Hello, amigops! This one-shot stems partly from a comment someone had made on a JN fic that suggested Jimmy would follow Cindy to college despite his store of degrees, simply to spend more time with her (read: get on her nerves).
I can't quite recall what fic I saw this comment on, but props to whoever said it. It also stems from from my desire to write about a college setting. I imagine them to be at one of the Ivy Leagues, although I never really picked one specifically.
Also, some readers gave me feedback on my other stories, suggesting I try something happy/non-tragic for a change, and this is the result of that. I'll admit I'm not particularly fabulous at romance, but whatever, I tried. Fair warning that this is definitely not my best! In fact, I'm not satisfied with this at all, but I took the time to write it so I guess I'll share. I posted this as a stand alone one-shot two days ago and then deleted it, but I'm bringing it back in the interest of people who messaged me and told me the premise intrigued them!
All that preliminary jazz aside, onwards to the story!
Disclaimer: I lay no claims to the wonderful universe of Jimmy Neutron or the fantastic poetry of TS Eliot!
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while, to have bitten off the matter with a smile,
to have squeezed the universe into a ball?
To roll it toward some overwhelming question?
- T.S Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
The core requirements caused so much unnecessary grief. Jimmy Neutron had never been receptive to the liberal arts. Being forced to take literature and history classes as an undergraduate was the second worst part of college, the first being the food. Of course, he hadn't really given thought to a core curriculum when he'd come here…he'd already received various degrees via correspondence, and done some work for accredited organizations across the country. If anyone asked, he would probably maintain that he was pursuing knowledge for the sake of knowledge. The road commonly taken, if you will. But of course, there was that nagging voice scraping up against the periphery of his thoughts that insisted there was in fact a real reason he'd come. He tried to bury that voice underneath a plethora of formulae and mental blueprints for his new inventions, but it always resurfaced. So while Jimmy did indeed hold the pursuit of learning in the highest regard (even if it was impractical, abstract knowledge), his reasoning behind adding another degree to his cache was much less— wisdom-oriented. An involuntary blush rose to his cheeks at the thought, as he slid into his seat in English class. Shaking off his introspective mood, Jimmy settled for taking out his tablet.
Moments later, she was there. He could tell by the faint aroma of apple and jasmine that suddenly permeated the room. Her glossy blonde hair grazed the small of her back in a neat braid. Whenever he saw her, he couldn't help but compare her present appearance to her past appearances. It was a symptom of having grown up with her. He recalled her stages of aesthetic development— As a child, she'd sported pigtails and polished loafers. As a preteen, she'd perpetually tied her hair up in a tight pony-tail and donned khakis and pastel tank tops. In high school, she'd worn velvet skirts and pressed skinny jeans and lots of stockings. Her once graceless physique had given way to a newly lithe, elegant figure. He supposed she imagined him this way too— mentally progressing from his whippy-dip hairdo and short stature of the elementary school years to his current configuration—tall, messy haired, always wearing solid colored shirts and jeans.
"Contemplating your inevitable defeat on our test on the Romantics, Neutron?" She shot him a smirk and instantly, he was shaken out of his reverie.
"No, simply contemplating the probability of you ever scoring a victory against me."
Cindy scoffed. "You may have erased AP scores from your memory Neutron, but I sure as hell haven't."
"Oh please, I got a five on every single exam." He brushed off her barb without so much as a glance in her direction.
"Might I remind you that you ended up with a four in English?" She pointed out. "Kind of ironic given your downfall was Frankenstein. With the amount of time you spent in the lab senior year, you should have had a personal connection to that one."
Ah yes, there was that little inconvenience. He had ended up with a four in English, and Cindy had never let him live it down. Her constant jibes had prompted him to block the very notion of his lowly score from his mind.
Before he could offer a retort, their professor walked in. "We're switching from the Romantics to the Modernists today. To commence the new unit, I'm going to have you do a little out of class group work. You are to pick a partner and present a report on the poet of your choosing."
She motioned to the students to decide among themselves who their partners would be.
The voice in Jimmy's head urged him to ask Cindy to be his partner. She was…admittedly smart, and it couldn't hurt to spend a little more time with her…immediately, he extinguished the thought and glanced around him. The idea of voluntarily working with Cindy was…ludicrous.
