“He was-”
“No, I heard you.” He cleared his throat a few times.
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Yellow said. He took the pipe back from Chris and sat down at the picnic table. He got out a plastic bag from his back pocket.
“Yea…” Jack agreed, not knowing what else to do or say. Chris squinted at the grass for a second before breathing in sharply.
“This is Evan. Sorry, I’m ripped,” He said. He scooted back to sit cross-legged on top of the table.
“Oh, right, your name’s Jack, yea?” Evan asked, also realizing he hadn’t introduced himself. He pinched out more weed from the bag into the pipe.
“Yea.” With the immediate danger gone, Jack’s body relaxed. Pangs shot up his spine from being rammed into a door frame. He sat at the picnic table across from Evan to wait it out. Quinn didn’t sit but stood nearby.
“Wait, aren’t you the new kid who slapped Heather with a frog?” He asked, his freckles warping with the grin on his face. He resealed the plastic bag and stuffed it back in his pocket.
“I-yea,” Jack said reluctantly.
“She had it comin’,” Evan said, taking a hit off of the freshly reloaded pipe.
“Lay off. She’s going through enough as is.” Chris said, absently watching the grass sway in the breeze. Evan noticed Jack’s eyebrows scrunch.
“Her friend Amanda went missing. Ran off with a forty-year-old boyfriend,” Evan said, maintaining the dumb smirk, though it didn’t reach his eyes anymore.
“She also worked with Kyle at the gas station. She’s the one who got him fired,” Chris said. He thought over what that implied and shook his head. “She’s probably with her boyfriend.”
“Back to the weaponized amphibians, I’m a fan of your work, what inspired it? I know Heather can be a pushy flirt, but you really knocked her out of orbit,” Evan said, using his hands while he talked for emphasis. Jack groaned and rubbed at his face.
“She’s mad, isn’t she?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Pissed. She even complained to me about it,” Chris mumbled.
“That’s because you told everyone she got slapped with a frog,” Evan laughed.
“Karma’s a bitch, not me.”
Jack glanced over at Quinn. He was inspecting his burnt hand with a stoic expression. He genuinely didn't seem to be in any pain or discomfort. The first aid could wait a minute.
“I mean, she’s not exactly the easiest, but she’s blown Chris. You’re not into her?” Evan asked. Chris glared, annoyed at having this information shared.
My brain must have stopped working. That can’t be what he said. “I don’t, uh?”
“Huh, he’s not a slut like you,” Evan said to Chris.
“He’s just dumb,” Chris said, his missing eyebrow twitching.
“I’m not good with girls,” Jack said. His ears were hot. He picked at a chipped knot on the table.
“Oh,” Evan said, surprised. He watched for a second too long. The information registered a little too quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Jack insisted, the embarrassment creeping onto his face. His hands were clammy with sweat. There was no way this guy could have figured it out. Not after knowing him for all of five minutes.
“I just assumed-”
“Are we still going to your place tomorrow?” Chris asked, changing the subject. The intensely awkward atmosphere was enough for him to intervene, though he was unable to pick up on the potential subtext. He was more concerned with watching Quinn inspect his hand.
“Right, Devon has the day off,” Evan remembered. “Do you wanna come?” Jack looked to Chris for a read on how to answer. Chris shrugged with one shoulder, barely able to pull himself away from the sight of the large blister on Quinn’s thumb.
“I’m suspended. I won't be at school.”
“Me either, I’m driving,” Evan said, unphased.
Jack didn't have any tangible reason to refuse. Devon and Chris were going to be there, so it wouldn’t be awkward. If Evan had already figured him out he could just deny it. Refusing might bring more attention to himself.
“Sure,” he ended up saying.
“What the fuck?” Chris exhaled, watching Quinn pop the large blister. Stretched skin hung loose as clear fluid oozed out.
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