Just in case, no I don't own Jimmy Two-Shoes. If I did, I don't think this would be considered fanfiction.
Further setting things up!
I felt bad about how long this took to come out, which is part of why it's longer than the first chapter. It would have been longer but I decided to cut it where it is. (The other reason is that I just tend to write more now lol.) I don't like posting this far apart honestly; my next long fic for this fandom is going to be entirely written before I start posting. Speaking of which, there are references to it here that make sense to me and me only because it isn't posted yet.
I've had issues with writers block for my J2S stuff in particular (which is gone now, I think) and motivation, so I was working on other stuff, mainly personal projects but also fics for other fandoms. As well as a like, 8K word long AU one shot that needs to go under heavy editing before it ever sees the light of day but actually IS for J2S. Funny how these things work.
Also, I crosspost everything to AO3! So in case FFN shuts down for real (and considering what happened a couple months ago, I'm getting kind of scared that it will), my stuff is also on there, usually posted a little sooner. There's also the app, which did work while the website/mobile version of FFN was down.
Anyways, without further adieu, I hope you enjoy!
"...You know, Heloise, I really appreciate that you could make this meeting, but it isn't worth putting your health on the line for. I would've been happy to reschedule to a later date—"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Actually, Heloise absolutely does know what he's talking about. After her call with Jimmy (in which they made plans to go to lunch together), she immediately started working on one of her projects, which she finished, so she stayed up all night working on another. She finished that one as well, but also wound up skipping dinner and only had thirty minutes to get ready for her first meeting today… so she wound up skipping breakfast, too, in favor of a quick shower and a shave. At least she got a cheap tasting coffee from the student center café, though it makes her combination minor head injury/sleep deprivation induced migraine even less bearable.
To say the least, she looks terrible and feels worse. But hey, she's got room in her schedule now.
Dorkus (her counselor) looks uncomfortable, but continues. "Well, alright then," he splutters. "You wanted to discuss the requirements of your scholarship?"
"Yes," she hisses and nods emphatically. "I did. That's what I wrote in my email."
He glances over his computer. Heloise can't see it from the other side of his desk, but she can tell it's a little outdated; five years at the very least, but it's probably closer to a decade.
Wow, Heloise muses. This school has shit funding.
After scrolling for a minute, Dorkus adjusts his glasses and turns back to face her. "It looks like you're on track at the moment. Although we'll want a progress report by midterms."
Heloise stares at him, deadpan. "That's it?"
"For now," he replies. When she doesn't stop staring at him, he continues. "Is…Is there anything else that you wanted to discuss?"
A new wave of grogginess hits her, and she feels like a zombie. The caffeine must be wearing off.
"Yeah," Heloise says. When did her voice get so raspy, geez? She clears her throat to no avail. "I, um…"
Instead of saying what she was going to say, she lets out an inelegant groan and rubs at her forehead.
Dorkus frowns. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine," Heloise lies. "I just pulled an all nighter, that's all."
"Heloise, I know the chancellor encourages those, but—" Dorkus suddenly looks around, as if he's afraid they're being watched. He leans closer and whispers. "They really aren't good for you. Try to avoid them."
She's too tired for this. "Get away from me before I do something I won't regret."
"Right, sorry." Dorkus backs up. "I just hate to see you put yourself at risk like that."
Heloise blinks. Genuine concern from a staff member. Weird.
She shakes her head. "Fine, whatever. I wanted to ask about transferring."
"So soon?" He looks somewhere between disappointed and relieved.
"Maybe," Heloise says. "I'm thinking about it. But if I do transfer, I want to be as soon as possible. When would the deadline for that be…?"
Dorkus looks back at his computer. "Well, if you wanted to be at a new school by next semester… we'd need to get the paperwork done by finals."
Finals. Okay. That works. She could get this figured out by finals, no doubt about it.
"Is that all?"
For the first time in weeks, Heloise smiles (admittedly, though, it's more from satisfaction than actual happiness). "Yeah. That's all."
