He stuck out like a sore thumb at lunch break; his worn black leather jacket, surrounded by the pastel toned cardigans and vibrant hues of letterman jackets.
Lucy watched him as discreetly as possible from across the cafeteria, fiddling absently with the edge of her third or fourth hand copy of The Painted Veil.
George dropped into his usual seat opposite, plunking his tray down and chucking his rucksack on the floor by his feet. "Enjoying the view?"
"Before you turned up and spoiled it, yes"
He snorted and took a sip of his water. "Have you done the Biology stuff Brinkley set us?". Lucy nodded, picking up her sandwich. "What, the stuff on the reproductive system? Yeah"
"Can I copy it?". "Sure". Lucy took a bite of her lunch, and placed it down, rummaging in her satchel and pulling out her Biology workbook and flicking it open on the relevant page.
The noise level in the room spiked suddenly - not that it had been by any means quiet before - as one of the jocks leapt up on a table and shouted, "hey everybody! What're the Westerburg Rottweilers gonna do to the Razorbacks at Sunday's game?!"
A cheer went up around the cafeteria, people throwing baseball caps into the air and whooping. "Kick their asses!"
The jock, a man with a shock of ginger hair who Lucy vaguely recognised as Jamie Fitzroy, grinned. "That's right! And now with a new linebacker", he announced, crouched down and grasped Lockwood's shoulder, pulling him to his feet, "mister Anthony Lockwood, straight from Havana, Cuba, the cup is all but ours!"
Another wave of cheers rippled across the room, and Jamie clapped Lockwood hard on the back. The Greaser grinned, and waved at everyone, winking charmingly at the cheer squad sat at the table. They flushed red, and giggled coyly. The blond one simpered and winked, kissing her fingers and blowing it at him.
A funny, heavy feeling thumped onto Lucy's chest and she didn't much care to identify it.
After a moment, the hall began to quieten as students went back to their food and work. George pulled a pen out of his bag and began to hurriedly jot down Lucy's homework into his book, whilst she returned to her sandwich and the tattered novel in her right hand.
"Mind if I join you?"
An accented voice broke the companionable silence. Lucy turned, to find Lockwood stood behind her, hands in his jeans pockets, gazing down at her. "You've got a seat", she stated, but didn't move to push him away.
He shrugged in that infuriatingly casual air of his. "Yeah. But I wanted to say 'hi'". "Well, you've said it. Bye"
The man grinned, and turned his attention to George, who had paused his incessant scribbling and was watching their interactions with barely concealed amusement. "How are you, George?"
"Eh, can't complain", the blond kicked out the chair beside Lucy, and gestured at it vaguely, "just heard you're the new star linebacker. How'd you manage that? You haven't been here three days"
The Greaser dropped into the seat, his tall, athletic frame comically oversized. His long, slim legs seemed to stretch for miles under the table, ending in a pair of slightly muddied combat boots with bright red laces. He dropped his bag with a quiet thump.
"They just came up to me in the parking lot and said 'hey, you look fit. Wanna be on the football team?' And I said 'sure, why not?'", Lockwood ran a bony hand through his dark curls, "it'll look good on a college application, I guess"
Lucy frowned. He wanted to go to college?
All the Greasers she'd ever met had been chain smoking lie - abouts, only concerned with where their next cigarette was coming from. To meet one with, Hell- basic manners, let alone ambitions, was for Lucy, somewhat of a shock.
"College? You want to go to college?"
Lockwood nodded.
"Like, to study?"
He smirked. "That is traditionally what one does at college, yes"
"What were you going to major in?"
The man shrugged, leaning back in the chair, pulling one leg up to cross at the knee. "I was hoping to study Physics, and get a job at NASA, but hey, not like that'll ever happen"
"Why not? It's a free country", Lucy replied, taking a small bite of her sandwich. He threw his head aback and laughed. "Yeah, if you're a straight, white, Republican male"
George snorted. "You always were political..."
"Well, excuse me for having an opinion"
The two teased each other for a few minutes, giving Lucy the perfect opportunity to study Lockwood profile without him seeing her.
He had a slender jaw, with a straight nose, and almost feminine lips. His cheekbones were high, but not overly prominent. His complexion was strikingly perfect - tan, splattered with freckles, but clear - his eyes a greeny hazel colour.
He wasn't terrible looking. In fact, he wasn't half - bad. In some ways, he was handsome; in a warm, sun - kissed kind of way, unlike the cold, stark attractive in the magazines and films.
He was actually a very good - looking young man.
The realisation made Lucy turn red.
She did not find him attractive. Lockwood was simply... aesthetically pleasing. Yes. That was it.
Her inner artist longed to trace out the defined line of his chin, the shell of his ear, the graceful curve of his cheekbones down to his neck, and then lower, mapping his collarbone and shoulders, probably mottled with freckles and beauty marks like his arms. Perhaps even scars, little ones or big ones. Then down to his abdomen, tracing out the subtle curves of his waist and the harder lines of muscle, then down his hips to...
To...
To...
Damn. What was she saying again?
The bell rang loudly, and Lucy swallowed, her tongue suddenly very dry in her mouth. Lockwood beside her glanced at his watch, and stood, grabbing his bag. "I better go. I've got... English lit next"
George stood. "I've got Spanish. Lucy, you've got English Lit, too, haven't you?", he asked, watching her carefully over his wireframe glasses.
"Uh... yes", Lucy finished her sandwich, and tucked her metal lunchbox into her satchel.
"Cool. Do you want to walk with me?"
She looked up from her bag and stared at him. Lockwood was gazing at her intently, hands in his pockets but standing tall.
"Okay"
He grinned.
