history, I had never seen her look so desperate before.
I was afraid she’d catch me staring at her (which was silly because I doubted that Jane would notice anything but Jack), I turned my attention out the window. The city lights went past us in a blur, and I wondered how fast we were going. There was no sense of fear of getting hurt or even pulled over, though.
Ever since I had heard Jack’s voice, any real worry I had had completely dissolved. I felt completely at ease with him, and that fact should’ve been somewhat concerning, but I just couldn’t seem to muster any.
“This is a really nice car,” Jane said randomly, and her voice had fully regained that sickeningly sweet tone that made me want to vomit all over her pair of stilettos I had on my lap. Leaning even farther forward between the seats, she gingerly brushed her fingers along Jack’s bicep, and he responded by letting his arm fall lax, so it was further out of her reach. None of this made any sense to me. In all my many irritating years of being friends with Jane, I had never seen her fawning over anyone so badly, or being just as blatantly rebuffed.
“Is this Weezer?” I asked, mostly to fill up the awkward tension that was developing.
“Yeah,” Jack nodded.
“I like that song ‘Pork ‘n Beans,’” I commented. It seemed like a rather trivial thing to say, but at least it kept Jane from adding something in her overly flirtatious manner. As soon as I mentioned the song, Jack quickly flipped it to the track, and Jane opened her mouth to say something more, but he cut her off.
“I saw them when they were on tour with The Matches.”
“Really?” I ignored the annoyed glare Jane was giving me and continued on. “I really like them. How are they live?”
“Pretty good, I guess,” Jack shrugged, and then turned sharply into the parking lot outside an all night diner. The trip felt ridiculously short, and I realized that we had to have been going well over the speed limit to get there so quickly.
When we got out of the car, Jane scampered over to him, looping her arm through his. He didn’t look pleased by it, but he didn’t pull away either. Outside in the bright glow of the streetlights, I looked him over again, trying to understand what had possessed her so much. He had on pair of Dickies shorts, skater socks, and light blue Converse, along with the pink tee shirt. He more closely resembled cotton candy than he did a love interest for Jane.
“Oh crap,” I grumbled after I’d gotten out of the car, and looked down at my dirty, bare feet. There were small cuts and blisters and oil all over them, and I couldn’t imagine cramming my swollen feet back into Jane’s shoes.
“What?” Jack asked, and then followed my gaze down to my injured appendages. “Oh. Just don’t wear shoes.”
“I can’t not wear shoes.” I didn’t see much of another option, but I couldn’t go into a restaurant without shoes.
“You can wait in the car,” Jane offered up helpfully with a smug smile and leaned in closer to Jack. That must’ve been where he drew the line, because he pulled his arm free from her and took a step away. She looked a little defeated, but I knew she wouldn’t give up that easy.
“No, you’ll be fine,” Jack insisted confidently. “If they hassle you, I’ll take care of them.”
“What does that even mean?” I muttered, but he’d already convinced me.
After all, I’d seen the way he chased a gang of unruly guys, so I imagined that the graveyard shift at a Denny’s rip-off wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Just don’t worry about it.” Jack held the door open, but Jane seamlessly cut in front of me, smiling widely at him. He ignored her, but grinned boyishly at me when I walked in behind her.
As predicted, nobody noticed my lack of footwear. In fact, nobody even noticed me, or even Jane, which was incredibly odd. The waitresses practically tripped over themselves trying to seat us, all the while keeping their eyes completely focused on Jack. It felt like I had been dumped into some strange episode of the Twilight Zone. When the waitress put us in a booth, Jack sat down first, and naturally, Jane squished up next to him, so he kept moving over until he was plastered up against the window. I sat down across from them, and Jack rested his arms on the table, leaning towards me.
“What can I get you?” the waitress asked. The question was theoretically for all of us, but everything about her said it was meant for Jack only.
“Just coffee,” Jack answered, but then remembered that we were there too. “Or did you guys want something else?”
“Coffee’s fine,” I said. Truthfully, I was a little hungry, but I felt uncomfortable eating in front of him and Jane, and everyone else that was staring at us. All the patrons and staff couldn’t help but look in our direction, and I was starting to feel like I was missing out on some kind of joke.
“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” Jane pressed, once again running her fingers on his arm, but this time, he actually recoiled from her touch. She still didn’t get the hint, and I wanted to snap at her to leave him alone, but then I should probably snap at everyone else too.
“Nope,” Jack sighed, then muttered under his breath, “But I wish I was.”
“What?” the waitress asked, leaning in closer to hear his voice.
“Nothing.” Jack waved her off without looking at her. “Just the coffee.”
“Thanks,” I told the waitress when she lingered at our table. Finally, she pulled herself away, and I wanted a chance to look over Jack to see if I could figure out what all the fuss was about, but he was too busy looking at me. It wasn’t one of those longing gazes, not like the way Jane was looking at him, but he was looking, so I averted my gaze and pretended to be focused on the dark green place mat in front of me.
“Thanks again for saving us,” Jane murmured, trying to slide herself up next to him. “If there’s anything I can do to repay you, just let me know.” I could tell by the way he ran his fingers through his hair that he was getting irritated, and then I wondered how I knew that. We’d just met. How would I be an expert on his mannerisms? There was definitely something strange going on, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Are you famous or something?” I blurted out, and Jane looked embarrassed enough for both of us so I didn’t bother blushing.
“What do you mean?” He sounded confused, so I finally looked up at him.
He had sandy hair that stood up in a disarray that I’m sure he had planned. His skin was utterly flawless and beach bum tanned, and that was unnatural for people in Minnesota in March. His eyes were a weird blue-gray color, and there was something tremendously boyish about them, about him really, but otherwise, nothing seemed to stand out as overly attractive. I just didn’t get it.
“Everyone’s staring at us. At you,” I corrected myself. Jack just shrugged and looked down at the table, but didn’t bother checking to see if I was right.
Even Jane peered out behind her long eyelashes and reddened cheeks to confirm my statement, and I knew she saw it too because she blushed even deeper and put her hand possessively on Jack’s thigh.
“I’m not famous,” Jack replied quietly. He looked like he wanted to explain things more, but then the waitress appeared with three mugs and a pitcher of coffee.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” the waitress batted her eyes at Jack, who continued to ignore her.
“We’re fine, thanks,” Jane snapped. She had claimed him all for herself, and she had just noticed that everyone in the room was competition, so her claws were coming out.
“Just let me know if there’s anything at all.” The waitress reluctantly walked away, and Jane glared at her the entire time.
“Come on.” I rested my arms on the table and leaned in closer to him because I’d lowered my voice. “You had to have noticed that. You seem like a pretty observant guy.”
“I don’t have an answer for it.” He picked up the pitcher of coffee and poured a cup for himself and me, and then as an afterthought, filled Jane’s too.
“Do you take cream or sugar in yours?”
“Both.” I was perfectly capable of doing it myself, but I think Jack wanted to occupy himself somehow so I would be less likely to notice him hedging the question. He dumped a creamer and two packets of sugar in my coffee, and stirred a creamer in his, then settled back in the booth.
“I take cream and sugar too,” Jane added meekly, and Jack pushed the bowls of creamers and sugar packets toward her. Her face crumbled a bit, and she slowly added them to her coffee.
