Ducking and Covering (Ferris)

[Jesse Adams]

Study periods were usually spent in social settings. The library, the student lounge, the dorms. Anywhere groups of teenagers could get together and goof off, or form actual study groups. All perfectly normal high school student behavior.

Jesse still wasn't considering himself a 'normal' student. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

He had been doing better lately. Sessions with Dr. Neville still occurred like clockwork. Though he was opening up more, some subjects still made him squirm, while others remained taboo. Student life for him was simple. Go to class, go to sessions, and hole up in the dorms. Probation was still in effect, which left him little in the way of options for free time.

Like study periods.

Today he had chosen to take up residence in the corner of the cafeteria. It was far enough away from any doors to avoid the small trickle of students that appeared during the off peak hours, and infinately more quiet than the library. Though his books were out, he wasn't absorbing much. Truth be told, he was feeling a little lonely. Odd, to be surrounded by more people than had ever been in the compound, yet feel so... alone.

Christ, he was going soft. Or perhaps he was just maturing. Either way, he wasn't sure what to make of it, and thinking about it only threatened a headache. Maybe he needed some water, or something along those lines. Maybe he could also go a full day without biting anyone's head off, too. That could be good.

That in mind, he slunk from his corner in the back up to the counter. His honey blond hair was falling into his eyes, and he really didn't care. It gave him an odd sense of protection. "Hey, uh... Got any water bottles?" There. That was... kind of nice?

[Ferris Macklin]

The main lines of the kitchen were closed outside of mealtimes, but Ferris kept the small area that normally held the refrigerated coolers of milk and juice open with snacks he hoped were appealing enough that students gave them a shot instead of automatically going to the vending machines to get Cheetos. Cut up veggies submerged in cold water on ice, fruit, containers of yogurt, packs of whole-wheat crackers, pretzels, and graham crackers, cheese sticks, and of course gluten-free and dairy-free alternatives of all of it.

As much as it pained him, Ferris ran a nut-free kitchen, in that he didn't cook with them or make them a part of the menu, but if kids wanted, they knew they could ask for and receive a glob of natural peanut-butter for their toast or sandwiches or ask for snack packs of almonds kept behind the counters. It was kind of a pain, especially when he liked them so much himself, but nuts were the one allergy he wasn't going to mess with.

Lunch over and dinner prep completed, Ferris manned the snack counter himself, sitting behind it while reading. The spine of his rather beat-up, cloth-bound hardcover proclaimed it 'The Three Musketeers by A. Dumas' in worn script, but inside the hollowed out pages was a Nexus tablet that he was using to catch up on his Spider-Man. Ferris felt no guilt at all, since he had two copies of the real book at home, one of which was in the original French. (He couldn't read the French copy, but it was on his to do list). And this Miles Morales kid? Was excellent.

When not cooking or serving in earnest, Ferris didn't wear his white canvas chef's coat, so the black Atari logo on his t-shirt was visible. And he didn't have to hide his gum so hard, so every so often a small purple bubble appeared.

Two years of working in another meta school made him aware of movement, so when the kid approached he'd already put down his incriminating evidence and had tucked his gum into a cheek.

"Hey, uh... Got any water bottles?"

"Hey and... oh. Hold on." There were a pair of wheeled upright coolers near the snacks that held bottles of milk and juice and water (all recyclable, of course, rah rah environment) but at the moment Ferris couldn't see any of the water. Out of his chair and round the counter in one smooth movement, he was opening the glass-windowed coolers and digging. Skim milk... the skim chocolate that only came out during snacks... orange juice... grapefruit juice... apple juice... well... hm.

"Looks like you caught me," he admitted. "Didn't realize we were out. Hold on."

He was back in a few minutes with a crate of water. "It's a little warm, and I'm sorry about that, but if you can keep a secret and don't mind the temp I'll give you one on the house."

Ferris smiled and held out one as the other hand started adding bottles to the two coolers. Manny had probably forgotten to restock, but it was his own fault too for not checking before he sat down.

((ooc: I'm assuming snacks at the school cost money, but are probably a lot cheaper than the vending machines? Please correct me if I'm wrong.))

