The Adventures of Super Jock and Awkward Girl
A/N ~ Penultimate update! I cannot believe this fanfiction is coming to an end. You know it's a special chapter when the chapter title is the story title. Ah.
Disclaimer ~ It's about time one of these things was normal. I don't have control of ASOIAF. *muffled cries from a moving heighty sack* *I tear my way out* *whacks imposter SavingOphelia over the head with a shovel* *refuses to say where I acquired shovel* *hairflip* Yet.
Coming Up… The gang graduates, telling a prom full of old friends to go fuck themselves is a good way to gain admiration, also fear, and some other stuff that we should not go into, don't do it kids! Find out in The Adventures of Super Jock and Awkward Girl!
29.The Adventures of Super Jock and Awkward Girl
By graduation day, the rain was a distant memory.
Summer had come and was filtering through Jaime Lannister's bedroom window, across the floor where a week ago, a day after his final act of Jaime-ness at the prom, he and Brienne had written out their graduation announcements. Frankly, he thought that was the best idea ever thought of. Sending out the notice that he was leaving school to loaded relatives he barely knew and having them send him a shit ton of money for it. Or random gifts that he could easily sell and get a shit ton of money for. Particularly since the Lannisters were all loaded, like Iron Man loaded, and there were probably about a thousand of them. (Brilliant.) (When else did he get to sent a couple of words to Uncle Gerion who he hadn't seen since he was ten and have him actually send cash, or presents?) (Brilliant.) But that had mostly comprised of Brienne helping him make sure he'd written one for every relative, considering the Tarths were a more normal sized family, and her brother and his girlfriend were already around.
At least, that was how Jaime saw it. He'd probably manage to scrape together a decent amount, maybe enough to last him a while, even if less than half the people he'd sent announcements out to sent a voucher or cash or a gift or whatever. Rich people perks.
The day came, and he'd already gathered three hundred big ones, and that was without yet receiving the expected contributions from Aunt Genna and Uncle Emmon, and Uncle Stafford, and most of that was thanks to Uncle Kevan's donation. For once in his life, Jaime was awake when he awoke. He knew he'd had some sort of weird dream, where he had a golden hand he couldn't swordfight with and Cersei was an alcoholic queen, but it slipped away within seconds, and he was left wondering if he'd had a sound sleep for once in his life, and how.
Their graduation gowns and stuff were all stored at the school – Chataya had dropped off the suit he was wearing yesterday, so he anchored himself further into the land of the living with a quick shower and dressed normally. He'd change at school. That was such a weird thought; his last time ever changing at school. His last time ever standing as a student in that school. He hated the nostalgia trip more than anybody, but that damn building had been his life for the past four years. And this was his last time ever getting ready to go in there. Weird. He should probably savour it or cry or something, but knowing him, he'd not really appreciate that until he looked back in a couple of years.
A few years ago he'd imagined this day, imagined what it would bring, what it would be like (if he would surpass the bounds of humanity and fulfil the impossible in becoming even more attractive). Well, he definitely didn't imagine checking with Chataya that they were still on to give Brienne Tarth a lift to graduation the moment he bounded down the staircase.
"Sorry, kid." She shrugged, shoving some eggs around in a pan. "Her dad called. Nice bloke. What with graduation and all, he's going to take her himself. And I'm not even driving you anymore. Your dad said the same thing. The work car as well, for you and the drama queen upstairs."
"Oh yeah," Jaime had heard Cersei shrieking down the phone and various thumping noises coming from his twin's bedroom as he passed on the landing this morning, and she had still not retreated. "What's all that about?"
Chataya shrugged. "Leave me out of it, whatever it is. That girl scares me sometimes."
