Chapter Two: Whip It
Donald was laughing at him. Well, laughing at him in his own way, a soft low, laugh with twitching lips and mouth corners slightly upturned. His soft laugh was what drew women in, like moths to a brightly lit kerosene lamp in the slums of India, and his sharp wit kept them at bay when he needed his space.
Jesse slumped against Donald's pleather car seats and pouted in a very five year old fashion, with arms crossed and lip slightly protruding.
"Whipped," Donald said. Jesse half expected the Trebles to appear around the parked car and do their own rendition of 'Whip It', hip grinding, badly times air guitar and all. But nothing. No one to witness Jesse's humiliation except the occasional squirrel that darted up a tree.
"I'm not," Jesse protested, sitting up and attempting to force a scowl. It was not his natural reaction to anything in life (he rolled with a dorm room half decorated with enough Star Wars memorabilia to fill a shop and put up with Bumper and his asshole personality for the majority of last year without blinking as much as an eyelash) but there was one person who could make him frown: Donald.
The summer had been spent mainly at his home only fifty minutes away from Barden, housing the large majority of the Trebles, Skyping Beca (his best friend and questionable lover… He had yet to even put a label on it in his own thoughts), and participating in his usual home activities. Summer outings with the family, hour long movie marathons over Skype with Beca, and running in the early hours to clear his own mind.
His sister, Sasha, was entering Barden this year as a lowly freshman and Jesse had spent several hours calming her nerves and reassuring her that she would find her place amongst the Barden students. She was not a singer, at all, with a rare ability to make the most tone deaf individual cringe away from her caterwauling. He was certainly glad that she couldn't fit in with the Bella or anything other regarding to acapella because her and his family had been mocking him all summer over his rather amazing make out session in the third row of the ICCA's after Beca had serenaded him (read: love declaration in front of a small audience and CH 5 on local television).
"She looks… alternative,"' his mother diplomatically said after they had met her for a brief moment after trophy's had been given out and parents hustled their children out into the lobby. Beca's hair had been ruffled from dancing, her eyes bright with enthusiasm, and her rather provocative outfit had been turning heads all evening from the male portion of the audience. Beca, with her usual walls intact when it came to the outside world, had murmured a hello to his parents, eyeing them all as if they were some new form of nerd she had yet to categorize. Jesse had been surprised when an actual small grin erupted on her face when she had seen her mother give him a large hug after the slightly awkward introduction.
"So that is where you get it," she blurted out. Her eyebrow were risen, a slightly sardonic tilt of the head, and a grin that told him anything she could say after that wouldn't be good. "The whole invasion of personal space deal." His mother's eyebrows both rose and mouth dropped slightly, looking back and forth between the two.
Then a shout from across the lobby caught her attention and she surprised him by reaching out, squeezing his hand, and saying goodbye to the three of them.
His father had contained himself until the first few minutes into the car ride. Jesse had been waiting for the patriarchal view.
"Just," his father's voice had faded slightly, "stay safe." Jesse had stared at the back of his dad's head, face lighting up slightly at his words and implications, but he nodded. He did not want to deny to his father that their relationship wouldn't continue further than auditorium make out sessions, but it dwelled upon one single factor: how Beca had felt about their relationship and where it should go on her terms.
Which was why Donald was calling him whipped.
"She is rather-"Jesse said, not able to put the correct words into mind, "delicate?" It came out more of a question.
"Spike in the ear, eyeliner wearer, combat boots Beca… delicate?" Donald snorted, readjusting his hipster glasses. "I think you got it wrong man, it is YOU that is delicate."
Jesse narrowed his eyes and shook his head adamantly.
"I mean, she is delicate in social terms- and that includes how our relationship should progress.." Jesse sighed. He had been shocked when Beca had called him the first day of summer break, with an excuse of needing help with something or other and they had ended up chatting for at least two hours. She had missed him, he could tell, and had not wanted to admit it. In no certain terms was Beca soft or revealed weaknesses in her armor.
"Just go for it. Kiss her and declare that Facebook status man." Donald glanced at him with a sly smile. "Or did you balls retreat when you met her."
"No," squawked Jesse. "But-"
"No buts man. Just take her out and she will show you what she wants from you," Donald winked, making a crude gesture with his hands in emphasis of what he exactly meant by 'wants'.
All Beca wanted right now was to collapse on her bed and curl up into a ball to avoid this stunningly cheesy display.
"We are just down the road, "cooed (yes, cooed) Shelia, attempting to brush her hair out of her eyes. Beca jerked her head away from the intrusive hands and shot her father a glare. Yes, it was his fault she was intruding her personal space and trying to be all 'motherly'.
"I know," Beca mumbled, shifting her bag on her shoulder, hoping her equipment would be fine in her new dorm room. "Can I go, please?" She gave her father one of her squinty narrowed eyed expression to inform him her patience was rapidly diminishing.
There were swift reluctant hugs and Beca managed to escape with minimal damage to her psyche. Her dorm room was, thankfully, a single this semester. As much as she loved her fellow Bella's, she needed her own space this semester. She wanted to up her game at the station as an assistant instead of an intern and she also needed privacy to create better mixes for the Bella's.
But when she opened her door, there was someone else in her room-a certain handsome, crooked smiling nerd. His hands were shoved in his jean pockets, leaning against the desk next to her precious equipment but her eyes shot to his mouth.
"Hey weirdo," Jesse said, taking his hands outside of his pockets and opening his arms out as if he wanted to enfold her into a hug. This time she didn't resist a hug and put her arms around his waist and leaned into him.
"When did you learn to pick locks? Been planning this all semester?" she teased as he released her from the hug. She looked up into his face and was pleasantly surprised to see some stubble on his chin. He looked scruffy and a little less boyish than usual.
"I used my charming personality," he winked at her, "and asked your RA to let me in." She just gave him a pointed look and he just gave her a wider grin.
"'No lie," he said and struck a rather darkish pose. "Everyone wants some of this."
Becca couldn't resist an actual grin and thought about her little black dress. Yes, she definitely wanted some of that and she would remind him how much she did when she put that dress on for him.