The chancellor wants to meet at his campus house instead of his office. It's only a ten minute walk from the building Dorkus's office is in, which normally wouldn't be much of an issue for Heloise. Unfortunately, today she feels like shit and also it's absolutely sweltering outside. So it is very much an issue.
As such, the ten minute walk drags on painfully until she finally arrives at the gates. They're tall, but the bars are thin enough so that she can see the house and its surrounding garden behind them. It's even bigger than Jimmy and Beezy's 'dorm', with more columns, larger windows, and several fountains. It's more akin to a megamansion than a house.
This is a public university, Heloise thinks, baffled. Is this where all the funding went?
Regardless of her opinion on the way the school spends its money, Heloise approaches the gate, to which she is immediately greeted by a speaker and a camera. The camera, attached to flexible metal tubing, moves around freely; examining her like bacteria under a microscope. Annoyed, Heloise squirms away, not that it does her any good. The camera follows.
"State your name and business."
Yeesh. Grating. "Heloise. I'm here to talk about the commission that I'm doing."
"Heloise who?"
"It's just Heloise."
"If you aren't going to give me your last name—"
Growling, she grabs the camera, squeezing tightly right where the device met the tubing and peers deep into the lens. "How about Heloise the nine A.M. appointment?"
The camera almost sounds like it's choking, and the person on the other end of the receiver laughs nervously. Heloise can hear them flipping through files and papers. She lets go of the camera, which backs as far away from her as it possibly can.
"...Heloise, Heloise, Heloise… Ah! Here we are. The nine A.M. appointment. Come inside!"
At that, the gates open; slowly, and with a subtle creek to them.
The chancellor's exuberant demonstration of wealth does not end with the outside of his house. Every room and hallway Heloise walks through as she follows his assistant (Doctor Samy Garvin, as he had introduced himself, who is actually the vice-chancellor despite doing all the work of a secretary/personal assistant) to his office makes this abundantly clear.
Large portraits of previous chancellors line the walls, each with ornate frames. Statues, vases, and other ornate art pieces decorate the space as well. A thick shag carpet that matches the blood-red of the walls covers the floor. The AC is running at its highest level, which is the one incredibly expensive thing that Heloise appreciates.
The door to the chancellor's office is tall, wide, and painted a dark black. It's intended to be intimidating in the same way the hallway was designed to make whoever was walking through feel poorer in comparison. Maybe it works on other people, but to Heloise, it just screams fragility.
Samy knocks at the door, emitting a deep, hollow noise. "Dr. Heinous! Your nine A.M. appointment is here!"
The door swings open automatically, hitting Samy and nearly knocking him over in the process. Heloise stifles a laugh (and then a yawn).
"Come in," beckons the chancellor— Dr. Heinous, obviously. Heloise walks past Samy, who is evidently in some pain thanks to a large wooden door being slammed into him.
The inside of Dr. Heinous's office is just as meticulously decorated as the rest of his house. Large windows with velvet curtains, lush carpeting, an intricately designed desk stained with shiny black varnish. Behind said desk, a tall, leather seat that resembles a throne more than it does a chair.
And, of course, sitting in that chair was Dr. Heinous himself.
"Heloise," he says, hands folded.
"Dr. Heinous," she replies, matching his tone: steady and guarded. Her voice, though, is a little thicker thanks to her exhaustion.
He gestures to a much smaller chair, facing him. "Take a seat."
As she goes to finally sit down, the door shuts automatically, with a loud click. Samy yelps from the hallway, muffled from the door between them.
"Let's skip the formalities." Dr. Heinous opens a drawer and takes out some papers, stable together in the upper right corner.
A contract, she realizes.
Heloise boredly drills her fingers on the desk. "What do you want, exactly?"
Dr. Heinous— Lucius, as she reads from a nameplate to her left, blinks. "Something…"
"Something?"
"You know, something…" He looks at everything but Heloise. "Big. And flashy. Something that'll really show the world what the Heinous— Miseryville University is all about."