Tyrion came through into the kitchen then, gnawing an apple and wishing him luck, congratulations and also condolences (on having to ride in the same car as a woman scorned by Ashara D and her prom committee), and Jaime hugged him awkwardly, and Chataya piled the breakfast of champions onto his plate, full fried. He and Tyrion were engaging in a very mature adult competition of who-can-eat-four-massive-hash-browns-the-quickest, which Jaime was so thrashing him at despite what would later be said by all witnesses, when Cersei came downstairs, fully made-up, in a green sort of sundress dress that was probably worth it's weight in paper cash. Jaime turned to greet her with a mouthful of hash brown. "AHT AS ALL HA OISE AH HOUT?"
"Excuse me, that's the most repulsive sight I have ever seen, you have effectively ruined my appetite and my graduation day, thank you." Cersei replied, sitting down and picking at the plate of breakfast Chataya set in front of her.
Jaime swallowed, which hurt, what with all the half-chewed hash brown; so she had better fucking appreciate it. "What was all the noise about?" He amended, and Tyrion laughed, muttering something about winning. Just because he hated their sister more than Jaime did.
"Oh, that? That was nothing, I just couldn't decide which dress to wear and Taena was being a bitch." Cersei shrugged breezily, savagely cutting up a sausage into the smallest pieces Jaime had ever seen.
Jaime mouthed the horror at Tyrion around the which-dress mark and Tyrion feigned a heartbroken swoon. Cersei dug her manicured talons into Jaime's hand for that. The little shit might as well have the courtesy to admit Jaime won the hash brown competition. Jaime shoved her, hard, to which Cersei stood up and snapped, "This is Tory Burch you idiot, and your fingers have destructive oils!"
Oh, Tory Burch was it, who the fuck named their clothes? That was when Tywin descended the staircase and broke up the fray. "Don't play with your food." He muttered sharply. "You two –" His gaze turned on the twins. "Are graduated adults now, officially at least. I shouldn't have to remind you like you're two years old."
"We're not graduated adults until this afternoon." Jaime pointed out, unhelpfully. His father decided to ignore that.
"I still remember the first day you started school." Tywin told them, but it wasn't nostalgic like Jaime imagined Brienne's dad would be, more matter-of-fact. Everything Tywin Lannister did was matter-of-fact. "Lunchbox advertising some sort of mutation warrior tortoises, butterfly hairslides. And you were hitting each other then, and you're still hitting each other now." Is that meant to be a dig? Good job you did in raising us, then, if we're still like we were at four years old. But Jaime didn't take it to heart. That was about as gooey as his father ever would get, and so he treasured that comment in it's own weird way. (And plus, deep down, Jaime wanted to make sure Tywin could differentiate who had the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles lunchbox and who had the butterflies.) (He still remembered that Cersei stabbed him with those butterfly hairclips because he got peanut butter on her charm bracelet.) (In fact, he was pretty sure he might still have a scar.)(Brienne was wrong on the poison front; it turned out Cersei was a dagger woman as well.)
Tywin had dressed up for the occasion, as much as Tywin did when all he ever fucking wore were suits anyway, and Jaime appreciated that. So, the time came and Jaime found himself sitting alone in the back seat of his dad's precious Lamborghini, because Cersei had insisted that the front seat served her better (and told them all not to wind down any widows because it'd mess up her hair.) He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. 1 New Message; from Wench
Sorry for short notice on the lift. Dad was being ridiculous and Galladon and Alysanne wanted to come now too.
He grinned for no reason at all and started tapping out a reply. Unfortunately, Tywin had noticed in the car mirror and started snapping at him to put his damn phone away for once because this was the most special day of his life so far and he needed to actually pay attention and blah blah blah. Jaime supposed he probably ought to be nervous or something; after all, last time he saw all of these people he interrupted their fairytale night by telling them all to go fuck themselves, something Cersei thankfully had zipped shut, considering she probably never saw it, being too busy throwing the tantrum of all tantrums ala not being crowned prom queen. Principal Aerys had had one of his secretaries call on the home phone to tell Tywin what his son had done, but it had been Chataya that answered and Jaime managed to bribe her with a years supply of chocolate. (He didn't even know, she'd just agreed to shut up if he gave her a bar or so a day for a year.) (He just figured he'd sent her a full three-six-five from college in September.)
