He's going to kill whoever is in charge of making up the schedules.
He has five classes with her.
Five. Classes.
And somehow, he's managed to get a desk in front of or behind her in every one of them.
Every.
Single.
One.
Somebody on the school board hates him.
Actually, everyone on the school board hates him, but that's beside the point.
It would be bad enough having one class in such close proximity with her. That, he could've handled it.
Even two would've been doable, but five?
Needless to say, he's exhausted when the final bell rings.
He paid no attention in second period World History, because he was too busy staring at the back of her head. He was even more distracted during third period English Literature, because this time, he was too busy trying not to stare at the back of her head. Fourth period Algebra had seen him filling five full pages of his brand new, leather bound notebook, because it was the only way he could ignore her staring at the back of his head.
Fifth and sixth periods were welcome reprieves, taking him to study hall and the lunch room respectively, where a hundred faceless students stood between himself and Jane, but then came seventh period French, and eighth period AP Biology. By the time he's in ninth period Intro to Business Law, with no Jane Foster to be found, he's exhausted. He can't even enjoy his freedom.
It's complete madness.
He just can't escape her.
For her part, Jane Foster did almost everything she could to pretend Loki didn't exist. Baring algebra, she'd given him not a hint of her attention, instead focusing on the lessons like the good little schoolgirl she is. She hands him back the syllabuses when they are passed around- she does not throw them at him or drop them to the floor. She would not give him the satisfaction of her spite. As far as she was concerned, he was nothing to her but just another classmate.
If Loki could just act the same way towards her, all his problems would be solved.
One of these days, he was going to have to sit himself down and really think about when his opinion of Jane Foster had changed so drastically; when he had gone from thinking her lower than dirt to feeling miserable at the thought that she might hate him, while simultaneously loathing her very existence in this school.
For now, he chose to do as he always did and foist all the blame on her.
She was clearly doing this on purpose. This was her revenge for all the years of torment he put her through. This was her finally growing a backbone and learning to stand up for herself, and then doing so in the most devious way possible.
In a way, Loki could respect that. After all, how many minds had he broken playing games with them just like this one? There was at least one sixth grade teacher, who had made the foolish mistake of giving him an unfair grade on his social studies midterm, who was to this day seeing a therapist three times a week and too traumatized to pick up teaching again.
It's different when it's happening to him, though. Loki used to imagine it would be, on the off chance someone came along who could match him in wits and cunning. He just never thought it could be like this, or that it would be Jane Foster, of all people, who would become that person.
Oh, how he hated her for this; for doing this to him.
How he hated that he really couldn't hate her at all.
Damn her straight to hell and back!
It's lunchtime on the fifth day of school. One more day until the weekend, and two beautiful days away from the harsh and suffocating atmosphere surrounding Jane Foster. Compared to this, walking in on a half naked Thor with his head between a red faced Sif's legs would be like a walk in the park.
(Although that might just be because, following that incident, Thor and Sif had moved the majority of their 'activities' to her house, which brought the chances of him interrupting them again down to nil.)
He eats lunch in the courtyard today, as he likes to when the weather is right. It's a little chilly this afternoon; he buttons his jacket halfway up to combat the wind. It doesn't matter much, he's always been resilient against the cold, unlike the rest of his family. It made sense, given some rather... distressing revelations about his place in the family that have only just been sprung on him a short time ago, but that's another story entirely.
Jane is sitting by a large oak tree next to the basketball court. It's the kind of tree they tell you has been there longer than the school itself, and is considered a historical landmark because someone vaguely important died there, all to justify not tearing the damn thing down, no matter how old or ugly or inconvenient it is. At least it's a good place to read. She's been sitting there with the same book, making steady progress from beginning to end, since Monday.
And Loki doesn't know that because he's been watching her or anything. No way in hell.
Someone taps him on the shoulder, and from the sting of a too sharp fingernail and the teeth gnashing sound of the voice in his ear, Loki doesn't need to turn and see who it is. He just has to look straight ahead and wish the ground would rise up and swallow his unwelcome visitor whole.
"Had a good summer, Odinson?"
He moves around the bench to sit next to Loki, pushing aside the books Loki had placed there to prevent exactly that from happening. His guest has changed quite a bit since last year. He is paler than he used to be, completely white if one isn't looking carefully. His face has sharpened, the skin stretching thinly over it, so Loki can almost see through it to his skull. His eyes are bloodshot, but what else is new? With the shit Mal is constantly getting into, Loki is pretty sure that they, along with several key internal organs, are damaged beyond hope of repair.
"What do you want, Mal?"
