8 Chapter 8

Jean wandered around, with Scarlett wrestling with the school committee for the yearbook, she was alone keeping up with her studies at the study hall.

She invariably had issues with accepting herself and tests made her nervous, if she wasn't studying, she was sulking about the possibilities of getting poor grades. She always tried to keep up with Scott being so pragmatic, he made it look easy.

She dreaded taking a step towards her ambition, as she suggested at six years old of becoming a lawyer to her dad, it stuck to her until today.

It was going to take more than skimming books to know the dos and don'ts. She needed the conviction and she could use a Deux ex Machina to tell her how to achieve that without intentionally trying_at least in her head_ and some validation.

It was far worse compared to real life, she wasn't getting any closer.

She groaned when her enthusiasm to study further watered down as doubts clouded her mind, she even questioned getting into the school she picked.

Done with contemplating, she grabbed her books and backed out to get some air.

***

At the soccer × football × sprinting arena, she headed over to watch the marching band clutter up on the track like cats, it was way off.

They were chattering and a girl from the stairwell yelled and they hushed.

She sat up recognizing Ciara, the drum major (leader).

They were sporting white T-shirts and purple track pants and a variety of sneakers. A few wearing hats with plumes and two-color guards were swinging their flags.

She watched as they scrambled to their positions with their rank leaders upfront. She spectated and her heart fluttered at George with his shoulders hunched, Ciara with her drum mumbled something to him and he nodded holding up his drum sticks to play, the trumpets blared as they rehearsed.

***

George hardened when she came down the steps after practice, he sighted her from the distance knowing she would be looking for him.

He focused on getting the rhythm right-turning when Jean came.

"Hi, you didn't pick my calls"

"Am I entitled to?" He muttered and she gazed at him, alarmed at his cold behavior.

Ciara flared up at her "Hey, get outta here!"

The rest turned at the uproar and Jean stepped back scanning George's face, he nodded Ciara's way subscribing to her idea.

Drumming had taken the weight off his chest, he had something to work on and feel good about himself which he hardly felt.

Jean knew this was about Dylan, she had called several times to try to explain and from the way he acted, he already come to a close about it.

"George, tell her to leave, she might give away our form"

He tapped on his drumsticks while she discussed.

"Can we talk about this?" She asked with a concerned look.

"I'm afraid not" He scratched his head.

Her breath quickened gazing at him in dismay, George worked his jaw avoiding her stare

"What are you saying?"

***

Dylan helped lower the engine into the car and it swung, Albert glanced over to him in surprise.

"Hey, be careful with that"

"Sorry boss" He mumbled finally letting it drop in the bonnet before Albert got to installing it grunting as he stayed in a stooping position for a long time.

He hung his backpack straddling on the bike, Albert compensated more than usual, he was glad for the upgrade. He drove to the moors and walked to the docks where he found her sitting on the docks.

With her back hunched, he heard her sniffing and crying.

"Hey"

Jean turned to Dylan with her bloodshot raccoon eyes and faced forward working furiously to dab them off.

"Here..." He crouched with a hand on her back and Jean screamed overturning into the water with a warm splash, it had him on his hunches laughing hysterically at her.

"You think this is funny?!"

She climbed onto the docks water poured down her drenched clothes, she was sad but this stunt certainly made her forget her plight.

"A little bit...not really" His face tightened as he struggled to suppress his laughter.

To his annoyance, she sat back as if nothing happened and continued to sulk.

"I'm surprised you found your way to this joint after what happened"

Jean wanted to disappear but she was too scared to go home and let aunt Etta or her dad see her like this, she felt like if she said anything, she would be spilling like a big baby and she probably might not stop.

Despite the puddle beside her, Dylan sat down watching the sun from afar, it wasn't golden or beautiful, just harsh, the water didn't look good to swim in even from the tip of his boot, he knew it was warm.

It was unsavory and she picked the wrong day to be here.

He winced when she flipped forward and he caught her shoulders, she was weighing him down, she was already waist-deep in the water.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Drowning away my sorrows?"

It was a good thing she wasn't that heavy else he would be falling too.

"Don't cry over spilled milk"

"It's not milk, it's espresso with cream and a chocolate bar put together" Ok, she was being literal.

"Do you want that?" He inquired although it sounded unusual and sloppy to show how dreadful her situation was.

Jean fought back tears, her eyes moved over the water. "Forget it"

"You sound like you need that espresso, how about double?"

She giggled and sniffed wiping her eyes then she nodded "Okay"

"Great" He nodded getting up, Jean squeezed the end of her shirt.

"You shouldn't have pushed me though" She taunted and he passed her a grease-stained towel and she declined.

"No, you keep that"

***

The coffee shop was out of espresso but he opted for a cup of chocolate milk and black coffee with sugar.

"Chocolate milk for Dean? Dean?... Jesus Brooke, buy a notebook and learn your cursive writing" The counter guy said unfortunately with the microphone on, the customers snickered. "Jean?"

She looked up at Dylan "I didn't order chocolate milk?"

He gestured to the counter and she stood up in his jacket covering her badly crumpled shirt walking past the line to get the cup from Counter guy.

She forced a smile and took it returning to her seat, drinking up the steamy goodness,

"Black coffee with extra sugar for Jillian? Jillian...Brooke!" Counter guy looked back into the window "What the fuck dyou write? Oh, that was me...anyone order black coffee?"

Jean laughed when no one raised their hand

"Damn, close enough" He cursed retrieving his cup with Jillian scrawled on it.

"It's either the staff has poor handwriting or hearing problems." He pointed out letting the drink cool off for a bit.

"Or both" She snorted.

"Either way. Next time, I'm telling the staff to write Handsome on my cup"

Jean dropped her cup covering her mouth.

"Okay"

Dylan stirred his coffee, the sugar had settled. He glanced at her, presently, she laughs and then lowers her eyes then her smile disappears, he wondered at that.