[Jesse Adams]

Had Jesse come across Ferris before his run in with M.S.A.D., he might have been more inclined to be a gigantic dick to him. Back then he had been quick to anger with or without provoking, something he had been reluctant to admit made him more like his father than made him comfortable. Just another thing he had to deal with, and he wanted to do it sooner rather than later.

That involved actually trying to be civilized. Even to the people behind the cafeteria counter.

The blond boy tried not to frown when the man answered him, and chose to keep his distance as he went to check out the coolers. Just because he was trying to be sort-of-nice didn't mean he was willing to trust him.

"O...kay?" Jesse leaned on the counter and fingered a small leather band around his wrist as he waited. A small part of him wanted to turn tail, gather up his stuff, and get the hell out of there before the older man came back, but he forced himself to stay. If nothing else, it could serve as a small victory to report in his sessions with the school shrink. He handled himself well in a social situation with an adult. Yeah. He could do this without getting nervous, or resorting to biting comments.

When the older man returned, Jesse was about to dig out his wallet when the proposal was offered. For a moment his green eyes clouded with doubt. This guy had no reason to be nice to him, yet here he was doing just that. "Uhh... okay." Gingerly he took the bottle, careful not to touch his hand. "Yeah, I can keep a secret." He shrugged. "It's not like being out of water is gonna kill anyone." Unlike some secrets he'd rather not discuss. "But... yeah. Thanks." He was still so out of touch with what could be called 'normal' social practices, he had no idea what to do now. Well, beyond running away, but he was trying.

"... What're you reading?" That was social, right?

[Ferris Macklin]

On a kid with that many studs, Ferris thought dyed-black hair was sort of required, but he didn't say anything. Besides, he could barely make out what the kid looked like behind those bangs. But he could read body posture and knew sullen, but the kid seemed like he was making some sort of effort, and who was Ferris to brush him off? Blondie accepted the water and Ferris mentally noted to add some change to the drawer to pay for it.

"It's not like being out of water is gonna kill anyone."

"No, but it's, y'know, one of those 'you only had one job' kinds of things. My job, as of this moment, is to keep the coolers and snacks stocked. So being completely out of water is sort of... fail-y." He wiggled one hand in a so-so motion. In less than two minutes the bottles of water were all neatly lined up between the juice and the milk, and as he went back behind the counter he broke down the cardboard carton the water had been in for recycling. Green, was Ferris. As much as he could be, anyway.

"You're welcome," he said to the thanks.

"...What're you reading?"

Ferris's lips pressed together and he considered the lie. It was right there in his head, but kids, for some reason especially meta kids, either believed what they were told harder or had extremely sensitive bullshit detectors. And this kid was definitely the latter. So the head chef sighed somewhat dramatically and picked up the book, flipped it to the tablet and showed. The screen was blank, but the gig was up.

"I'd love to tell you I was reading up on juvenile nutrition or researching a way to serve Spaghetti-Os for 800." He tapped the screen and it came back on, showing the pages of Ultimate Comics Spider-Man issue 10. "The Asian kid makes me want Legos."

Looking at the kid, his proportions told Ferris more about him than his height. He was one of the older ones, and he looked pretty close to graduating. Sort of. It was still hard to see the face through the thicket of hair. Stretching his arms over his head, he smiled. "I'm Ferris, by the way. You look like you've been around. I just started. Any advice for the new guy?"

[Jesse Adams]

Honestly, Jesse had done the dark hair thing. Of course, that had been under orders (stupid orders), and it hadn’t been black, thank you, but a dark brown he’d hated. Currently, his hair was as close to its’ natural color than it had been in years. It was shocking it was even still alive after he’d bleached it so many times. Now he just looked like a punk, rather than that sad, crappy emo look so many of his fellow students tried to pull off. Gross. Besides, his piercings made statements. Most of them being along the lines of teenage rebellion, but hey, who really cared, right?

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the little reference to those idiotic internet meme things, instead simply shrugging. “Whatever. It’s not like I’m telling.” He didn’t care enough to even think about it, and even if he did choose to tell someone about it, he doubted anyone else would care, either. No one was dying from dehydration or anything, they weren’t in freaking Africa.

