Setting
- 36 posts here • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
Setting
0.00 INK
-------------------------------------------------------
Bailey wasn't the athletic type, but she did love soccer- and boy, was she good at it. Everyone knew it, too.. After all, she had scored 7 points in their last game, which they won, the score being 16-0. She had a game later, and she had been waiting at least 3 weeks; All the other games were rained out.
Setting
0.00 INK
Setting
0.00 INK
The Principal, a balding, middle-aged man who generally had good intentions but tended to come off as excessively ingratiating (not to mention condescending) was attempting to stare him down, and failing miserably. Nobody ever really won in a stare-down with Jack. There were maybe two people who could hold his gaze long enough that he got bored and moved on, but pretty much everyone else lost. Mr. Waters was no exception.
"Emerson-" the man began, but was quickly cut off.
"It's Jack." He hated it when people called him Emerson. His given name was so damn pretentious, just like his entire family. Might as well have broadcast the news live: attention all citizens! The Kleins have more money than they know what to do with, and they're not afraid to rub it in your face.
"Jack," Mr. Waters allowed, trying once again to sustain eye contact with the young man and fixing his gaze on the bridge of his nose instead. "I know that sometimes you feel that Mr. Crowther doesn't use the best teaching methods, but-"
"'Doesn't use the best methods?' He made fun of Bailey Rivers for being short-sighted. What kind of a dumbass teacher does that?" This was, in fact, the latest in a string of abuses (as Jack saw them) against not only Bailey but the students of his class in general. Jack had been raised with just the right mixture of pride and indignance that he wasn't going to let that sort of thing slide for very long. Today had been the final straw. He actually didn't mind Bailey; she wasn't a huge jerk behind his back like most people were, and that sort of crap was uncalled for as far as he was concerned. So he'd gotten stuck in to the arrogant good-for-nothing, and called him out in a scathing monotone. He had, of course been sent to the office straight afterward, and was sitting there even as the bell rang.
"Language, Jack," Mr. Waters reminded him. This was a conversation they'd had before, obvious in the weariness of the principal's voice. In truth, the man didn't care for Sam Crowther either, but the school board wouldn't let him fire the teacher and replace him. "Look, all I'm asking is that you avoid direct confrontation with him. I know you don't respect him, but I want you to respect this school and do your best in the class anyway. We both know you can succeed when you apply yourself, and you don't want your chances at getting into a good college ruined by a failing grade, okay?"
Jack made a sullen grunting sound that meant he grudgingly agreed, and Mr. Waters smiled. "Good. Now, I do believe you have track and field practice this afternoon, so I won't keep you any longer. I hear the team's going to be great this year, so work hard."
The young man didn't bother to respond as he exited, headed for the locker rooms to change. He needed a good run to get the angry out of his system.
Setting
0.00 INK
And Effy couldn't help but smile when Jack Klein stuck up for Bailey. Part of it could also be that Mr. Crowther was such a creeper, and had hit on Effy more than once. It was nice to see him being told off. Plus she liked Jack Klein too. Even though he was kind of an emo kid. But, whatever. He'd always been pretty cool to her, not seeing her as some popular princess, but just a chick you could talk to. And he was kind of cute, although she'd never admit that to anyone.
Effy headed towards the girls' locker room, where she changed into her practice uniform. Time to round up the minions, she thought to herself. She adjusted her ponytail in the mirror, and headed out to the track.
"Okay, ladies. We've got a game tonight tomorrow night, and you better have this routine flawless!" she yelled towards the other cheerleaders. She took her position as head cheerleader very seriously, and found that leadership suited her well. Suited her well, indeed.
Setting
0.00 INK
Setting
0.00 INK
She met his eyes only briefly, and he was struck by how much shorter than him she was. Well, almost everyone was shorter than him, except Caleb Spencer, who actually had an extra inch. But then, he didn't usually stand close enough to people to talk to them, and his height was mostly in his legs, making it a bit less obvious when sitting.