So Tywin did not know. Yet. No doubt somebody would have a word with him about the whole farce today, but live and let live; he wouldn't let that spoil a perfectly good graduation. It was weird, looking out the window at the familiar posh houses that were nowhere near as posh as his, the manicured trees and gardens and streets and knowing this was the last time anyone was driving him to Westeros High school.
When they arrived, Jaime felt a little foreboding twinge as Tywin was roped off to join the other families and so on and so forth whilst he went to go change. Someone was going to tell. Oh well. It was hardly the worst thing he'd ever done. Unfortunately, the teacher who was gathering the meagre arrived students and handing out graduation caps and gowns was Randyll Tarly. What was really quite upsetting to Jaime was that Tarly was leaving the school with the end of this year too, going off to run a module at some college, but he wouldn't be around to see the safe, rainbow-filled glory of a Westeros High without Randyll Tarly, spawn of Satan. Tarly called him to one side and ranted at him about ruining his good name and so on. Jaime wasn't really listening. The moment he was released – honestly, he was graduating, it was great that there was literally nothing any of the faculty here could to to him now – he dove off away from the horror-move-esque terror of Randyll Tarly.
He sought out the locker room, where he'd stored one of the expensive suits Tywin insisted on buying for him, and changed quickly, trying to keep the nostalgia at bay. (Although maybe it was allowed; he was graduating. This was it, his rite of passage.) The academia gowns were in the school colours, red and black – honestly, what with the red and black dragon motif all over Rhaegar's house, Jaime did worry for Principal Aerys' mental health sometimes – and the moment it was on, and he realized he had to give in his locker key now, it hit Jaime like that metaphorical ton of bricks.
Jaime had been given that key when he was a tiny little absurdly hot baby freshman, and come September he was going to be a freshman again, but in a whole bigger ball game. He'd been given that key when he was just a kid, vandalised it several times, lost it countlessly, and how many times had he held it in his hand as he walked down the halls, how many times had he clicked that key in that lock (and pretended to search for homework he hadn't done for the teachers' sake more than his)? No, Jaime, fucking no. Dignity. He grinned at himself. He was pretty sure nobody else would ever look this good in a grad cap (no matter how hard Cersei tried).
He fished out his phone from his jeans and pulled up messaging, clicking on Brienne's contact, which was saved as wench and had the contact picture of a road sign that said WRECKAGE. He had to have funny pictures for everyone. Lyanna's was a disgusting looking meatball sub. Rhaegar's was prince charming. Were r u? He tapped in, glancing at the time. btw hows the hotttt outfit treatin u, i personally am too sexy for my shirt
The reply came after a few minutes. It doesn't fit. And a few seconds later; Waiting in the main hall where you publically obliterated yourself. Everyone's passing time whilst the chairs are being set up outside.
Outside. Ah yes; the unexpected return of a dream of summer had given the school faculty cause to make a last minute switch and decide to hold the high school graduation on a temporary stage in the grass in the outside world. He didn't doubt that would be where he found his family. So he made his way there, passing Rhaegar Targaryen, who was on the way to the locker rooms as Jaime left, and true to the texts all the graduating class' parents were milling around, talking and thanking teachers and shaking hands and getting teary-eyed over the sights of their kids, half of whom were changed and half were not, echoey chatter filling the room.
Tywin was terrifying one of Cersei's teachers with his imposing eyes and poker-straight posture, whilst Cersei flipped her hair about and looked down her nose at various passing ex-students to be, occasionally snapping some comment into their father's conversation. Tywin told Jaime very firmly that he would be with him in a minute, which meant not till he'd finished dealing with Cersei's ex-educator who was probably very glad to be Cersei's ex educator, so Jaime decided to go be oh glorious saviour to Brienne, who was looking extremely uncomfortable – and she pretty much always looked uncomfortable in one way or another – in the corner with somebody Jaime assumed to be her brother and some chick he assumed to be her brother's girlfriend, whilst Selwyn Tarth was talking to Hoster Tully.
