Chapter three: Jon
5:36 AM
Suds spiraled around the drain, and Jon had found himself staring at nothing in particular. He could hear the shower running, and feel the water, but he was too far gone. Far too tired. He had been up for hours, but didn't feel the desire to move. But he did twist the small chrome knob whenever the water threatened to grow colder. Maybe it was just the weight of responsibility? Naw. That sounds like something shitty first-rate poets would recite, and let's face it, Jon was no poet.
"Jon!" A knock sounded at the door, and Theon's voice yelled over the running water. "Mom wants you to shave your face! Hey- Jon?"
"I heard you!" He sputtered past the water that ran over his lips. His voice had risen with anger, perhaps it was at the fact that Theon could call Cat 'Mom', or maybe it was because he was tired for no reason. But in the end, it was because he was too comfortable in the steam and resented being rushed.
"Hurry up, Robb's got to get in there!" Theon passed the warning through the walls, and Jon could hear Robb defending him, probably because he was playing a video game contently, and was in no mood to set down the controller.
"Leave him alone Theon, probably takes a long time to shampoo those luscious locks."
Jon clambered out of the tub, twisting until the water stream had died away. He picked up his fresh towel and ran it over his head, drying his body in a way that could only be described as 'half-assed'. He was proud of the shape he was in, mainly because he worked at it every day; not for any girl, just himself. Though his ex-girlfriend Ygritte didn't shy away from the compliments- that was the great thing about her. No, that's a lie. The great thing about her was how brutally honest and down-to-earth she was. Kissed by Fire.
She broke it off with him several months ago, and if she had wanted him back- if she had asked for him, he would return to her faithfully. He was still in love, but she would never want him again. Too wild for his own good.
He wiped the steam from the mirror, and the razor sat idly in his palm. Shave your face, a voice demanded, if you don't succeed in anything today- you will know that you did shave; your own personal victory. But he didn't, wrapping a towel around his waist, and exiting the bathroom.
"Finally," Robb droned, but still made no movement for the bathroom. His eyes were locked intensely on the television screen, and for a while, all of the boys watched it in silence. Jon relished in the cool air, but suddenly noticed the clothes lounging neatly on his bed.
" 't the hell is that?" He played with the outfit in disgust, turning to Theon, who appeared identically as puzzled about his own set of clothes.
"Mum put those there," Robb cleared his throat, adjusting his position on the floor, but simply because his rear was going numb. "We have to wear them to class."
"I'm not a fucking child- I mean, she can't baby us forever," Jon appeared more upset than the other boys, maybe it was because the outfit Cat had picked for him was actually horrendous. He picked up the flannel shirt and pressed it to his bare chest. "I'm gonna get my ass kicked in this."
The door flew open, and Cat stood in the doorway, Theon clambered towards his bed and covered his shame with the discarded towel. Immediately she was flushed in disappointment, for two of the boys were still in towels and one had yet to bathe. She snaked her hand behind the television and began pulling out random plugs, stopping when the screen had run blue.
"NO! Mum! Why did you do that?Ugh!" Robb pulled on his hair, but Cat would have none of it. She pointed to the bathroom, and he vanished inside of it like a wounded dog, whimpering about all of his lost progress. Jon was a sitting duck, becoming her next target.
"Jonathan! Get dressed! You don't want to be late for your first day! Chop-chop!"
He cringed at the use of that name, mostly because it wasn't his name, and secondly because she used it over him in a domineering kind of way. "Cat- I can't wear these. They're just… I really can't."
"Yes you can, and you will." She turned to the cowering Theon, "you! Don't think I've forgot about you! Get dressed. Your Aunt Lysa sent you these clothes, and personally, I think they're darling. And Jon, after Robb has finished, I want you back in there to shave."
And with that, she retreated, but not quick enough to hear Jon mutter under his breath. "…she's not my Aunt."
Cat's face boiled with rage, and she shut the door with an extreme force, causing Robb to nearly slip in the shower. Theon slid on some boxer shorts, sneering over his shoulder at Jon, "now you've done it. Just wear the stupid fucking clothes and act like you're happy about it."
