Sansa waited by Jeyne's locker, staring at her chipped nail polish. She was going to have redo it. It wasn't cute to walk around with busted nails. Gods, that was just wrong. It reminded her of middle school and when Sandra Black never retouched her nails and was always biting them off and spitting them out-ugh, Sansa was feeling nauseated just thinking about it. How that girl ended up with one of the hottest guys at North Winterfell High was beyond her.
Ten minutes passed and still no sign of Jeyne. Sansa considered just texting her but ended up just staring at her phone in boredom. She scrolled down Facebook, occasionally rolling her eyes at the basic posts her eyes were subjected to. Sure, she was pretty basic herself, but double standards didn't exist in her world of Sansa Land. A few more minutes passed unnoticed until Sansa snapped out of her social media trance and looked around the hallway.
The only reason why she was standing around Jeyne's ungodly locker was so she could tell her about Bran. But of course, the girl was taking her sweet ass time today. Sansa was doing this out of the goodness of her heart, but even she wasn't that nice for this long. She sighed and decided to wait anyway.
Better the truth come from her best friend instead of finding out later, right? Right. Because what if she fell in love with Bran? Sansa can already picture Jeyne coming to her with tears in her eyes and a tub of ice cream, ready to sob on her shoulder over her gay little brother.
Jeyne came around the corner then, smiling with Margaery on her arm. Sansa thought they both looked really cute today. Jeyne's long, dark brown hair tied in braids, with a cute bow holding it all together and Margaery letting her hair fall in thick curls. She took a moment to appreciate her friends, glad that they were all attractive like her.
Jeyne saw her other red headed friend and smiled in shock. "Sansa! What a surprise!" Jeyne cheered.
Sansa smiled at her two best friends. "Yes, yes, the queen is here."
"Oh, shut up, I'm the queen," Margaery said, folding her arms and stomping her foot.
"You're head is big enough for the crown," Sansa teased.
They both laughed.
"But, really, you're usually long gone," Jeyne said while opening her creaky locker. "What's up?"
"Well," Sansa drawled. "I need to tell you something. And you need to believe me."
Jeyne's eyebrows furrowed and she gave the red haired girl a strange look. "Okay...?"
Sansa took a deep breath. Do it quickly. Like ripping off a band aid. "Bran's not into you."
Jeyne's eyebrows shot up. "W-what?"
"That's random," Margaery mumbled.
"Well it's true. I'm sorry, I really, really am. But he's...not into...girls." Sansa felt a little bad about spreading Bran's business (also because she wasn't 100 percent sure) but she didn't want her best friend to get hurt.
"I knew it," Margaery said. "Poor boy never had a girlfriend, never even looked at a girl. Even though he is at perfect eye level to all the girls butts."
Sansa glared at her. "Not helping, Margaery."
"Sorry." She didn't look or sound sorry.
Jeyne made a frustrated sound. "Sansa what are you talking about? Why are you telling me that Bran's gay?"
She gave her best friend a look that said please-stop-talking-and-just-listen. "Because you like him and I don't want you getting hurt." What part of that didn't she understand?
"Sansa...I," she sighed. "I don't like Bran. If I liked any of your brothers it would be Robb. He's hot and has a beard."
"Small beard," Margaery mumbled. "Rickon's a sweetheart, though. I'd wait for him," she said wistfully, looking away at something the other girls couldn't see.
Sansa, momentarily disturbed by what she just heard, frowned deeply. "Wait, you don't have feelings for Bran?"
Jeyne shook her head, looking at Sansa like she was crazy. Rightfully so. It was strange of her to make such assumptions like this. And usually if she did, she was right. "No. He's not really my type," she chuckled, albeit awkwardly.
"It's the wheelchair. If he weren't in it, would you?"
Jeyne looked flustered and probably a little embarrassed. "Honestly, no. He's weird and quiet. Plus, he's a sophomore. Sure he's cute, but, he seems just, I dunno, strange.."
Margaery lifted a finger. "It is called gaydar, my dear."