"Oh. Uh, sure, whatever. I mean, you're welcome. Just.. remember to wear your contacts tomorrow. Don't want to give him ammunition and stuff." Jack flinched inwardly. He was really, really bad at talking to people. Math, biology, history.. that kind of thing, he understood. People, especially friendly people he couldn't be a jerk to, were an entirely different story. There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Jack made a vague gesture at the locker rooms. "I've got practice, so..." he nodded to her, heading to the locker room without another word.
A quick change and a few minutes later, the track team was out to practice. As usual, the cheerleaders were in the middle of the field the track circled. Not that it bothered him any. The two groups never really got in each others' way, so Jack never paid it much mind.
Coach was in the middle of the traditional "Let's do great this season" speech she gave at the beginning of every practice before handing out the assignments for the next meet. Jack himself was pretty all-around; he generally anchored a relay, ran a sprint and the mile, and/or pole vaulted. This year, he'd be running the 500, the mile, and high jumping, which was new.
"All right, guys, let's start off with a three-mile run." Coach Lamont, a woman in her mid-thirties with a blond bun and a reputation for being strict but effective both on the track and the classroom (she was the school's only French teacher), clapped her hands to break the meeting, and the boys were off, Jack himself in the middle third of the pack, but already running stronger than most of the others. He'd hang out on the front edge of this group for a while, but what they guys at the front never seemed to get was that this was all about endurance. Later, when they were all tired and panting, he and a few others would pass them all and finish first.
Setting
0.00 INK
OOC: This is her oufit, plus black Adidas soccer cleats.
http://image34.webshots.com/35/7/84/70/ ... dZT_fs.jpg
Setting
0.00 INK
Whether or not there would be an argument remained to be seen, but for now Jack was going to do what Jack did best: ignore everyone else and run. He enjoyed very much the feeling of solitude that running could give a person, even in the middle of a crowd. Focus enough on the sound of your own breathing, on the feel of your feet against the pavement below, and nothing else mattered unless you wanted it to, which Jack rarely did.
Initially, he'd only joined the track team because he was fast and wanted any possible excuse to stay away from home as late as possible. These days, he pretty much did what he wanted and ignored his parents, but he'd stuck with track. He'd come to like it, really, and at least when you were tired at the end of a workout you felt like you'd accomplished something, unlike when you were tired after arguing with your father abut how you weren't your sister and never would be- no. This was his chance to not think about that, and he was going to take it.
Passing the first mile mark, he increased his speed, allowing himself to stretch out a bit more and overtaking a good half the people between himself and the leader in the process. Marcus Dunlap, a football player who did track in his off-season, was currently in front of everyone else, as usual. The guy liked to think he had it all, but it generally just left everyone except his cronies and his girlfriend with a bitter taste in their mouths.
Setting
0.00 INK
Setting
0.00 INK
Still, it wasn't like he thought the track team should have it all to themselves or anything. Granted, they were the winningest team the school had, but... Aw shut it, Jack, you're being an asshole again. sometimes, he caught himself thinking really jerk-like things. most of the time, he put it down to his pretentious upbringing, but he knew he was a bit of an ass himself, sometimes. Still, he was working on it, and generally managed to avoid being too mean to anyone. well, except maybe teachers who didn't know when to lay off.
He briefly debated watching the soccer game, just to kill more time before he had to go home, but then he remembered the big test he had in calculus tomorrow, and groaned inwardly. It wasn't hard, but he did need to maybe actually crack the book once in a while, instead of just faking away the class and doing the worksheets without bothering to put a lot of effort into it.
Decided, he headed back for the locker room and changed, deciding that there was as usual no way he was showering here. Those things were just plain gross; he was pretty sure by now that the mysterious black "stain" on the floors was actually mold. He might have to consider breaking his enforced silence with both his parents just to get them to donate enough to clean the place up, maybe throw in a new field while they were at it. It wasn't as though it would be a problem, and his dad would probably be glad to help out. His mother would complain about the barbarity of sports, but that was mostly for show.
Removing his keys from his backpack, Jack slid his shades onto his face and headed for the parking lot, depressing the button that unlocked his shiny silver Mercedes with a beep. He really, really, didn't want to go home, and any distraction would be welcome, but... there was the test to consider.