The blond teenager had spent enough time with adults who knew the art of lying (not to mention his bastard father excelled at it), and he could tell that the older man was on the verge of it. It wasn’t just being meta that made Jesse’s lie detectors sharp, but rather growing up with a lawyer for a father, and living with a group of, well... gifted liars after he’d run away from Hammel. He also had a talent for lying himself, something he’d been trying to shed himself of lately. It was a hard habit to break, and stranger to think that he didn’t need to rely on lies anymore.

He gave him a look at the answer he got, but at least he wasn’t lying. In fact, the tablet in the book trick? Pretty great, as far as adults went. He’d have to try it. Maybe in college, if he ever made it that far. He was still trying to toe the line of good behavior here. “I have no idea what the hell Lego has to do with it, but the tablet trick isn’t half bad.” He didn’t really care much about the comic on the screen. Nor was Ferris in danger of him telling anyone that, either.

This wasn’t going terribly. He wasn’t being scowled at, or looked at with big, scared eyes. Or ignored, though he didn’t mind that one as much. As for the questions, he cocked his head slightly, letting his bangs slide out of his face. “Jesse. And you could say that.” Of course, his education at the hands of Hammel had been significantly shorter than his teachings outside of the school. “Not much advice I’m qualified to give.” Another shrug as he toyed with the cap of the water bottle. “I just started too. Kind of.” He scuffed the floor with his foot, dropping his gaze for a moment. “Just, uhh... avoid a goth kid that likes taking money for doing stupid things, and his sidekick. He tends to set stuff on fire.” He was also planning on avoiding the hell out of the two of them, but for different reasons. “What do you even do here? Besides fail at stocking?” He honestly wasn’t trying to be sarcastic. He was trying to be friendly, but it was usually hard to tell if it was working or not. Oh well. If it didn’t work, he could just erase Ferris’ memories of the encounter and leave. Because that was the solution to everything.

[Ferris Macklin]

“Whatever. It’s not like I’m telling.”

Ah, a bristly kid. Ferris smiled a little internally but he just gave the kid a nod. He had to be careful around the bristly ones. They had something to prove or something to hide (or both) and it made their dignities a lot more touchy, and sometimes, like with Blondie, it meant they sometimes couldn't go with the weak smartass jokes. But it gave Ferris a better idea of how to handle him. He could relate to the bristly ones. In another life, he'd've been one too.

The kid seemed to grudgingly admire the book disguise and Ferris grinned again.

“I have no idea what the hell Lego has to do with it, but the tablet trick isn’t half bad.”

"There's a kid in the comic totally into Legos," he explained. "I never had any when I was a kid." Flipping the book shut, he tapped the cloth cover. "It's really just a case, but when I made it I kept the first few chapters intact. The problem with using it as camo is that you're always seen with the same book that you apparently never finish, and if anyone sharp is watching, they notice you never turn the page."

Both were things that had been pointed out by the Kocher staff back when Ferris had had his old e-reader in the book. One of the old jokes had been to ask him if he'd finished that page yet, which he'd often replied to with a stuck out tongue, because Ferris was all class.

“Jesse. And you could say that.”

That was both enlightening and not, but Jesse didn't explain further and Ferris wasn't going to pry. Once the kid's hair was out of his face he wasn't bad looking, and Ferris added a year or two to his estimated age. Jesse didn't have the sprinkle of acne most kids who wore their hair like that had, but his ears reflected as much light as he thought they would.

“Not much advice I’m qualified to give. I just started too. Kind of. Just, uhh... avoid a goth kid that likes taking money for doing stupid things, and his sidekick. He tends to set stuff on fire.”

Ferris hadn't been at the school very long, but certain names tended to come up at certain times in the staff lounge in certain tones of voice. And when he was out during mealtimes cleaning up the inevitable spills and thrills, he saw which kids said what with their body language. Teenagers in particular said a great deal with how they sat or stood or walked, with or without meaning to. Like Blondie, who seemed like he needed to run around the school a few times to get rid of his jitters.