Sansa let out a relieved sigh. "Well what the fuck? Why did I think you had a crush on someone?" Sansa laughed breathlessly, running her hand through her hair.
"I do..." Jeyne blushed and looked into her old locker to get away from both Sansa and Margaery's intense looks.
Sansa stopped laughing at once. "Who? Spill. Now."
Margaery gripped Jeyne's arm. "Who is it? Boy?" She wiggled her perfect eyebrows and smirked. "Girl?"
"Boy," she whispered shyly.
"Wel,l who is it? We don't have all day!"
Jeyne looked at them both, a shy smile on her lips. "You can't tell anyone."
"Yes, yes, we know."
"Alright." She took a deep breath as if she were about to do the scariest thing in her life. "Jojen."
Sansa tried to hide the confused what-the-hell expression. Jojen? Like that was any better. She wasn't trying to sell Jojen short. But from what she's seen, Jojen's just was weird as Bran. Why was Jojen better than Bran?
Margaery fist pumped the air. "Ha, ha, I knew it!"
"What do you mean you knew?" Jeyne looked even redder, if that was possible.
"I saw you giving him the eye in first hour."
Jeyne covered her face with her hands. "I'm so embarrassed! Do you think he saw?"
Margaery shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Gods no. He was way too into whatever he was writing."
"Hold on," Sansa broke her silence. "Why do you have a thing for him?"
Jeyne's big brown eyes were melting as she speaks about him. "He's mega cute and has the most beautiful green eyes in the whole world. His voice is glorious. And he likes to write so I bet he's romantic. And he smells good. And that blond hair...yeah." Jeyne's face was so red she looked like a cherry.
Margaery shook her head and was giving Jeyne a sympathetic look. "Girls got it bad."
"Is that smart? Jojen looked pretty comfortable wrapped around Bran." The blond looked especially happy when Bran rested his head on his shoulder.
Jeyne sighed. "I know. Why does this happen to me?"
By that she meant Why do I always like the gay boys? Jeyne had this problem with liking all the guys who were irrevocably unobtainable. Like Jojen Reed. Like Loras Tyrell. Like Jon.
She did like guys that weren't gay but completely uninterested in her. Like Robb. And she even had a thing for Gendry, because he's, in her words, ruggedly handsome and those blue eyes just speak to her heart strings, or some shit like that.
Sansa just shrugged. "You like well groomed guys, not your fault they're mostly always gay."
Jeyne's head hung. "Forever. Alone."
Sansa met Margaery's eyes and they nodded. They hugged Jeyne's skinny body and cooed in her ear. "It'll be fine. You'll find the perfect man," and Margaery added, "or girl."
"Thanks," she muttered. "Let's go." Jeyne and Margaery left and Sansa slowly followed them she was in no rush since her dad was going to be a bit late.
She sat alone at the front stairs, absently picking at her nails. It wasn't even five minutes before someone came to bug her. Someone she wasn't expecting.
"Hey, little bird."
Sansa lifted her head at the gruff voice. Sandor stood a few away from her. One of his large hands was stuffed in his jacket pocket while the other was hanging limply at his side. The breeze shifted his hair away from the scarred side of his face and he hastily moved to fix it.
She didn't know what to say to him. Hi Sandor? How's it going? Beat up any kids today?
He seemed fine to continue. "You see Joffrey? Need to give the little shit a ride home," he started to step closer to her. With every step, her heart would pound erratically.
It took her a minute to concentrate. Sandor couldn't just show up out of nowhere after being gone all day. He couldn't just ask her questions like they were friends and call her boyfriend a little shit and stand in front of her like they were cool. Like, who the fuck are you?
"No, he didn't show up at my locker after school." Not that I was at my locker myself. Sansa leaned back to be able to look the tall guy in the face. He was frowning, like always.
"Fuck that prick," he growled vehemently as if the words were poison he was spitting out, looking up at the cloudy sky like it just took a shit on his day.
"Why don't you just quit?" She tried for casual but her insides were shaking. That question seemed almost dangerous to her.