Setting
0.00 INK
She continued on, and caught him just as he was climbing into the driver's seat. 'E-.. Jack! Wait!" she called. He didn't hear, but she was actually happy he hadn't because she had screwed up his name. She tried again, "Jack, wait a sec!"
Setting
0.00 INK
He'd been about to slide into the driver's seat, but he switched direction only slightly awkwardly and stood back up, closing the car door with a thud. "Uh... Bailey? Is everything okay?" She was really booking it across the parking lot. Maybe he'd left something out on the track? It wasn't his turn to take care of the equipment today, but if everyone else had already left, he guessed he probably ought to take care of it.
He suddenly wondered if it was rude to talk to people with sunglasses on. He'd seen people do it before, but most of them were jerks anyway. maybe it had something to do with the fact that you couldn't see people's eyes if they did that? Wouldn't that actually make it less rude for him, since most people couldn't sustain eye contact for more than a few seconds anyway? Could one glare behind a pair of shades? Why he cared, he didn't know, and he ultimately decided to leave them on, since it might look weird if he took them off for no reason. So maybe she didn't know he was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something. Either way, she would eventually, right?
Setting
0.00 INK
"Aaare you busy?" The words slipped effortlessly out of her mouth. She was normally very shy around people she wasn't close with, but suddenly she felt comfortable around him. "I was wondering if you'd like to stay for the game, and see our amazing and brilliant home team take the prize." She giggled silently, and was surprised at her own outgoingness. She was actually kind of proud of herself.
Setting
0.00 INK
He didn't think Bailey Rivers was attractive! Well, okay, that was kind of a lie; it was well-acknowledged by the general male population of their high school that she was, but he didn't usually want to kiss her senseless, did he? No, that was definitely not normal. Jack was a rational, cold human being. In fact, he'd been informed on numerous occasions that his general humanity was also in question due to his lack of discernible feeling. Isabella was fond of telling him that he had two modes: robot and jerk robot. Neither one of which quite accounted for whatever this was.
He needed out of this situation, and now. No way he was going to risk the loss of his self-control, no matter the reason. "Uh... sorryIreallycan'tclactesttomorrowgoodluckwithyourgamethough," he managed all in one breath, then nearly dived into his car, revving the engine and backing out- and blessedly, blessedly away from whatever the heck was going on.
Nice job, Jack. Now she thinks you hate her, AND you're running from your problems.
Setting
0.00 INK
Setting
0.00 INK
The young man shuddered, and pulled into his garage, not even bothering to lock his doors before grabbing his school stuff and running upstairs to his study. He'd be alone, now, as his parents wouldn't be home for another couple hours at least, and his sister was away at college. Dumping his backpack on the floor beside his desk, he collapsed into the accompanying office chair, breathing a sigh of relief. That had been close... to what, exactly, he wasn't precisely sure, but it would have been bad. Even now, he felt somewhat compelled to go back.
Yikes. No way he was doing that shit, no matter how badly his stupid inner self was telling him he wanted to. For once, he was relieved to be doing calculus homework. Nothing quite killed any remotely hormonal feeling quicker than calc. Already he was relaxing substantially, and managed to push whatever the hell he was feeling from his brain, focused as it was on the strictly logical art of relating number to each other for no other reason than because he could.
Setting
0.00 INK
Soccer had been Bailey's favoriet past time for over 5 years now. Whenever she was stressed, sad, or any type of upset, she would go out in her medium-sized backyard and kick around her soccer ball. Even when she was happy. If she was just plain bored she'd start kicking that old soccer ball around. And it wasn't that the game was just fun for her; it upped her self-confidence, and it made her feel on top of the world. It made her feel powerful.
But now, she was surprising herself. She felt such a need for that boy she barely knew, she wanted to skip what made her the happiest. She didn't know why she was feeling this way, but she was. And she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. Either way, she wasn't going to let her team down. But maybe, just maybe, she could bring herself to go to his house to visit him later tonight, after her and her team win the game...
