongue as thick and slow as the oversweetened coffee from before. A pang of guilt rushed through her as Greg's face fell momentarily. He quickly plastered a crooked grin over the disappointment; a sugary smile, a saccharine smirk. Like the chemical-laden dregs at the bottom of her discarded cup, it seemed artificial, a poor substitute for the real thing.
**/\**
Shouldering her way through the doors of the coffee shop, Jade smacked against the chest of someone tall who'd been walking towards her. As she extricated herself from the flannel shirt they were wearing, an all-too-familiar voice spoke her name.
"Jade?" Looking up in to the unshaven, bemused face of none other than Beck Oliver, she sighed. "Oliver," she greeted him in her iciest tone. The corner of his mouth briefly twitched up in a crooked smile that she loved but had always pretended to hate, and those stupid memories were coming back- the ones that had turned her into a sobbing wreck on that fateful night, and threatened to do so again.
Beck scratched the back of his neck, seeming unusually flustered. "Um, I- I didn't expect to see you here." Jade crossed her arms, confused at the loss of his usual calm. "The feeling is mutual."
Beck opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she cut him off. "That's coffee, right?" She asked, motioning to the cup in his hand.
"Yeah, but…" His voice trailed off as she snatched the still-hot coffee from his hand before striding away, combat boots clomping on the pavement. Just before she reached her car, she glanced back at him with a mischievous smirk before raising the coffee in a mock toast, getting in the vehicle and swiftly pulling away. Beck watched her drive out of sight with a small smile; she truly was one of a kind.
**/\**
As Jade reached her house, she took the final sip of her stolen coffee; the familiar, strong taste cleansed the sickly-sweet chemicals from her mouth, flooding her senses with the dark, real sweetness of sugar.
And it tasted right.