I Didn't Ask for Your Help [Jeff]

[Cleo Warren]

Cleo had wandered down to the mail office after receiving an email that her package from Amazon had been delivered. It contained books - of course - because Cleo hated borrowing them from the library. She would, but she liked to keep them permanently and add them to her collection. Plus, the idea that an unlimited number of people were touching these books before her was pretty disconcerting to Cleo. They could have just picked their nose and then turned the page, or…you know… Gross.

However, when she’d actually gotten to the post office, she found that she had not only one, but three packages to be picked up. She knew she was getting a care package from Cass and her parents, but she didn’t think it would get here this quickly. The third package was a mystery, but when Cleo checked the return address it belonged to her aunt. Weird. She didn’t tell Cleo that she was sending her anything… Oh well! Cleo never turned down free stuff.

But now carrying them back seemed like it was going to be quite a predicament. None of them were particularly heavy on their own, but her parents’ package was a little large and awkward to carry. She precariously stacked them on top of each other, and tried to get a grip on them as best she could.

Ugh…this was going to be a long walk back.

The man at the post office was nice enough to open the door for her as she left, and the walk back wasn’t that bad. The top package fell on the ground twice. Hopefully her aunt didn’t send her anything breakable…

But now as she neared the dorms, a new problem came into view. The door was shut, and it was unfortunately not a push door. Cleo groaned audibly, swearing internally as she unsuccessfully struggled to shift the boxes in her arms to her left so she could open the door with her right.

[Jeff McIntosh]

Spring had begun, which meant Spring soccer season! Finally! Winter was the absolute worst of the seasons, because there were no sports. Or, to be more precise, there were no sports that Jeff was interested in. He had zero desire to try out for basketball, and besides, he was hardly tall enough to be a desirable player. 

He was headed back from the first practice of the season, hair damp from the locker room showers, when he noticed her. 

A girl in need of help. 

Of course a girl would need help opening the door, they always did. He didn't understand what it was about doors that were so difficult. Sure, she had her hands full, but she could have balanced her packages in one hand or....or something. But girls were fragile, which apparently included an inability to open doors without help. 

"I'll get that for you," He told her, not waiting for an answer before he tugged it open for her. In his mind he thought that he sounded very gracious and polite; in reality his condescension was clear on his face and in his tone. 

[Cleo Warren]

Almost…got it…

Her packages were teetering dangerously, but Cleo had almost gotten them perfectly balanced. She almost had it...but then it turned out that she didn’t even need to. Someone else had stepped in and opened it up for her. She looked up, ready to thank whoever it was that was kind enough to open the door, but stopped herself. It was a boy, around her age. She recognized him as one of the jocks.

He looked annoyed and put out by his deed. And he certainly didn’t look happy to be getting the door for her.

“Umm…thanks…” She said, wondering if she had imagined his condescending tone of voice or if he really was that annoyed to open a door for someone. Sure, she was in the way, but it didn’t really look like he was in a rush or anything.

She used her knee to help re-balance her package, standing on one foot for a moment as she adjusted herself. She stepped past him, through the threshold and knocked the top package on the door jam, swearing as it toppled to the floor.

“Shit…” She muttered under her breath, as she knelt back down pick it up again. Cleo really really hoped there was nothing fragile in that one, otherwise it was definitely broken at this point.

[Jeff McIntosh]

Did she really just drop her package? How did she expect to open the door and carry those when she couldn't even carry them when she had both hands free? 

"I can carry those for you."

His parents had told him from a young age that one should help women carry items if they needed the help. Unfortunately, they hadn't quite managed to include the polite manners that were supposed to go along with that sort of offer. Nick had picked up on that without explicit instructions, but Jeff  had utterly failed in this regard. 

It wasn't that his parents hadn't tried to explain basic manners, but the lessons hadn't really stuck. 

"It looks like you have your hands full for a girl."

[Cleo Warren]

Cleo didn’t expect this jock to help her. She grew up in New York City, where people were more likely to step on your packages than help you pick them up. Politeness and chivalry really didn’t exist in the city. Most people were only focused on themselves and getting to their destination as quickly as possible. Cleo didn’t judge; she was guilty of a very similar mindset.

So really, she would have been fine if this boy just brushed by her, having already done his good deed of the day. But then he offered, and if he offered nicely Cleo probably would have accepted his help. Her arms were starting to ache, so she would have been thankful for his help, if he hadn’t said it like a douche.