"I'll keep an eye out," he said, meaning it.

“What do you even do here? Besides fail at stocking?”

Laughing, Ferris took a swig out of his own water bottle, an aluminum one that had a duck sticker on it to go with his lunch bag. "I also fail to provide pizza and chicken nuggets and hamburgers on a regular enough basis to avoid some seriously dirty looks." He screwed the yellow cap back on his bottle. "I'm the new head of kitchen staff. And I have worked at a meta school before. I did a few years at Kocher. The European Hammel. But I'm from here, so when the opening came I took it."

Digging in his jeans pocket, he found the change for Jesse's water and rang it up. "So what do you do here?"

His smile said he knew yes, student. But past that.

[Jesse Adams]

Bristly was definitely one word to describe the blond teenager. He was like that will just about everyone. Rare exceptions were possible, and becoming alarmingly frequent for his liking. Adult men, however? He was generally very careful around them, even now. No, he knew not everyone was out to get him, or something equally bad, but he still watched his step and tried to keep them at a distance. Ferris didn’t seem all that threatening now, but he wasn’t going to take chances.

“... Oh.” Wanting Legos as an adult was decidedly weird, but to each their own, he supposed. After all, he’d been into gunplay and German and all kinds of activities that probably hadn’t been great for his teenage development. He was going to ignore that, then. “So why don’t you just wreck more books?” It seemed logical to him. Then again, Jesse had learned a thing or two about stealth over the past few years. If you were going to do something like this, why not go all the way? “No one around here’s sharp enough to actually notice. You’re probably safe.” Unless Dr. Neville or Dr. Campbell was watching, but they were just weird.

Without his little protective shield between him and Ferris, Jesse was the smallest bit more nervous. He didn’t like being studied. As a coping mechanism, he sank his teeth into his bottom lip and let them click against his lip ring. He had no idea why it was a comforting feeling, but it was.

At least he had been honest in his warnings. Avoiding Vincent Verarx and Sam Rixon were vital for any normal staff member, or student that was unwilling to get tangled up in their antics. He had his own reasons for avoiding them, and it had nothing to do with their antics. While he was fairly sure that Verax had gotten his fill of revenge months ago, who knew if he’d actually remember it? The guy had the memory of a goldfish. And Rixon was just... unpredictable. If Ferris wanted to remain any kind of sane, he’d avoid the hell out of those two.

“Good. They both have a few screws loose.” Sure, he did too, but at least he could work at looking normal on the surface. Sort of.

Jesse blinked when Ferris started laughing. Keeping himself in place instead of bolting like a scared rabbit took a surprising amount of effort. Truthfully, had he stayed at Hammel instead of running away, he probably would have been among those that give him dirty looks. He still loved pizza, but Gabriel had also opened him up to a whole new world of tastes. The absence of crappy, grease filled food at Hammel wouldn’t bother him much. “Oh,” he said again. “That’s stupid, but that’s America for you.” The reputation they were earning from the rest of the world really wasn’t that far off from reality.

He hadn’t expected to be asked questions himself, so when Ferris posed the question he just looked at him. His mind went blank for a moment. What did he do here? “Go to class... like a good student.” The look in his eyes said otherwise. ... Screw it. Telling that truth was something he’d just have to suck up and get used to. “Not just class. Therapy sessions, too. I fell in with a bad crowd.” That was putting it lightly, and his discomfort was evident in his squirming. “I’m probably one of the students everyone else warns staff members about.” His tone was almost resigned over that. Like he didn’t actually like that fact. And he really didn’t. At one time he would have gotten a perverse delight from it. Now? It made him feel a little dirty.

[Ferris Macklin]

Ferris didn't care the kid was judging him for wanting Lego. It was one of those things kids didn't understand till they were adults and could suddenly afford all the stuff they couldn't have when they were little. Ferris's time had been so taken up with studying and school that he hadn't actually had much more than books. He hadn't wanted to burden his mom on gift-giving holidays, so he'd mostly asked for clothes and practical stuff. Sure, he'd had a video game console, a skateboard, and a few action figures, but his childhood had been about feeding his brain, and it hadn't been unhappy due to a lack of belongings.