His various attempts at attaining a partner all went sourly. People who didn't want to partner with him sheepishly admitted they'd been thinking of someone else already, and people who might have actually wanted to work with him had already paired up. Defeated, he returned to his seat. He looked over at Cindy, who appeared to be part of a group of three girls. After a few moments of reflection, he realized his disappointment in being unable to acquire a partner was outstripped by the joyous idea of working alone. He could approach the assignment from any angle he so chose—he wouldn't be bounded by silly interactions regarding synchronization of work or arguments over a poet of choice—
The professor regarded Jimmy with a pleasantly surprised expression. "Do you have a partner, James?" He shook his head no in glee. She frowned and scanned the classroom.
"Ah! I knew we had a rogue somewhere." She gestured to Cindy, who was suddenly wearing a horrified expression. "Cynthia, you will work with James. We don't need a group of three with an even number of people in here. And I'm sure James will work better with a partner than by himself."
"But-" Cindy and Jimmy both rose to protest at the same time. Their professor paid them no heed, instead instructing the class to read over a handout detailing the parameters of the project. The two sighed, and sat back down in frustration.
After class, Jimmy stood in the doorway of the now vacant classroom. Choosing Cindy as a partner was one thing…but being assigned to work with her was another entirely. His lack of agency bothered him thoroughly. Cindy caught up with him, canvas tote slung over her shoulder.
"So, why do you think this always happens?" It wasn't an unprecedented question. It seemed they were always getting paired up on group projects. Jimmy shuddered, recalling some particularly explosive arguments that had come of their high school partnerships.
Cindy rolled her eyes.
"For a genius, you can be pretty dumb, Neutron. We're the smartest students, so we usually end up working together." Cindy stood poised for a fight, hand on her hip and scowl gracing her lips.
"But I'm the smartest student, so shouldn't I be able to bypass these petty group projects? I could be far more productive working on my own."
Cindy sighed. "You're also the least socially competent student, which is why you'd benefit from some lessons in interpersonal relations and teamwork."
Jimmy scoffed, brushing his messy brown hair out of his eyes. "You're barely one to talk, Vortex. Your skills lie primarily in intimidation and unwarranted hostility. I doubt you know much about effective communication."
Cindy glared at the bigheaded genius, in awe at his inability to talk to her in a remotely dignified manner. His dismissive nature angered her to the point of exhaustion, but she swallowed down her frustration in the interest of the assignment.
"I don't have time to argue with you Einstein. Just meet me in the library after your last class of the day so we can start working on this project. The sooner we get it over with, the better."
He nodded and began to walk away.
"And bring your laptop." She called out, as they headed in different directions. "Mine is being repaired."
At around six PM, Jimmy sauntered through the double doors of the campus library, exhausted but equipped with his laptop. A quick look around the first floor was enough for him to gauge that people were actually beginning to worry about midterm examinations. The tables were filled. He frowned…how was he supposed to find Cindy?
As soon as the concern arose, it disappeared, as Cindy waved to him from across the room. He made his way over to her and pulled up a chair next to her. She had a ton of books spread out against the table, and she'd taken meticulous notes on a fresh sheet of paper.
"Wow, you're taking this really seriously, Vortex." He gazed in surprise at the tangible evidence of her effort.
"Not all of us are getting a degree for fun, Neutron." She didn't even look up from her reading.
"So I take it you've made a unilateral decision as to which modernist poet we're presenting?"
"However did you come to that conclusion?" She spat sarcastically. "Genius." She muttered underneath her breath.
"Vortex, remember when the professor said this was a group project? Ergo, it involves the input of more than one person?" He watched her as she continued to pore over different volumes. He picked one up despite her irritated countenance. "T.S Eliot?"
"Good job, you can read."
"Way to pick the most obvious choice."
"Also the best choice." She countered. "His poetry is some of the best to come out of the movement. "
"I'm not quite sure if The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock is what I would call particularly astonishing."
"Let's see you write something of equal calibre, Neutron." She challenged. "Oh right, I forgot that you couldn't write your way out of a paper bag."
"I can definitely come up with something better than a poem about an old insecure man with a bunch of pretentious literary references thrown in."