Lucius gestures both vaguely and with much grandiosity. Heloise remains unimpressed. And at that, unshocked. Of course Miseryville University is all about torture. She's gone here long enough to already know that. Mostly, she focuses on how he hasn't actually answered her question.
"You don't have any ideas for it at all, do you?" Heloise asks.
"I—" Lucius splutters, finally settling his gaze on her as he narrows his eyes. "Certainly you have an idea of what I'm paying you to build."
"You commissioned me," Heloise replies, unintimidated. "Traditionally, commissioners have an idea of what they want their commission to look like."
Lucius grins stiffly, baring his fangs in the process. "Try not to think of this as a commission."
She'll think of it as a commission all she likes, but plays along. "What should I think of it as, then?"
"An additional requirement for your scholarship, with the money just so happening to go into your bank account instead of your scholarship fund," Lucius replies. "A project."
"Fine." Heloise sucks her teeth. "It's a scholarship project. Still need requirements."
"Make whatever you want," Lucius says. "It just needs to be impressive. And preferably capable of tormenting multiple students and staff members at once."
"I can do that. I might need some…" She rubs her thumb against her index and middle fingers. "Inspiration."
Always good to know how much you're getting compensated for your work beforehand.
"Of course," Lucius says, dully, checking a nail. "How's… I don't know, one hundred thousand dollars?"
One hundred thousand dollars is great. One hundred thousand dollars is amazing.
One hundred thousand dollars is an insane first offer. Moreso, she'd be insane not to take it.
Because one hundred thousand dollars is more than enough to ditch her scholarship here and move to a new, not terrible school.
And if she doesn't… a bigger fund for her personal projects would be more than a little nice.
"One hundred thousand is good," Heloise replies, satisfied. "And the resources?"
"Anything you need." He clasps his hands together. "After I approve the design."
"Naturally," Heloise says, still very sure that this is a commission. "When do you want the mock-ups?"
"September tenth. Our next meeting."
He signs the contract, in the dark ink of a ballpoint pen and hands the paper and writing implement to her.
"How does that sound?"
Heloise reads over the contract, silently, careful to make sure her tired eyes don't miss any important details.
One requirement in particular stands out to her.
The torture device should be done before winter break.
By finals.
She signs her name. "It sounds perfect."
Heloise has some time to kill before going to lunch with Jimmy. Either she'll head back to her dorm and take a much needed nap, or she'll feed her piranhas (maybe she could use them in the commission? No, they're too personal…). After walking into a tree and then a stop sign, Heloise opts to take the nap and feed the piranhas later.
She gets back to the dorm right after Jean gets back from… some sorority thing, probably.
"You still look like shit," Jean says, dressed today in a flowy pink sundress. "Just so you know."
Ugh, gross, she brought one of her friends: a periwinkle skinned girl with indigo hair tied into high pigtails with pink ribbons. Her dress matches Jean's, but her… energy is completely different. She's sweet looking (ew), with doe eyes that match her hair and a soft smile. Not the sort of person Heloise would imagine Jean to hang out with, but appearances can be deceiving (Heloise herself is a bit of an expert on that particular subject).
"Jean!" The girl says, sounding shocked. Huh, maybe she really is nice. "That was really mean… unless you guys are close, and that's just, like, an inside joke?"
A moment of silence follows, before both Jean and Heloise start laughing.
"Kryssi, you slay me!" Jean says, through fits of giggles. Recomposing herself, she continues. "I genuinely want her dead."
Heloise rolls her eyes. "The feeling is mutual."
"Oh." Kryssi bites her lip uncomfortably. "Okay."
Why this girl, all… fluffy and soft, hangs out with Jean, is completely beyond Heloise, not that she much cares. She has something to rub in Jean's face. "Anyways, I'm going to take a nap before Jimmy —the guy I met yesterday— picks me up for lunch."
"Yeah, you need the beauty rest." Jean crosses her arms.
She knows that Jean is probably just trying to get under her skin, and that she shouldn't let it phase her… but that doesn't mean it doesn't.