“So why don’t you just wreck more books?”

"You just answered your own question." Ferris grinned. "Making these-" he knocked on the book cover "-isn't easy. And I'm not exactly one for arts and crafts. But it did mean I got to buy a dremel attachment." He shrugged. "And I'd rather read a book than wreck it."

Just to show off, he took the tablet out and flipped another section of pages that weren't glued together to show Jesse the second compartment that held the tablet's charge cord. That compartment's pages were glued to the back of the book. He flipped the pages back and settled the tablet back in and flipped the rest shut. "But this one was in the dollar bin. And it was the right size. I guess if I really cared I'd make fake paper covers."

“No one around here’s sharp enough to actually notice. You’re probably safe.”

"You'd be surprised. And I'm not just talking about other teachers."

Speaking of kids, “Good. They both have a few screws loose.”

Ferris snorted. He took what Jesse said seriously, but didn't all kids have a few screws loose? It was one of the best things about being a kid. Something no kid could really avoid, either. It was just part of growing up. "Haven't heard the fire alarm go off yet. Here's hoping the sidekick's pinned down."

It was one of the drawbacks of having a school like this. Kids were without the immediacy of parents. For some, that was a good, even a great thing. For most, it meant a sudden freedom a lot of them didn't really know what to do with, that often meant that dorm staff sometimes saw behavior they normally wouldn't. Ferris didn't know if going home after school would be any help to Goth Kid or Sidekick, but the lack of authority figures was one of the things that made him practice the whole Constant Vigilance thing during meals.

“Oh. That’s stupid, but that’s America for you.”

"I guess. I feel a little bad. I do like chips and soda and all that myself, so I'm something of a hypocrite. But what's school if you can't complain about the food?"

“Go to class... like a good student.”

The lie was so obvious Jesse didn't even bother hiding it. Ferris resisted the urge to click the heels of his Cons together. The kid probably wouldn't get it anyway. But what came next surprised him.

“Not just class. Therapy sessions, too. I fell in with a bad crowd. I’m probably one of the students everyone else warns staff members about.”

It was a bald admission, but it was still a delicate one. One a kid like this wouldn't just make, Ferris didn't think. It made him admire Jesse a great deal. Ferris could do with some therapy himself. (Some? Ahahahaha.) Blondie probably didn't have much choice, if he was a former Bad Boy, but he was doing it, he was admitting it, and he was talking to the guy behind the snack counter and not being an asshole at all.

"I wasn't warned about any kid in particular," Ferris said honestly. Though all of a sudden something in his head clicked and he was all 'oh, so he's THAT Jesse'. He didn't show it. "And you... well, forgive me, but I haven't felt any need to call for help or protect my face while we've spoken."

It was probably a blow to the kid's tough cred. Most kids with Jesse's look didn't enjoy being told they were civil or reasonable or polite or fairly harmless. But in this case it was also the truth. Whatever Blondie had been (and from the tone he'd remembered the name being spoken, if this kid was indeed Jesse Adams, it had been something on par with Magneto) he certainly wasn't it right now. And that took guts. Guts and determination, and Ferris wondered if anyone just told the kid he was being amazing for even trying.

"I'm glad I met you then," he said, the side of his mouth quirking in a smile. "So you could make the impression you wanted." Then he gave in and smiled. "Does your grade still take gym? 'Cause you look like you could run a few miles."

[Jesse Adams]

It was actually quite difficult to picture life as a child without things you wanted. For Jesse, his childhood before Hammel hadn’t wanted for anything. His home had been nothing short of pretentious, with his father happy to invest money into anything that looked like it could raise his status. His children had been presented with the latest in technology, usually by way of gaming systems or advanced toys. Jesse hadn’t known what it was to grown up without being surrounded by ridiculous things he might not have ever needed, but he’d certainly wanted. Now he thought about it, his father had probably thought that by throwing expensive things at his kids, he wouldn’t have to do things like spend time with them. It was no small wonder that Jesse felt zero connection with the man. The only real attention he’d been paid had been negative attention, unless he had been showing off his offspring to colleagues. Oddly enough, even with all that, Jesse knew damn well he’d been treated at least a little better than his older brother. When Keith had done stupid things and made black marks on his ‘happy’ family, their father had just started pushing Jesse to excel at school, at track meets, anything he could.