Jon dug through his underwear drawer, stopping with a sigh. "I guess it's not as bad as all that. I could roll up the sleeves and keep the top unbuttoned…but those trousers would look better in a fire place- burning."
"They're not that bad," Theon admitted.
"Yes they are," Jon countered, lifting them up to the other boy, "want 'em?"
"No. You're right," he pulled a sweater over his head, suffocating in it for a second. "It does belong in the fire."
6:42 AM
All the children began to depart for school, kissing both of their parents before walking towards the road. Jon apologized to Cat, kissing her cheek before turning towards Ned for a hearty hug. Sansa took the longest to get ready, but only because her father would make her change her clothes into something more practical, and grumble something along the lines of 'are you crazy? It's 34 degrees out there, where's your coat?' She was at that age, now, and Ned feared that the skirts were only going to recede more.
"Arya! Sansa! You take your brothers' hand, and stay together!" Catelyn shouted across the farm, quickly adding in a tender 'I love you!'
Jon prepped his gloved hand, because he was Arya's favorite. And she pounced on it a second later, trying to test her brother's strength by dragging along in the dirt. Theon took her other hand, and she didn't resist, because now she could swing between the two. Rickon was too young for school, and Bran felt too ill to be moved, leaving the five siblings to walk together to the Landing.
"I'm too old for hand holding." Sansa argued, fixing her arms across her chest; but took Jon and Robb's hands anyway, after receiving hurt puppy-glances. Although it tended to be embarrassing, especially in the boy's high school years, it was just the Stark family tradition. They always traveled in packs.
"Oh look!" A voice jested, "holding hands?! How romantic!"
No one needed to look for validation, it was clear the voice was Joffery's. Sansa dropped their hands, smiling towards the boy, squinting at whatever sunshine his shadow did not hide.
"I thought incest was your family's specialty," Theon returned, lifting an eyebrow at the figure and chewing his gum aloofly. Jon looked at Robb, both of their mouths were dropped in surprise, and little Arya laughed much too hard.
"Stop laughing!" He demanded as he slipped down the small dewy hill, catching himself on the fence. "Stop it! All of you!"
Sansa begged them to stop, but the gang marched on with aching cheeks. Arya tugged on her sister's arm, but received a shove in return.
"Come Arya," Jon called, extending his glove clad hand, "leave her be. I'm sure Joffery will get her to school safely. Right, Joffery?"
Joffery lowered his eyes at him, and it was evident that he was tempted to call him a 'bastard'. Grabbing Sansa's arm, he lead her into the Lannister ranch to wait patiently beside his mother's van. Because he was much too precious to do his own walking.
Upon entering the Landing, Robb and Theon immediately started towards the college but stopped when they realized that Jon had not been pursuing them.
"Sansa's not here," He brushed his dark curls from his eyes, "I better walk Arya to school."
"Don't be late on your first day," Theon teased, his attention moved towards the women eating at the front. And Robb waved them off.
"I thought you were going to join the Army?" Arya stared at the college until she could no longer see the other boys.
"Your mother had other plans."
"But I told all of my friends- they ask me about you all the time," she tightened her grip on his wrist, dragging her boots through the muddy water pooling on the ground, "they see you running in the morning- I tell 'em you're training."
"Well. I tell you what," he scratched his growing beard with his free hand, and pulling her up onto the cleaner sidewalk with the other, "if I hate the classes- hate the teacher- hate my fellow classmates. I'll go to the office today."
"Serious?!" Arya bounced, and Jon wasn't sure if she knew what it meant to sell your life away. But he adored her more than anything, and as long as she was proud of him, he was happy. Besides, he had been pushing it off for too long, thinking the day he would have to be responsible for his own future would never come. But it had, at 19 years old. And even if he had loved the classes, the teachers, the classmates- he would still sign up. Because it was his choice, whereas the school was Cat's.
"Mhm. Our little secret though, okay?" And it was silently signed with a nod.