"You say that, and yet I'm the one actually going out on a date," Heloise replies.
"I've had more than you," Jean shoots back. "Besides, an inexperienced freshman and an upperclassman? I couldn't possibly imagine why he'd be interested in going on a date with you."
Kryssi shrinks away, cringing. Again, her and Jean being friends makes zero sense.
"He's not like that." Heloise balls her fists. Of course Jimmy isn't going to be like that. Especially since what they're doing isn't actually a date, not that Jean needs to know that.
Jean sneers. "You keep telling yourself that."
"I will, because I'm right," Heloise huffs, turns on her heel, entering her room and slamming the door behind her.
She doesn't know jack shit.
Obviously, Heloise thinks to herself.
Jean hasn't lived with her long enough. Heloise is not the sort of girl who gets taken advantage of.
After kicking her shoes off, she crawls into bed, exhausted and angry; immediately falling asleep the second her head hits the pillow.
Heloise wakes up to the sound of the same default text tone going off, several times in a row. Groggily, she opens her eyes and takes her phone off her nightstand.
Five messages, all from Jimmy.
Hey Heloise!
Be there in then
ten*
Do you want to meet me in the lobby or outside
Also you live in Heinous hall right?
She can still hear Jean and what's-her-face talking outside. Heloise unlocks her phone and opens the message app, tentatively typing out a reply.
Yeah I live in Heinous Hall. I'm fine meeting you outside.
Heloise climbs out of bed and does her best to press the wrinkles out of her (casual but still quite nice, by the way) outfit, and, after receiving a thumbs up reaction and a 'sounds great! See you soon :D' reply from Jimmy, pockets her phone.
Since she doesn't have a mirror in her room, Heloise has to finish getting ready in the common area of the dorm. It won't take her long, she'll just brush her hair enough to look presentable, maybe splash some water in her face…
It's not a date, but Jean (and also that girl, Krysti or Kacey or… something) can't really know that. Heloise has to look like she actually cares what Jimmy thinks. Maybe she'll put on some lip balm for good measure.
She slips into a different pair of shoes and opens the door. Jean and that girl got some take-out pizza. Lord, it smells good. Way better than some cheap on-campus restaurant pizza should. How long has it been since she's last eaten, exactly?
Jean's friend smiles. "You want some?"
"No," Heloise and Jean say in unison.
Oh, ew, gross, that was horrible, consider her appetite officially gone forever.
Jean, for her part, looks pretty taken aback as well. "Don't offer her any, Kryssi. I'm not letting her eat anything that I paid for."
"Sorry," Kryssi says, shrinking in on herself.
"I didn't want any in the first place," Heloise lies. " I'm going out, remember?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Jean replies, and she goes back to scrolling on her phone and eating pizza. Kryssi awkwardly nibbles at her own slice while they sit in silence.
Truly, the beauty of friendship, Heloise muses, as she turns to examine herself in the mirror.
Honestly, she looks a little better: the nap helped, though her eyes still appear sunken into her face, and her hair is a little messy. She takes out her ponytail, runs her hands under cold water, and then brushes her fingers through her hair until it's smooth. Satisfied, she puts her hair up again and opens a drawer to get some lip balm that she got at one of those weird mandatory freshman welcoming events. It's untinted and has some weird unidentifiable sweet flavor to it (which tastes disturbingly good at the moment— maybe her appetite hasn't been totally lost), but it works well enough.
As she leaves, Heloise lets the door slam behind her. Hard.
Jimmy's car would be easy to spot even if it wasn't parallel parked right in front of the building. Yesterday, he sent her a picture so she'd know, but Heloise could probably guess even without seeing it first. It's this truly hideous, definitely-used lime green fiat. The sort of thing that you have to see to really believe.
He waves at her from the driver's seat.
When Heloise tries to open the door, it barely moves. Jimmy rolls down the window.