Hammel had honestly been a Godsend.

“Nothing good is easy,” the blond grumbled, mostly to be difficult. Slipping too far into this ‘I’m a good guy now’ thing wasn’t something he was ready for. Of course, he realized too late that he was right. Coming back and trying to behave wasn’t easy either, even if it was supposed to be a good thing. Still, when Ferris flipped the thing around to show off the cord, the teenager just looked at it passively. It wasn’t that exciting. “Enjoy getting busted, then. If anyone actually looks.” Not that anyone would care all that much about what anyone behind the counter was doing. He didn’t. (Granted, he tried to make it look like he didn’t care about anything.)

At the mention of the fire alarm, Jesse’s gaze flicked to the red bell on the wall. It was true, it hadn’t. “Either that or he’s off smoking weed.” Jesse might have been a smoker, but he had no love for the mind altering substance he knew the pyro had been into. At least, he had been, a few years ago. Who knew? People changed. Not that he wanted to come close enough to the pyro to find out. It would probably end as well as his encounter with the goth boy had, and he wasn’t looking forward to a repeat, no matter how much he might deserve it.

It was hard to say if being able to go home every day would have helped Jesse or not. He couldn’t be paid enough to live under the same roof as his father again, and he probably would have been more inclined to rebel. Sometimes, when he really thought about it, he wondered if that had been his main motivation behind running away from Hammel and working under his mentor and his group. He supposed it could be true, but there had been more to it. Namely, that Gabriel had treated him like an equal most of the time, and he’d trusted him. Going home every night... he very well could have ended up like his older brother instead.

Or scrambled his father’s memories beyond repair in an effort to escape him. It was a toss up.

Jesse rolled his eyes at the comment about the food. “Anyone that complains should just get the Mom speech about how there are starving kids in Africa, or something.” Mostly to get them to shut up. Jesse couldn’t stand whining, and he had no idea how adults dealt with it.

After he’d admitted to therapy sessions, Jesse shot Ferris a look that seemed to dare him to say anything about it. He wasn’t fond of people knowing, but considering it was such a big part of why he’d come back in the first place... it seemed important, somehow. Dr. Neville and Fiona kept telling him that it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, and he wasn’t. Not really. More irritated that it was needed in the first place. Unlike his trainer, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Coming back, dealing with everything that went along with running away, playing happy family with a meta-supremacy group, and coming back again. He didn’t see the courage or whatever label anyone wanted to stick on it. He saw it as coming back with his tail between his legs.

It was his turn to snort now. “Right. No one warned you about Verax, sure.” He knew the Goth kid had a solid reputation among the staff, and he would have thought a warning would come along with any new employee’s paperwork. Him, too. Maybe everyone had more faith in him than he thought he deserved. That wasn’t a good thought. “Maybe you haven’t done anything to deserve it, then.” He tried hard to look like he was capable of something bad, but even that was starting to wane. The wind was just gone from his sails in that sense. Maybe therapy was helping.

Jesse did scowl a little at the smile Ferris offered. He didn’t know what kind of impression he wanted to make anymore. He’d become so used to being guarded and antagonistic. In trying to come back now, he knew what was expected to allow him to stay. It just felt odd... like acting. While that was something he’d been taught how to do quite well, doing it full time was hard. He felt fake, all the time. Maybe it would pass with time, he didn’t know.

He did look a touch surprised at what Ferris said next, however. He hadn’t run for a long time, and he missed it. His conditioning had probably got to hell, though part of that would have had to do with being shot in the Hammel vs. M.S.A.D. scuffle. He’d tried joining the track team when he’d been forced into a human high school, but it hadn’t lasted long before he’d run away from that, too. “I ran track,” he admitted. “And cross country stuff. Before I came to Hammel, and... before I left.” Admitting to running at a human school was just begging for more questions, so he left it out. “Haven’t done it for a long time.” Unconsciously, the hand holding the water bottle dropped down against his abdomen. “Why’d you even ask that?” It wasn’t something he thought was obvious. Apparently, people were more observant that he wanted to give credit for. Or at least Ferris was. Weird.