It looks like you have your hands full for a girl.

Did he actually just say that out loud? “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She set her boxes down, and snatched the smallest one off the floor and stacking it on top. Just because she wasn’t a brutish jock didn’t mean she couldn’t carry some fucking boxes. She’d carried them all the way across campus already, hadn’t she?

She was accustomed to rude people; they didn’t really phase her at this point. But there was something about the way this boy was talking to her…like she was incompetent or something that really rubbed her the wrong way. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

[Jeff McIntosh]

Jeff rolled his eyes at her question in a manner that would have probably caused his mother to slap him had she been present to see it. This was not how one performed chivalry. 

"It means I should carry your boxes so you don't have to," He answered, and then he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You're not one of those feminists are you? Men and women are different, it's not like that's a bad thing." 

Except that he absolutely treated this "fact" as if it made women inferior. He would try to placate feminists and other people of their ilk, though, when they forced him to defend his gender essentialist positions. 

[Cleo Warren]

So he was one of those guys. And here she thought society had moved on from those 1950’s gender views. Apparently not. She really shouldn’t have been surprised; there’s always at least one in every crowd who don’t understand societal progression. Though, she was hoping those people were dying out in this far up north. Then again, not everyone who went here was from the Northern US.

Cleo scoffed, rolling her eyes at his prehistoric logic. This was the 21st century, wasn’t it? “Right, and I’m sure you think a woman’s place is in the kitchen and it’s a man’s job to go to work and make money.”

That type of mentality was so different than the one she was raised with. Both her parents worked the same job, and her dad was the one who always cooked for them. Her mom burnt almost everything she tried to make.

But honestly, Cleo kind of just assumed most people nowadays were feminists. At least the people who were decent and logical human beings. She wasn’t one of those raging women who didn’t even want to breath the same air as men, but she did believe in equality. Biologically they were different, sure. This prick probably could carry her packages more easily, but that didn’t mean Cleo expected him to. And it certainly didn’t mean that she wasn’t physically capable of it.

[Jeff McIntosh]

Jeff stared at Cleo with clear confusion. Was she....was she mocking traditional gender roles? Then she must be a feminist, which was unfortunate. Didn't feminism make women unhappy? His mother seemed perfectly content to stay at home with her children, even if she did take to blogging about it all the time. 

Blogging about your kids seemed like a fairly Mom thing to do, though; at least, she'd found other women who did the same thing. Sure, she pulled in a little money from ads, but that wasn't the same thing as breadwinning. 

Anyway, the model his parents used worked for them, which meant that obviously it would work for everyone else, too, because his parents were (in his mind) the epitome of Normal People. Which meant anyone who did things differently from his family was automatically Strange.

"Ummm...yeah?" He responded, not sure what else he was supposed to say about that. "Women are just good at cooking." 

Through some sort of biological magic he didn't understand, and despite what Dr. Neville had to say about the subject, women were just inherently able to cook. 

[Cleo Warren]

Oh boy. He was definitely one of those types of guys; he didn’t even seem to realize that he’d said anything offensive. She’d dealt with more than a few misogynistic guys before, but Jeff seemed genuinely confused by her reaction.

Women were just good at cooking? She had to actively suppress the urge to roll her eyes again. “My dad’s the one who cooks in our family.” She said bluntly. No one trusted her mother to make anything other than cereal. Frankly, her dad was the only one in her immediate family who could cook, since neither Cleo nor Cass was incredibly talented or inclined.

Cleo shook her head, “You know this is the 21st century, right? Those stupid traditional roles aren’t really relevant anymore.” Not when women were out earning the big bucks, and men now had the opportunity to stay at home and raise their families. Sure, there were families who preferred things the traditional ways, but that didn’t mean that every family had to. Which meant that she didn’t have to learn how to cook if she didn’t want to. And it also meant that Jeff only had to help her carry her boxes if he wanted to, not because he felt that he had to.

[Jeff McIntosh]

Jeff tried unsuccessfully not to widen his eyes at her revelation. Did that mean her dad was gay, like Dr. Neville? Although the therapist insisted he had known to cook before marrying another man, Jeff didn't quite believe that. Then again, Ms. Reynold's claimed her brothers knew how to cook, too. 