"It gets kind of sticky sometimes," he says, reaching over. "Here, let me…"
Jimmy sticks his tongue out and wiggles something (probably the inner door handle) for about fifteen seconds until the door unlocks.
"There you go!"
Heloise slides into the car seat and buckles in. "Thanks."
This is not looking to be a very promising experience. It seems that he pre-adjusted the seat for her himself (she only has to do a little fine-tuning herself), which Heloise is admittedly mildly appreciative of.
As Jimmy pulls out, Heloise takes note of the rest of the interior. He's got a cinnamon scented air freshener attached to the front air conditioner and these weird beaded seat covers. Once he gets on the road, he reaches for the radio before suddenly stopping.
"You like Runny and the Nosebleeds?" Jimmy asks.
"Yeah." Heloise decidedly does not disclose that she has all of their albums back at home, a middle school fan account for them which she hasn't touched in years, or that she was the person who leaked the demos for their fifth album to Spewtube.
To say the least, she's a casual fan.
"Cool!" Jimmy grins and finally turns on the radio, which, obviously, plays Runny and the Nosebleeds.
Heloise expects Jimmy to try and make more small talk as he drives, but he seems much more focused on driving. Well, more specifically, he seems very focused on the speedometer, not that it does him much good. He alternates between going a little too fast and a little too slow. It makes enjoying the music a little hard.
"Maybe you should look at the road more," Heloise offers.
"I do look at the road," Jimmy says, looking at the speedometer.
She pinches the bridge of her nose. "But you look at the speedometer more."
"Because I need to know how fast I'm going." There's a red light. He breaks. "When I don't, I'm always either too over or too under the speed limit."
"You're already always either too over or too under the speed limit."
"Yeah, but this way, I can correct myself faster."
Heloise sighs, loud and heavy. She has an idea. A kind of dumb one. But an idea nonetheless.
"Okay, well, how about you keep your eyes on the road and I tell you when you need to slow down or speed up?"
Green light. They have to wait for the car ahead of them to go.
"Okay," Jimmy replies, slowly, shifting his eyes to the street. "Let's try that."
Normally, Heloise would be annoyed she can't zone out while someone else is driving, but right now 'not dying' is higher on her list of priorities.
So she leans over, just so that she's closer to the speedometer, and lets her gaze flicker between it and road signs displaying the speed limit.
"You're under. Pedal to the metal."
Jimmy takes orders well. Maybe a little too well, sometimes.
"Now you're over."
The drive isn't long, only about fifteen minutes. Jimmy pulls into the parking lot of Lilith's, the 'super cute just off of campus 50s themed diner' tour guides always mention to unsuspecting parents and teenagers in an attempt to convince them to apply to Miseryville U. Of course, given how excited Jimmy seemed when they were making plans on the phone, and now still as he parks, maybe it lives up to the hype (or maybe not. Jimmy seems like an excited person in general).
He opens the door almost as soon as he turns the car off. "You ready?"
"Sure," Heloise says, still a bit too out of it to fake any enthusiasm.
There's a bell on the door that chimes as Jimmy opens it (and then he very politely holds it open for her).
The fifties theme is all over the place, from the tile flooring to the actual, working jukebox on the far right side of the restaurant. It's something Heloise finds herself having some appreciation of. She's actually pretty fond of 1950s aesthetics (though she tends to personally prefer mid-century modern over retro-futurism). Even if it isn't the most historically accurate, it's pleasing to the eye.
While taking an order, a roller skate wearing waitress in her mid-to-late thirties greets Jimmy as he and Heloise walk to a booth.
"Hey, Jimmy!"
He smiles and waves back. "Hi, Lily!"
More of the waitstaff and even some of the customers recognize him. Completely unrelated, Heloise suddenly realizes how much time she spends in her dorm.
As they sit down into the slightly-sticky leather (pleather?) seats of the booth, the same waitress from earlier skates over, two large, laminated menus in tow. She places them vertically on either side of the table, one for Jimmy and one for Heloise.
