Summary: "If at any point you wanna bail, get food, or go get me food…" - Ryder to Jake, 4x8, "Thanksgiving." Requested by: Tara621

Prompt: Salsa

What Mike Chang didn't tell Ryder was exactly how much energy dancing took. Up until then, Ryder had always danced for fun. His end zone dances mostly. Those were great, and they lifted everyone's moods…well…except Coach Beiste's…

Anyway, dance was exhausting. Especially this Gangnam Style, which Ryder had never heard of. If he had, maybe learning the lyrics would have come a little easier. At least he had Jake to help him with the moves.

A few hours into rehearsal and Ryder was so hungry. He didn't know how his cousin, or Marley, or anyone could voluntarily starve themselves. His metabolism was super fast. Probably making up for his problems in other areas. Like anything at all in the academic area.

"Dude, I know you thought I was kidding…" Ryder gasped, leaning over to catch his breath. "But now would be a really good time for some food, if you know what I mean."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "What do you want me to do? I'm already helping you with your moves. You got legs. If you want food, get your own."

"Fine, I will," Ryder said, taking a long drink from his water bottle and heading offstage. It wasn't two minutes before Jake was behind him.

"You want me to get my own food, but you're gonna come anyway?" Ryder asked.

"What the hell am I gonna do by myself in an empty auditorium?" Jake snapped. "Only reason I'm there is to help you learn this dance."

Ryder shrugged. "I don't know… You could always work on some of those twirls you were doing earlier," he smirked.

"Shut up. They're not twirls. It's a tour en l'air."

"That means nothing to me," Ryder said good-naturedly on his way out to the student parking lot. "Now, about this food…" he stopped short. "Oh, hold up. Just had a epic realization."

"Which is?" Jake asked, his arms crossed.

Ryder broke into a run. "I have the most amazing homemade salsa in my car!"

"That is seriously disturbing. You can't keep salsa in your car, dude, it'll grow mold and be all nasty," Jake wrinkled his nose.

"In the winter, you can. I know it's not technically winter yet, but the end of November is really close. Trust me, my car's like a refrigerator, and the heat doesn't even work," Ryder reassured, unlocking the door and retrieving the jar from his back seat. "See?" he asked, tossing it to Jake. "Totally good."

"Then please tell me you have some chips in there…"

Ryder felt around in the back seat, until he found what he was looking for. Because no one was there to catch them, he brought the food back into the auditorium.

Jake scowled, seeing the chips in the light for the first time, instead of the dim parking lot. "Seriously? Don't tell me your chips are homemade, too…"

"They're not."

"They're blue," Jake pointed out, a little freaked out.

"Yeah, and they're also delicious," Ryder insisted, reaching in the bag and grabbing a handful. He spoke around a mouthful. "Thanks for helping me out with this."

"Anytime," Jake shrugged, fist-bumping Ryder. "You'd do the same for me, right? …You'd better do the same for me," he said trying to sound tough, but a smile threatened.

"Yeah. Totally," Ryder returned easily. "Ugh…" he groaned, stretching out until he was lying on his back. "Now I all I want is some tacos…."

"What? You don't keep those in your car, too?"

"Funny," Ryder said, getting to his feet.

"I know a place that's got kick-ass salsa…and burritos the size of newborn babies…" Jake shared conspiratorially.

"Awesome. Lead the way."

"I am. And while we're driving, I'm gonna quiz you on K-pop dance moves…" Jake smirked.

"Can't we take a break?"

"What do you call this?!" Jake insisted.

"Dinner is not a break," Ryder pointed out.

"Okay, but don't come crying to me when you fall on your ass onstage in front of everybody Thursday…"

Ryder sighed. "Fine. Quiz me."