"I'll believe it when I see it. Until then, save your poetic prowess for our project. I want an A even though you're my partner."
He shot her an angry look.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"If you haven't noticed, Neutron, you're not exactly the paragon of literary merit. If I recall, your tenth grade portfolio for creative writing honors included a thirteen page ode to the the noble gases." She smirked.
"I can ascertain from your smug nature that you seem to consider yourself some sort of modern Keats."
Cindy offered a bitter, unamused look. "Bottom line is that I've definitely got more in the way of talent in English than you. And I have the grades to prove it too, freak-brain."
"I wouldn't want to overstep boundaries, Vortex." He looked at the cross blonde across from him. "The humanities don't really require…talent per se."
Cindy gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. "Just like monkeying around with a wrench for several hours doesn't need much talent." Before he could say a word in response, she gathered her things and shoved them into her bag. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go work by myself, since you so obviously have enough of an aptitude in language to score an A all on your own."
"Fine, see if I care. It's not like I can't read, interpret, and present my findings just as well as you could." The voice in Jimmy's head issued a warning that he'd taken things a notch too far, which he swiftly suppressed in favor of his annoyance at the haughty girl he was being cruelly forced to endure a entire project with. He stared after Cindy, as her silhouette disappeared into a maze of bookshelves. This was going to be one hell of a night.
Cindy fought the faint sting of tears as she made her way up to the fifth floor of the library. It was one thing to hear Neutron's insults leveled at her on a playful level, and quite another to hear his insults leveled at her on a deeply personal level. She supposed she would have let it slide were it anyone else, but it was Neutron. Cindy was deeply aware that most science and math majors had egos the size of Texas. She wouldn't put it past a physics major to decry the value of the humanities: it was just what they did, and it was their loss.
But coming from Neutron, it hurt a little. Did he still think her talent-less, incapable of holding her own, even now? She shook her head and brushed away the slight wetness from her eyes. As she exited the elevator, she noted the clock. It was only six thirty. She had tons of time to complete all her work. She set her books down at a table in the far back and began to read and take notes.
Jimmy was aware on some level that he had crossed a line. He'd been reading poetry books for hours but his mind was vaguely distracted by the thought that he had indeed traversed a dangerous path. It wasn't like he entirely intended to insult her, but she made it so damn hard not to. Not only had she taken control over their project without even consulting him, she 'd also suggested his skill in the humanities was less than satisfactory.
Jimmy bit the inside of his cheek as he considered this. True, his sparse attempts at creative writing weren't exactly worthy of a Pulitzer, but he did have a decent vocabulary and a pretty solid grasp on the formulaic essence of a term paper.
Mulling over what he'd said to Cindy in his head was becoming somewhat of a pain. He sighed and shut the books, hoping to turn in for the night. His laptop had no charge left either, and he'd left the charger in his room. He turned from his desk to see a very empty library.
He was the sole one still here. He wondered how he'd missed the timings on the front door or the warning announcements. Before he headed for the elevators, he gave the double doors near the entrance a try. No luck. They were locked from the outside. No matter, he'd just call campus security. He dug his hands in his pockets to find he hadn't brought his phone. He mentally kicked himself as he realized his phone was sitting in his dorm. Along with his watch, which was undergoing a repair, and his laptop charger. He shook his head in anger. Being unprepared for this kind of eventuality was one thing, admitting it to Cindy was another entirely. But hopefully, she had her phone on her.
Jimmy took a wild guess that Cindy was on the fifth floor, which was the quietest floor. Everyone went there when they wanted complete and utter silence while they worked. No doubt, she'd be up there, probably still taking copious notes.
He made his way out of the elevators. The fifth floor was filled with desks and reference books. The giant, sloping windows peered out into the electric night.
Jimmy caught sight of Cindy, recognizing the pale green stripes of her boatneck sweater. She had fallen asleep on top of her notes. Her eyes fluttered the tiniest bit at the hint of motion. Jimmy couldn't help but gape at her, her breaths falling in short, syncopated rhythms, her beautiful blonde hair cascading to the small of her back in waves. She looked almost angelic.