Her school was just past the crooked stop sign, which Jon could not see due to the growing crowds. It was a small town, but the local business men bustling to work around the slower tourists really added up in the morning. He looked up and spotted the rooftop from earlier, spotting a man's face in the girl's window and he appeared to be nailing it shut. How unfortunate, all for the best I suppose. But the man's face twisted at the sight of Jon, and disappeared in a blink.
He tried his hardest not to read too much into it, but the man's face was not one so easily forgotten. He looked as if he had wanted to kill him- as if the sight of the boy had conjured up the rage of a great beast. Arya's cold nose and lips pressed into Jon's cheek in a farewell, running through other kids to reach her friend Lommy. An alarm went off inside Jon's pocket, and his phone made it very clear that he was late.
7:41 AM
The door flung open to a silent classroom, and every head turned towards the sound of a metal object bouncing off the wall. Jon shuffled in with wind-kissed cheeks and messy hair, panting towards the back as the teacher eyed him. What an ugly thing they put up to the task of teaching. A dwarf, with mis-matched eyes and infamously gold hair, stood at podium drinking from a leather-covered canteen. Jon was no stranger to this man; he was Tyrion Lannister of the Lannister Ranch and Oil. The teen despised run-ins with the Halfling, mainly because he would ask him questions that always resulted in Jon feeling like an idiot. It didn't help that the man taught a large majority of the classes, all ranging from English to History to Mathematics.
"Class starts at 7:35, not whenever you feel like it, Mr. Stark." His voice boomed over the student's heads, and creating silent giggles from them. "Please take a seat and ask your peers for the page number while I waste my time fixing the attendance list."
Jon drew up a chair beside the only familiar face in the room, who at this time was flicking paper pieces into a girl's curly hair. "Psst. Theon. What's the page number?"
"I dunno." He answered truthfully, transfixed on the female seated in front of him, making clicking noises as if she were some animal that could be beckoned. Jon groaned and looked to his left. No use, she was asleep on her bag. Honestly, why do people bother even paying for these classes? He reached forward and stopped. Beside the poor girl Theon was currently tormenting, was a sweater clad girl with silver hair tied atop her head. He tapped her bare neck, getting an immediate reaction.
"Excuse me- do you have the page number?" She stared for a second, narrowing her eyes at him- but suddenly they were wide with realization.
"Page…" She turned towards her book because she wasn't too sure, "page 38A- it's the section on pronouns and adjectives."
"Thanks." He sat back in his seat and smiled warmly at her. She wasn't too bad when she was wearing street clothes- if fact, she looked very good, and now he was biting his lip and gawking at her as a man usually does to a woman. She was actually pretty enough to chase Ygritte from his mind, but it didn't last. Both Theon and Jon bothering the girls at the table in front of them drew some very unwanted attention.
"Hey- Stark, Greyjoy. This is English 101, not E-Harmony." Called Tyrion from the board, "keep your hands to yourselves or else you'll be sitting in the corner. On time out." Laughter ensued.
The man extended his small hands to the class, taking the boys embarrassment and turning it into a lecture, "you are not children! You are all to be responsible for your own actions. You will take my class, try your hardest to pass it, and if not- you will be kicked out, like an Adult. Everyone understand? Good. Page 38A…"
The silver haired girl wrote something quickly, sliding it over to her friend who was pulling the last bit of trash out of her hair. Jon could read it from where he sat, for her writing was large and bubbly.
'That's the weirdo who read my diary.'
"What- no I didn't." He whispered to her, desperately trying to defend himself against being known as the class pervert who digs through girl's journals.
"Yes you did." She flipped herself around to face him, thick eyebrows lowered over her purple eyes. "You picked it up and read it."
"Well- I didn't mean to- who writes on a roof anyway?" Jon didn't even realize how loud he had gotten, only when her face had dropped and all the chairs creaked with twisting and attentive peers.
"Mr. Stark. I warned you, this is strike one. Please pack up your things and vacate this classroom- perhaps when you return you would have learned your lesson."
