Still don't own anything except the stuff I've changed to fit around the characters I added, and said characters...

(I wanna appologize for the stupidity of the title of this chapter, I'm tired and out of creative ideas for the night...if I think of a better one I'll change it... )

What the fuck was he thinking? He was eating lunch with a rich girl… an underage rich girl. There had to be something wrong with him. She was way too good for him. There was no reason he should be here. She was probably playing him, but no, trash that thought, she was the one with the money.

He leaned on a wall and waited for her face to appear in the glass door. Would she still be in her school uniform? God, could they make those things any more provocative. Well, they were provocative on the right girl…. There had been a few fat girls… Jack shuddered at the memory.

Cal, on the other hand…Damn did she have killer legs. She'd been wearing a hoody on the field, so the average physique so flattered by her wife-beater the other night at the bar was well hidden. But he knew it was there, and it almost bothered him that he couldn't see the top and bottom flattered at the same time.

No, stop. He couldn't be thinking things like that, at least not for another four months. No wait, that wasn't any better thinking. Gah! What the hell was wrong with him?

Suddenly there she was, though it took him a second to recognize her with her hair down. Amazingly it fell a good inch below the bottom of her shoulders. She wore the same hoody, but she was in jeans now. She motioned him into the waiting line. He stood behind her and for a while studied her ass, before he realized what he was doing and forced himself to focus on his sandwich choice. And yet somehow while he was debating whether or not he wanted lettuce he caught a glimpse of her again and the strangest thought slipped through his mind. 'So she's normal after all.'

What the fuck! Where had that come from? She definitely was not normal. Normal girls did not go to delis for lunch with some stranger when they should have been in school!

Food, food was the answer to this problem. He needed food to shut his mind up.

She pulled a $20 out of her pocket when they reached the register and got 2 back for their meals. He kinda felt bad about making her spend money on him, but she had offered. So he pointed out a booth near the back of the place and sat across from her. As soon as she set her stuff down she was into her sandwich. Apparently the starving part hadn't been just an excuse. She slowed down a little after a few bites. Taking a gulp from her soda she suddenly decided it was too quiet at the table.

"So, Jack, I know absolutely nothing about you."

"What do you wanna know," he was kind of cautious about the question.

"A last name for starters."

"You first."

"Tanning."

"Mercer." Almost immediately she recognized the name. He'd wondered about that. He took another bite of his sandwich with a smile. She was putting facts together, a shocked look on her face.

"Wait, so…Mercer… as in the brother they tell stories about?"

"Yeah," he put his sandwich down, "those would be my brothers."

She stared at him in disbelief. He wiped his mouth and took a drink without saying anything else.

"I have no idea what to say." She finally admitted.

"What stories do they tell?"

Her mouth opened, but then closed again as she thought of where to start. She'd probably heard hundreds of Mercer stories, none of them non-violent.

After a long pause Jack nodded. "Let me guess. Lots about drugs and money, and even more about violence."

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

"Wont Ma be proud to know how far their rep has spread." He laughed to himself. "So which one of them is the most popular?" He pretty much knew the answer, but wanted to hear it anyway.

"Bobby," she said as munched on a fallen piece of lettuce, "by far."

"There's a shocker." Why wouldn't the most violent one be the best topic? "So what about you, any siblings?"

She shook her head. "No. My dad tried, but my mom finally ran off when I was 7."

Jack noticed her becoming nearly emotionless while talking. Strangely enough he knew exactly how she felt anyway. Ok, change of topic, this was getting depressing fast.

Just then he spotted someone he'd never expected to see here. "Shit."

Cal turned to look where he was looking, then looked back for an explanation.

"Jerry," he said, slouching a little to hide his tall frame from view.

"You wanna make a break for it?" the girl asked. "I could, ya know, get up at the same time and go the other direction, try to distract him."

"Yeah that would work, except for the fact that I'm a foot taller than you."

Shrugging of his sarcasm she asked "Any better ideas?"

No. He wasn't even sure why he was making such a big deal out of this though. So what if his brother saw him with a girl… Then again, what if his big brother saw him with this girl? Even Jerry wasn't able to keep that kind of stuff quiet for long. (Especially since little brother Jack had been the first one to let news of Camille slip.) "Alright."

She looked up from her sandwich, totally caught of guard. Quickly she swallowed and said "Then get your ass out the back door before he turns the corner looking for a seat!"

He looked over his shoulder and laughed as he turned back. "Fire door."

"It'll give 'em something else to think about."

"It's also illegal."

"So's the pot I can faintly smell wafting around here… hmm wonder where that's from." She rolled her eyes and sighed as she stood up. "Have it your way, ya pussy."

She piled all their garbage on the small tray she'd used, then placed her bottle of soda in front of Jack. "Hold on to that will ya?" She started to turn around, but thought of one more thing to say. "You're gonna owe me big, you know that right?"

Almost as soon as he'd raised his eyebrows she'd rounded the corner. He heard someone exclaim "Oh my!" and the contents of the tray went flying.

Cal was scrambling over the filthy floor to gather the garbage. Jerry was trying to help her. Jack got up and nonchalantly walked past the commotion out the front door.