He drew closer to her. He'd barely grazed her shoulder to wake her up when Cindy opened her eyes. They were wide with fear as she immediately stood up and kicked him in the shin on impulse.
Jimmy let out a cry of pain. "Arghh! Vortex, what the hell?"
Cindy blinked a few times, her grogginess finally fading. "Neutron, it's you?"
"Of course it's me, who else did you expect?" He nursed his leg, frowning.
"Well, I'm not apologizing. You deserved that." She huffed, clearly still upset.
"You're probably right." Before he could stop himself, the words had come tumbling out of his mouth.
Cindy let out a fake gasp of surprise. "The Great Neutron admitted that someone other than himself was right? This is a momentous occasion. Wish I could have recorded that on my phone." She said sarcastically.
"Please tell me you have your phone?" He gave her a pleading look.
"So eager to admit your mistake? I think T.S Eliot is starting to have some sort of hallucinatory effect on you." She smirked.
"Look around, Cindy, do you see anyone here?" He ignored her barb, fear growing in his voice.
Cindy's smirk dropped off her face. "What's your point?"
"We're locked in here."
"Big deal. Call campus security." She rolled her eyes. "Gee Neutron, thought you were a genius."
"I don't have my phone or my watch. My laptop is dead because the charger's in my room. And clearly you don't have your phone either." He motioned to her empty pockets. The note of panic in his voice steadily increased.
"Of course you wouldn't bring anything actually useful to this library session." She regarded him with anger. "The only thing you brought was your gigantic ego, and your big, annoying head."
"Only you would insult me while I'm trying to get us out of here."
"Well, I'd say you're doing a pretty terrible job."
"Maybe you can find your own way out then." He challenged.
"Maybe I will! Maybe I don't need your stupid help to get out of this." She stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest as he walked away. As he retreated, an eerie silence overtook the area and Cindy couldn't help but feel a little frightened by the sinister feeling of it all. The bookshelves cast long, crooked shadows against the mauve carpet, and the clock ticked ominously. Cindy got up from her seat, gathered her things into her backpack, slung it across one shoulder and ran after Jimmy, hoping he was still here.
When she finally caught up to him outside the elevators, she tapped his shoulder gently. He jumped, visibly afraid for a second.
"It's sort of...creepy up here." She said quietly. Her emerald eyes looked back at him with the slightest hint of remorse and a touch of fear.
He nodded, agreeing with her. "Let's go down to the fourth floor."
She wordlessly consented, and got in the elevator with him. She glanced nervously around as the elevator went down a floor.
"Are you...actually scared?" He asked in an overtly shocked tone.
She scowled. "Of course not."
But he saw her balled up fingers trembling in her fists.
In an unprecedented show of kindness, he reached for her hand, clasping it in his own. She didn't fight him, instead interlocking her fingers with his.
He looked at her reassuringly as they stepped out of the elevator. The two alighted onto a much more well lit floor and forayed through the carts towards a lounge like area with bean bags and mini tables. They sat next to each other, awkwardly letting their hands fall to their sides.
"So what do you propose we do?" She asked.
"I can't believe I'm saying this-but we can't do anything. I don't have anything I can use to get us out of here."
"Can't you just invent some door unlocking device using whatever's lying around?"
He shook his head no. "Those doors are locked from the outside. We can't even pick the lock, because the door is locked with a keypad."
"Maybe we can head down to the first floor and try to pry one of the old windows open."
"How would we reach them? They're way too high up."
"You could stand on my shoulders?" She offered.
He sighed. "Even if we could reach them, they're too rusted for us to get open without some sort of makeshift crowbar."
Cindy threw up her hands in exasperation. "You're telling me I'm stuck here until tomorrow morning with you? Unbelievable."
He raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall you saying the same thing the first time around, and things went just fine."
"Did they really?" She challenged.
"What do you mean? We had a decent time." He stopped for a second to amend his statement. "Well, the best we could have had, given the man eating spiders and the extreme heat."
"Neutron, I'm not talking about the damn spiders!" She wondered how someone with such a high IQ could be so insufferably dumb.
"Care to enlighten me as to what you are talking about?"
"I'm talking about us, you dimwit!" She exclaimed.
Jimmy's cheeks reddened as he came to grips with this revelation. "Oh."