Setting
0.00 INK
Standing, he shook out his limbs before padding downstairs in search of something to eat. Technically, his family employed a full household staff, certified chef included, but Jack was the sort of person who was more inclined to do things his own way, and as a result, he'd asked Antonio (said chef) to teach him how to cook. Like most things he enjoyed, Jack wound up very good at it, and Antonio was usually quite happy to let him wander about the kitchen as he pleased. It was one less thing for the beleaguered Italian man to do, after all, and Jack rarely got in the way.
that said, Jack was more in the mood for takeout and television at the moment, and so he rummaged around in the fridge, coming up with several of those smallish white boxes you got from cheap Chinese restaurants. Antonio, busy preparing dinner for Jack's parents, caught sight of them and shook his head disapprovingly, but he wouldn't say anything about it. Jack liked that about the man: he was a good guy, and didn't go out of the way to make himself a pain in the ass.
Wending his way through the house, he selected one of the smaller rooms with a TV (which was still twice as big as the average bedroom, not to mention the fact that the TV was high-definition and flatscreen) and plopped himself on the sofa, switching on the box with a remote on the redwood coffee table. Crossing his legs underneath him, he tucked into the food with a pair of chopsticks, occasionally flipping channels when he got bored.
Setting
0.00 INK
Bailey went back to the locker room to change, ignored loud, aloof preps, grabbed her bag, and left. She began down the sidewalk in the dark, like she always did, and began the 15 minute walk home.
Setting
0.00 INK
Depositing his carton in a trash can, the young man stretched and yawned slightly, glancing up at his clock. Huh. That time already? It had to be dark out by now. Not that this meant anything in particular to him; he was something of a nocturnal creature by habit, and morning classes were always a bit of a challenge. Good habit to be in for college, maybe.
Which reminded him: his mother was going to be bothering him about that soon, and if he didn't at least figure out a way to fake some interest in at least a few places, she'd probably throw another fit and tell him he wasn't ambitious enough, like she always did. Whatever. He considered taking a walk outside to calm his mind, but he really wasn't stressed enough to warrant the action at present, so instead he headed back to his study, grabbing a random book off the shelf and plonking himself lengthwise over a leather couch. He could hear the sounds of the staff greeting his mother downstairs; doubtless it would still be a few hours before Mr. Klein showed up.
Setting
0.00 INK
"I said no!" Bailey called out, heart racing, but to no prevail.
Setting
0.00 INK
"I'm planning on going for a walk," he replied in a deadpan, pulling his coat on. It was a bit chilly out, he supposed, and donned a dark green scarf as well. Best to be prepared; he had no idea how long it would take to cool off from this one. Probably until his parents were in bed asleep.
"Emerson-" his mother started in a bossy tone, but she simply glared and continued walking. In truth, he didn't like making his parents mad, it just seemed to happen a lot. Shooting a quick glance at Rosmerta, the maid, as he passed, he caught the look of sympathy there and was somewhat relieved. Rosmerta was reasonable, and if she was on his side, then it was pretty likely that his mom was the one who needed to lay off it, not him.
The door slammed behind him on the way out, and Jack took note of the fact that his breath puffed out in clouds before him as he walked, picking a random direction and going with it. He knew most of this town better then people who had lived in it their entire lives, simply because he walked so often.
He was broken from idle musings by a shout. "I said no!" someone- a female- cried, and he could not help but think it was familiar somehow. Quickening his pace, Jack rounded a corner to see a car pulled over by the side of the road. One guy was just standing there with a dazed look on his face, as if he didn't quite know what he was thinking, but he appeared to be maintaining a grip on some girl's arm. Who either of them were, he couldn't tell from so far away.
"What the hell's going on here?" Jack broke in, loud enough to be well-heard, and started in the direction of what appeared to be a confrontation.
Setting
0.00 INK
Setting
0.00 INK
But that didn't matter right now. Point was, she was clearly freaking out, and whoever that guy was, he was clearly the problem. Jack closed the distance between the three of them in a few strides, and tried to help Bailey steady herself from where she was clutching haphazardly at a fence.
"Hey, asshole," he addressed the dazed-looking guy. "I'd leave now, if i were you." His glare, frequently utilized to scare people off, turned at close to full-force on the person, warning him to back off. Hopefully, that would be enough, but Jack wasn't above punching people like this one, either. "You okay?" he asked Bailey, not turning to look at her just in case the guy made some kind of move for one or both of them.
- 36 posts here • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2