"That's not too small for you." Jaime retorted as a greeting, and then turned to Galladon Tarth, who was shorter than his younger sister. "Jaime Lannister, knight in shining graduation cap, ex-quarterback, science partner in law and professional ass. Apparently I'm an amateur singer of terribly songs now. I expect you've heard a lot about me." He nodded modestly and flashed his Jaime fucking Lannister smile. Brienne looked torn between killing herself and killing him, as she did so often.
Galladon nodded, grinning. "Right, yeah, the famous science partner. You're – exactly like Brienne said you were." Scarlet flushed, creeping up Brienne's neck.
"Brienne," Jaime smiled. "Have you been telling people I'm fantastically beautiful again?"
"Be quiet, or I'm going to strangle you in your sleep." Brienne muttered to her feet.
"You're going to watch me while I sleep?"
"I promised Hoster Tully that I would be your science partner this year, that contract ends when we graduate and I will no longer have to put up with you."
"But then who would drag you onstage in front of the entire school and serenade you with shit ballads?" And kiss your face off afterward.
"You two are really cute." The girl hanging around Galladon grinned, who Jaime assumed was Alysanne The Girlfriend. Shockingly, she was not being sarcastic. Shockingly, nobody ever really seemed to be concerning the two of them anymore. Shockingly, Jaime did not give a shit. It just made it funnier when he was, from where he was standing.
"You know, I think they're going to get along great with Lyanna Stark." Jaime told Brienne, who rolled her eyes but smiled.
After a while, Jaime went to find Rhaegar, and the two had a chat and a reminiscence that would have left Jaime teary eyed where he a girl – Ashara Dayne was already crying – and then, finally, Principal Aerys came to announce that the stage was ready, and could all visitors please take a seat out on the grass, and could all graduating students follow Mr Selmy. They did, all of whom were now changed, and they were lead through to the double-doors that lead out onto the field, where Selmy continued to congratulate them and thank them for being great students. Or something. Jaime wasn't really listening, he was too wrapped up in the moment.
One by one, by alphabetical order, he watched from the wings as his (ex) friends went out and climbed the stage, shook Principal Targaryen's hand, collected diplomas, cried. And eventually, they got to the Ls. Cersei went out first, militarily easy, and someone in the crowd cheered. Whether that was for her in general or for her leaving this school for good Jaime could not say. Westeros had always harboured mixed feelings when it came to his twin; half of them loved her, half of them wanted to steal her hair products and stab her to death. Not with the hair products. Maybe. (Would that work?) (If she wasn't his twin and he didn't love her for that, Jaime might have wanted to try that out.)
And then they were announcing him, and Jaime was almost confused, because this couldn't be it, he couldn't be graduating high school? But this was, and he was, so he stepped out onto the temporary platform without even being aware of it, and before he knew what was going on, he had the man who was once his principal's sweat, and a piece of paper in his hand, and just before he dismounted the stage, Jaime found his fathers eyes, and for maybe the first time, like, ever, thought he detected a hint of pride there.
He wasn't that aware of anyone else graduating after that, just Brienne, and then it was over.
Afterward, when he was sure that somebody had told Tywin what Jaime had done at prom, said at prom, Jaime slipped off to find her, and he recalled something they had said what seemed like fifty thousand years ago, at Highgarden Manor. And he wasn't sure why, in fact he felt like hitting himself for being such a fucking cheesy jackass, but he squeezed her hand and said, with a strange realization dawning on him, "We're adults now."
"Maybe officially but I still think you're twelve in your head." Brienne told him, but there was a ghost of a smile on her face, and her eyes were bright.
"Nah." Jaime grinned. "I think maybe I'm fourteen since you. Anyway," He shrugged. "You know what comes now, don't you?"
"What?"
"The adventures of Super Jock and Awkward Girl."
A/N ~ I'll see you all in the epilogue for tears and nostalgia (and that's on my part, not the characters'), and information about when the sequel comes out. One more update!