After a second, he finally faced her. "We've...improved."
"Have we? We've done nothing but argue and insult each other since we started this project. Although it is mostly your fault, but still."
"My fault? You started the project without even waiting for me, and then you told me my literary skills are sub-par. Excuse me if I haven't been the picture of amicability."
"Doesn't feel good to have insults leveled at you, does it?" She shot him a sour look. "You tell me I'm sub par at everything all the time."
He watched her carefully, a hint of guilt etched in the lines of his face.
"But it's okay, I've gotten used to it. Don't stop on my account."
"That's not fair and you know it. You act like you've never been hostile at all."
"There's a difference." She grumbled under her breath.
"What?" He wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.
"There's a difference. I thought-thought you'd know by now." Her voice had turned soft and delicate in the snap of a moment.
"Know what?" He was confused.
"All my snipes about your inventions-" She began, before thinking better of what she was about to say. He gently brushed his fingers across her knee. Her eyes lit up in surprise and she blushed.
"I didn't mean it. Most of it anyways." She admitted, feeling the weight of years' worth of anger slip like feathers from her heart.
"Cindy-" A strange wave of sadness washed over him.
She held up a hand to stop him. "It's okay."
"I don't really think..." He swallowed the growing lump in his throat. "The liberal arts do require talent...I mean I spent hours reading over those poems and they gave me a hard time so...I mean.." He gave a humorless laugh. "You're talented." He offered awkwardly, giving up on words.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Thanks."
"So, what should we do for the next few hours?" He asked. They glanced at the clock. It was only eleven.
"We could read." He suggested. "There's no lack of books here to keep us entertained."
"I don't want to read, Neutron." She motioned to the books in her bag. "We did plenty of reading."
"Have any other ideas then?" He reclined back in his chair, blue eyes trailing her movements discreetly. It had become somewhat of an unconscious habit, and he had worriedly begun to realize he rather...liked it.
She inched closer to him, sitting at the very edge of her chair. Their knees were touching lightly. He had a sudden desire to shift the wisp of hair suspended in front of her eyes to the side of her face. He moved forward, to tuck the strand behind her ear. His fingers accidentally brushed against the soft, cool skin on her neck, and he reached up to hold her cheek. He could hear her uneven, nervous breaths amidst the ghostly silence.
She shifted her weight entirely towards him, reaching to clutch his unoccupied hand in her own.
"You know," He started, "I didn't want to admit it to myself at first."
She nodded knowingly, a small smile growing across her lips.
"I didn't come here for another degree. I could get that anywhere. I have plenty under my belt."
"What you don't have under your belt is modesty, Neutron." She rolled her eyes.
He grinned. "Modesty is overrated." He closed the gap between the two and gently kissed her on the lips, pulling back after a few seconds to gauge her response. She could barely conceal the grin spreading across her mouth as she slipped off her chair and onto his lap. He pressed his lips to her neck as she ran her hands through his hair. She let out soft sounds of approval as he nipped at the space below her ear and made his way back to her lips.
Before he kissed her again, he stroked her jaw tenderly and his blue eyes met his green ones in a moment of extreme clarity.
"I came here for you." Her eyes widened considerably. There, he'd finally acknowledged it. Could there even be another reason?
"You're a pain, but I'm glad you did." She beamed.
He took her head in his hands fondly and pecked her forehead. She bent down and bit his lower lip enticingly. He ran his hands down her sides, resting them on her hips. She burrowed her head in his chest and closed her eyes, content to lie in his arms.
"If I had to work on this project with anyone, I'm glad it's you."
He wrapped his arms around her. "Me too."
Neither of them had to say a word to make light of the image arising in their minds of their eleven year old selves saying similar things so many years ago.
The following morning the librarian unlocked the library and made her way up to the fourth floor to start collecting empty carts. She was surprised to see two students asleep in each others' arms on a soft bean bag chair, their bags flat against the floor across from them. She was familiar with these two- always arguing in the student lounge, always engaged in shouting matches and tense debates. They must have been studying late (as usual) and lost track of the time. A smile crept onto her face as she turned and walked away, secretly overjoyed. Maybe now, they would spend less time yelling at each other and more time being sweet. It would make her life a whole lot easier...