[Ferris Macklin]

“Nothing good is easy.”

Ferris almost said something about how that was his line, remembered the kid didn't take kindly to crappy jokes, and just nodded.

“Either that or he’s off smoking weed.”

He sighed, but chuckled a little too. "Charming."

Ferris had never so much as been around secondhand smoke till he left for Europe, though from his grandparents' accounts his own mother had done pretty much every drug to be had till she'd met 'That Man', who was presumably his father. Ferris had the feeling that while his grandparents hadn't approved of the relationship (which they admitted they knew very little about), they were also quite grateful to That Man for getting their daughter off the path that typically terminated in rock-star-like death.

In Europe, he'd had his first cigarette and gotten drunk for the first time and hadn't seen the appeal of either. He wondered for a moment how actual drug use was dealt with, but left it because it wasn't his jurisdiction.

“Anyone that complains should just get the Mom speech about how there are starving kids in Africa, or something.”

"I've always been of a mind that any kid who doesn't want to eat the food served can just go without, but apparently that sort of thing is frowned on. Drastic, or something."

“Right. No one warned you about Verax, sure.”

"Nope." Ferris smiled, he couldn't help it. He didn't know if it was because he wasn't a teacher or if it was considered prejudicing to give out names now or something, but he hadn't been warned. Just told to keep his eye out. And shown where the seven fire extinguishers in the cafeteria were kept. But just in case, he filed the name 'Verax' away for later. It sounded... familiar.

“Maybe you haven’t done anything to deserve it, then.”

"Isn't existing enough?" It was said mildly, because it was fact. For bad boys, even ex-bad boys, the mere presence of others, adults especially, just ruined their whole lives.

Ferris did a sort of mental double-take when Jesse mentioned he did track. The kid hadn't struck him as athletic, didn't seem like he'd be the sort for the kind of discipline a track coach would demand.

“Why’d you even ask that?”

"You looked restless. Like you got energy to burn. Sometimes a little activity can help your brain concentrate." He shrugged. "'S why I bike to work."

Well, and because he didn't have a driver's license or a car, but there were busses too and he didn't take those.

"Now'd be a good time to get back into track," he said. "You probably wouldn't even have to join, but I bet they'd let you run with them." Then he grinned, but was serious. "Or you could help out in the kitchens. We take volunteers."

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse had a bit of a distaste for most drugs. Most of that had to do with his older brother’s decision to use them to escape. He knew the desire to escape life at times, but there were better ways to do it. Of course, he’d learned all about alcohol, especially in recent years, and had tried to keep a steady supply of cigarettes on hand. They were one of the few things that calmed his nerves now. Funny, it had started as teenage rebellion, and now it was more of a coping mechanism.

At least he and Ferris were on the same page regarding whining and eating. “Doesn’t work here. They’ll just go pig out at the vending machines, or go downtown.” How nice it would be to have that freedom back again. Jesse knew damn well that his probation was for his own good, but that didn’t stop him from sulking about it every so often, and wishing for that freedom back. Maybe he’d appreciate it more this time around, and not abuse it.

It still struck him as strange that older employees didn’t warn newer ones about certain students. Of course, he would probably be roped into that warning now. The thought made him want to go and dry heave. Sure, he’d been bad, but to be roped into the same warning as Vincent Verax and Sam Rixon? Ugh. They weren’t even close. “Yeah, well, I warned you now.” Maybe that would count for something later, especially if Verax was doing something particularly offensive. Like running around without his pants. Again.

The blond gave Ferris a dirty look at the existing comment. At one point, yes, it would have been the perfect reason to mouth off to him. Now... it seemed like a really petty reason to be a dick to someone. “Not right now it isn’t.” And then he did something unexpected. For some reason it had struck him as funny, and he was actually smirking. It was only a small, half smirk, but it was there. Alert the media, Jesse Adams just almost smiled at something.