"A cigarette. I'm dying over here," he rasps and takes a long drink from a ratty old canteen that probably doesn't have water in it. "First, I wanted to see how my old buddy was doing in his first week of high school."
Loki releases air through grit teeth, then rips through a lukewarm drumstick that tastes gamey, but at least keeps him from having to talk to Mal for a little while longer.
"I see you've been giving Jane Foster the eye."
Loki pauses, and slowly returns the drumstick to his tray.
"No more than usual," he answers, as unaffected as he can convincingly feign.
Mal scoffs.
"Right, I believe that," he says. "You haven't just spent the last ten minutes eyefucking the hell out of her or anything."
Loki could cringe at the wording, but that would just give Mal undue satisfaction, and he can't say for sure what kind it would be. So he just keeps on eating and pretending the person next to him is just a mass of air.
"I don't blame you. She's turning into a hot one, Foster. I wouldn't mind a night in her bed."
"Mm-hm."
The lunch bell rings, a godsend at this point. Loki leaves without saying goodbye to Mal and re-enters the building a practiced twelve seconds after Jane does. In French, he learns a new list of verbs for study, and he may snatch the homework assignment away a little too hard when Jane hands it back. She almost turns to look when he does.
Lunchtime on Monday sees Mal asking Jane out on a date. Loki is so stunned, he thinks he's dreaming. It wouldn't be so far out. Last night, he dreamt about that it was Thor doing the asking, and a moment later, he was at their wedding, watching Jane walk down the aisle from the Best Man's spot. He woke up in a cold sweat and couldn't get back to sleep. It's a shame he can't wake up from this nightmare like he did that one.
Jane refuses Mal.
He might ask her again, only to be once more (and more forcefully) rebuffed. Loki can't tell. They're too far away and not in the right position for him to read their lips. What he knows is that Mal eventually gives up and storms away with his tail between his legs.
"Bitch," he mutters as he passes Loki by to go back inside. Loki doesn't bother anymore with him.
All he cares about is that Jane is alone, and that she's started a new book.
On Tuesday, it rains. The courtyard is closed off.
With every freshman and sophomore cramped into one cafeteria, it tells Loki a lot about how overpopulated this school is, and how insufficiently planned the lunch schedule is.
He is late to arrive thanks to some extra classwork that needed finishing. By the time he gets there, the vending machine is all out of his favorite soda, and not a single empty seat remains, except one.
Forget about the school board. God himself clearly hates him.
He lingers several feet away from Jane Foster's table, long enough that the lettuce in his salad starts to wilt. He shakes himself out of it by reminding himself that this is Jane Foster he's talking about. Jane Foster, who is built like a twig and cried for her mother in fifth grade, when the teacher put on Willy Wonka for class movie day. Jane Foster who, before this year, never had a harsh word to say about anyone, to the point where Loki hadn't thought her capable of hatred.
He walks over and sets his lunch down. She glances up once, then does a double take. Loki responds with a cool smile, the one that lets everyone know that he will have his way no matter how many of them he has to step on them to get it.
Jane scowls and goes back to her book, but she takes so long to turn the page, Loki doubts she's really reading at all. It feels like a win for him. He's eating his lunch in relative comfort, with the person on his opposite side scooting away to give him more room, and Jane Foster too squashed on her end to even think about doing the same. They both know she would've moved to the other end of the cafeteria a long time ago if she could. That she can't is a neverending source of amusement for Loki. He really can't help but gloat.
"That looks like a good book," he says, flipping the cover up so he can read it.
Jane moves it away from him before he can smiles sweetly. "It's about a really annoying guy who won't stop bothering poor, innocent young girls, and then he gets hit by a bus in the end."
It's a book about astronomy. Does she think he can't read?
"But what happens afterwards?" he asks, playing along. "What if the girl discovers after he's gone that she really misses him?"
"Because in the real world, when you spend years treating someone like dirt for no reason, they stop giving a shit what happens to you real fast."
She slams the book shut and crams it back into her bag, returning to what's left of her sandwich in the same breath. Loki gives her a moment to finish.
"If the girl really cared so little, I don't think she'd get so flustered when questioned."
Jane doesn't deign to respond, and lunch ends with her leaving through the wrong exit, just to get away from him. Loki has had the final word and, as a bonus, he gets to watch Jane scramble to get through the door to French class before the late bell rings and just miss it by a second.
Goodbye, perfect attendance record!
The end of class sees Jane pulling the teacher aside for a private conversation. The next day, her desk has been moved to the opposite side of the room from him.
One down, four to go.
But it's something of a hollow victory.