He glared at her, the right side of his face crumpled in agitation. "Fuck would I do that? It pays well, even though the kid is a nasty little bitch all the time."
"You always have the best names for him." Sansa smiled a bit, unsure of why she said that. She loved Joffrey...well, she thought she should love him at least, even though deep down she agreed with Sandor and Arya. "Reminds me of my sister."
Sandor grunted like a pissed off wild animal. Jeez, this guy was just pulsing with anger. Sansa could feel the heat rolling off his skin. He gave a disdainful look over his shoulder before moving to sit next to her.
Sansa adjusted her bag, feeling almost uncomfortable but not quite sure what it was she was feeling. She remembered how Sandor called her little bird and color stained her cheeks.
"Why are you here so late?"
That shocked her. He was actually making normal conversation with her for once. This, she thought, will probably end horribly. But despite that she replied back anyway.
"My dad had some appointment that ran late or some bullshit." Sansa made herself feel awkward at the fact that this was the first time they've been alone together. She tried to remember if there was any other time but her mind was coming up blank. It made her nervous as if this shouldn't be happening, that they shouldn't be alone together. Gods, what was her problem?
"Why are you alone? You're usually with all those screeching bitches or your shitty siblings."
She wondered if he could have a decent conversation without swearing so much. But that wasn't the point...Sandor noticed her? Well, of course he did. She was the cutest girl in school. But she didn't think that was it. She felt a fluttering feeling in her stomach, and it wasn't cramps. She really wasn't surprised that Sandor would ruin that observation by being an ass.
"My friends are all gone," she informed testily, her face red from anger this time. "And I have no idea where Arya and Bran are. And they aren't shitty, most of the time."
Sandor huffed disdainfully, crossing his arms over his knees and glaring at the pavement. "I don't like the cripple boy. Always runs over my feet."
"Then get out of his way. His chair isn't going to shrink," she snapped. Yeah, she might not get along with her siblings all the time, but Starks stick together, regardless. And she wasn't going to let some low-life talk shit about her little brother.
Sandor glared at her for a long time. "You're a real bitch, you know that?"
Sansa's face flushed with anger. "No one asked you to talk to me." She gathered her things and stood. She planned on walking away and waiting at the curb, but she already saw her dad's truck about to turn.
"Wait. I didn't mean it like that. Fuck, don't get your panties in a bunch." She heard him stand up but she knew he wasn't going to come closer to her.
Sansa was still annoyed. Didn't mean it like that, my ass. And my panties are fine. She glared at him from over her shoulder. "Then what did you mean?"
Sandor opened his mouth to say something but looked over his shoulder as Arya came out the school. He closed his mouth as she walked passed. Arya gave him a dirty look and stood next to Sansa.
"What's the Hound doing just standing there?" She asked but really didn't seem to care. "Weird asshole."
Ned drove up and waited for his kids to get in. The sounds of the radio drifted towards them. It was just awful.
"Just get in." Sansa hissed under her breath.
"Fine." Arya sulked in the passenger seat, without a fight for the first time ever.
Sansa didn't question why Arya was so compliant. She probably did it so she wouldn't have to fight for the seat. She looked back at Sandor expectantly.
"You're alright, little bird."
Sansa felt a shocked smile replace her frown.
"Sansa! Get your ass in the car!"
Fuck, Arya. Stupid little sister. She glared at her horsefaced sister and stuck her tongue out at her like a child. Arya just flipped her off.
Sandor was already walking away when Sansa looked back at him. She wanted to know why he said that, especially right after calling her a bitch.
She got in the truck, flicking away crumbs Rickon most likely left behind.
"Who was that young man?" Her father asked as he pulled out the parking lot. He was looked at Sansa with a knowing smile.
Sansa flushed. "He's...no one really."
Arya scoffed. "She right. He's just a guy." She snorted. "No, more like wild animal." Then she started to growl and claw at the ceiling.
Sansa rolled her eyes and stared out the window, still wondering what Sandor meant. Little bird...she quite liked that name.