"How're y'all doing?" She asks, pulling a pen and notepad from her apron pocket. The question is very obviously more directed towards Jimmy than Heloise, and he happily answers her.
"Great!" Jimmy glances at Heloise, a little expectantly, but not demandingly; like he thought Linda or whatever her name is was talking to her, too,
Heloise shrugs. "Fine."
"Well, I hope we can turn that 'fine' into a 'good'!" The waitress grins. "I haven't seen you 'round here before, this your first time?"
"Yep." Heloise does not return the smile. Her nap is wearing off and her patience is about to start running thin. She should've brought her freeze gun.
"Her name's Heloise," Jimmy interjects. "She's my friend."
Whatever the waitress says next— she left after, so probably something about having a nice day or leaving them to order— Heloise does not catch. She's too busy being taken off guard by Jimmy saying she's his friend.
"I ordered you a water, I hope that's okay. You seemed kinda… spaced out." Jimmy looks over his menu. "I try to get something different every time I'm here. I'm thinking about—"
"You said I was your friend."
"Well, yeah." Jimmy looks at her and tilts his head to the side, slightly. "Because we're friends."
Heloise shakes her head. "No, we're not."
It's Jimmy's turn to be confused. "What do you mean, we're not…? We're hanging out, and… and back in the car—"
"That was out of self-preservation," Heloise says, bitingly. "And we aren't 'hanging out'. This is basically a consultation meeting. You're going to help me like our school better. I don't need friends to do that."
"Oh." He sort of sinks in on himself. "But we could still be friends."
"We aren't," Heloise reminds him, as she's begun to read the menu.
They're both very quiet, after that.
Finally.
In spite of their silence (their silence, because the other patrons of the diner are being very loud), Heloise can hear Jimmy's hopes shattering.
It takes a few moments, but Jimmy breaks the silence.
"You never took it off," he says, softly.
Heloise looks up. They're both holding their menus up, but neither high enough so that it covers their faces. Their eyes meet. "What?"
"Your bandage," Jimmy clarifies, "you've still got it on."
"Oh, yeah." Heloise bites her lip. "I never took it off, and I guess it didn't come off in the shower."
"I used a waterproof one." He does something with his mouth that looks kind of like a smile, but only kind of. "They stay on better."
"Well," she says, looking back down at her menu. "Thank you. For that."
"No prob—"
There's a slight whirring sound, and then two thumps on the table. Jimmy and Heloise look up, simultaneously. The waitress has come back, holding her pen and notepad already.
"Got y'all's drinks," she says. "Ready to order?"
Jimmy points to something on his menu, even though he's holding it at an angle the waitress can't see it. "The number twelve, please. With a fruit cup."
"Sounds great!" The waitress writes down his order on her notepad and takes Jimmy's menu. She turns to Heloise. "And for you, hon?"
"Um…" Heloise looks between the menu and the waitress. She hadn't actually absorbed much of what she read off the menu. Heloise hands the waitress (Lila?) her menu. "I'll just have what he's having. And a coffee."
The waitress nods and writes it down. "I'll get that out in a jiffy!"
And then she skates off into the distance.
"What is the number twelve, by the way?" Heloise asks, taking a sip of the water Jimmy ordered for her. It's ice cold, which sends a much-welcome shock through her system.
"Technically, it's my first time getting it, but I've had everything in it separately before, so I know it's going to be super yummy. Dark chocolate-chip pancakes, toasted kola nut bread, and yerba mate oatmeal!"
Hmm.
Maybe she didn't need to ask for a coffee.
In case I need to explain the joke (which I probably don't), dark chocolate, kola nuts, and yerba mate are all high in caffeine. Dunno if kola nut bread is actually a thing, though, but yerba mate oatmeal is! Apparently. They are not, however, very authentic to the 1950s.
Lily is an OC that I realized I could use (albeit she's characterized way differently to how she usually would be), but Kryssi is just a background character I like that I decided to give the role to. No clue if she has a real name but she's Kryssi here.
Thank you so much for reading! Until next time, which will hopefully be sooner rather than later.