Being unsocial since coming back to Hammel, had hindered his perception of things and people. He hadn’t really understood what Ferris was saying until it was too late and he’d officially made an ass of himself. “Oh,” he said simply, looking irritated. “I don’t have concentration issues.” If he was antsy, it was because he was like a caged dog. Wanting to be outside and running, and instead being confined. Not that he could blame anyone for that but himself. If he hadn’t wanted it, he would have continued to run, and wouldn’t have returned to Hammel.

“I might,” he admitted. If the track coach would even want him. If he even had that kind of talent anymore. He hadn’t run like that for a long time. The kitchen suggestion, however, was met with another dirty look. “Why would I want to do that? The kitchen’s for pansies.” He’d helped out in the compound kitchen a bit here and there, mostly with the twins because he’d liked them. And his mentor had taught him a few things. But in a place like Hammel? No way was he going to do that. Nor was he going to tell Dr. Neville about the offer, because he was sure the shrink would encourage it.

[Ferris Macklin]

“Doesn’t work here. They’ll just go pig out at the vending machines, or go downtown.”

Ferris shrugged. "At least that costs them money they can't use on other things."

Vending machine markups were getting really ridiculous, too. He'd seen ones that charged 2.50 for a 20 oz. Coke or two bucks for a candy bar. He didn't like that the cafeteria was an area of last resort for some of the kids, but... the whole decision-making process was being developed and all. It was just too bad that eating Doritos as a meal for a week didn't have immediate consequences.

“Yeah, well, I warned you now.”

"And I appreciate it."

And there it was, authentic Dirty Look #1. Ferris had to keep himself from laughing. Jesse even seemed to change his mind and kind of smiled too, meaning he either saw the weak joke/absurdity or was picturing Ferris as a giant walking private part.

“I don’t have concentration issues.”

There was really no good answer for that one, so Ferris just nodded like he agreed. From what he'd seen in college, sports during schooling was a double-edged blade. To be good at it, time had to be dedicated, but that time took away from education, which was (hopefully) what people were at college for in the first place. In high school it was probably worse. Even during the times Ferris had taken dance classes three times a week had been a little much.

Aaaaaaaand Dirty Look #2.

“Why would I want to do that? The kitchen’s for pansies.”

He couldn't help it. Ferris laughed. "Aaaah," he sighed, still grinning. "Thanks. I was wondering if I was a loser or a dork but knowing I'm actually a pansy really clears up the mystery."

There was activity, kids walking. "Might be passing time," he said. Checking the clock, the last class was just ending. "And that's my cue. It was nice talking to you, Jesse. I hope you get to do some track."

It was time to go knead bread for half a year. Or two hours. They were kind of the same.

[Jesse Adams]

... Okay, Ferris had a point there. Dammit. Adults weren’t supposed to make points like that, even if it was kind of their job to look out for the teenagers. Max had put a halt to his irresponsible spending more than once, even if it was on fun stuff, like Xbox games. Or cigarettes. He never had figured out which one had bothered the former doctor more. “Yeah, whatever.” His apparent tolerance for playing nice was starting to wear a little thin.

In a way he really did want to get back into things like track. For one, it would finally bring his conditioning back up to where it had been before he’d been shot. For another, it would provide an invaluable distraction from everything he was trying to put behind him. Back at the compound he’d managed to nicely balance academic studies with extracurriculars like target practice and hitting the gym, not to mention power training. He was confident that he could do it again. If nothing else, he’d glide by on his academics in order to maintain things like running.

The laugh effectively snapped him out of his thoughts, and he was all too happy to provide Dirty Look #3 for the cook. “All of the above would probably be a good answer too,” he all but grumbled, his cheeks the lightest shade of pink possible. He didn’t like being laughed at, and Ferris was officially creeping him out now. At his final comments, he just rolled his eyes, resisted the urge to flip him the bird, and stalked off back to his corner to pack up his things. If he was going to beat probation anytime soon, he’d better just get to class.