What sort of madness was this, where men forced themselves to learn something they weren't naturally good at? 

His ideas of how the world was supposed to work didn't hold up to a second of scrutiny, which was why he generally tried to avoid thinking too hard about them.

"Not relevant to who? They're just about what people are good at, that's always relevant," He argued. "Look, I'm sorry for trying to help you. I was trying to be nice!" 

That was how people were supposed to be nice to girls (who did not count under people), right? By holding the door for them and  carrying things. 

[Cleo Warren]

He clearly seemed shocked by the news that her father ran the kitchen at home, maybe even a little confused. Cleo was sure that her own look probably matched his, but maybe a bit more annoyed. Except while he was shocked that she was questioning old-school gender roles, she was shocked that there were still people who believed them. Perhaps society wasn’t progressing as quickly as she thought.

“They’re not relevant to anyone.” She stated, her tone mildly condescending. “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean that I’m good at cooking. You know that’s not how biology works, right?” Really all Cleo could probably make was maybe pasta with the sauce that came in the jar. It was mostly because she just wasn’t that interested, but she supposed she’d get better once she actually had to start cooking for herself. Even though she wasn’t too interested in learning to cook, she was definitely not interested in starving.

Cleo rolled her eyes, letting out a sharp sigh and standing up. “If you’re trying to help me, you should try not acting like a douche.” Despite his claims of trying to be nice, it could not be more clear that this was the last thing he wanted to do. “I’m not stupid, you know. Or blind. It’s pretty clear that you don’t want to help me.”

And if this was how he was going to act about it, Cleo really didn’t want his help either.

[Jeff McIntosh]

Jeff thought he was doing a perfectly fine job of doing what he was supposed to be doing, thank you very much, and so he grimaced in offense at Cleo's snark. 

"Fine! Nobody's gonna wanna help you if you keep acting like some feminazi, anyway." 

Of course, his definition of feminazi was not ragingly reactionary. She didn't immediately acknowledge what a huge favor he was doing for her, which meant she was being irrational and ungrateful. 

Typical. 

"You can carry your own boxes, then." 

He did not, however, put them down, because he was pretty sure she would regret running off his amazingly chivalrous help. 

[Cleo Warren]

Cleo scoffed in disbelief. A feminazi? She’d been called a lot of things, but that was definitely a new one. “Seriously? Because I’m calling you out on how rude you’re acting? Nobody’s going to want your help if you’re going to act like a fucking prick.”

Cleo just didn’t understand some people. Personally, she didn’t think she was one of those raging feminists you always heard about on the news. Her lack of tact and sharp vocabulary did tend to shock some people, but it wasn’t like she was screaming or freaking out. She really wasn’t even raising her voice, though Jeff was quickly burning through her short amount of patience.

Thankfully he was going to give her packages back to her and she could be on her way. Sure, help would have been appreciated, but Cleo didn’t want to feed into Jeff’s already huge ego. She’d honestly rather just struggle up the stairs on her own than listen to anymore of his prehistoric opinions. At least, that was what she thought was going to happen, but he wasn’t handing them over.

“Well are you going to give those to me then?” She motioned to the packages, raising her eyebrows in expectancy. She didn’t have all day.

[Jeff McIntosh]

"I'm not being a prick! I'm trying to help you!" 

Not that feminists seemed to know the difference. Ugh. Why did he bother? Oh, right, because his parents told him it was important and necessary to help women. 

Her impatience caused him to roll his eyes, but he shoved the boxes in her direction regardless. "Fine! But don't complain when it's too hard for you!" 

He was confident that she would regret this decision, but that was her own fault for rejecting help. 

[Cleo Warren]

Cleo rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair in frustration. Clearly, they weren’t really getting anywhere since he kept insisting that his behavior was perfectly appropriate and that she was the one who was acting like a bitch. In reality, she was, and she knew that, but it was only a reaction to his attitude. Cleo wasn’t the type of person to let someone else walk all over her or put her down. Especially for something as stupid as being a girl.

“If you’re trying to help me then why are you acting like this?” She asked, letting out an exasperated huff, but she was about to let it go. Really, she didn’t have all damn to stand around and debate Jeff’s chivalry. She just didn’t care enough to argue about it for the next hour. Cleo had better things she could be doing.

Like taking her packages upstairs to her room, where she could open them up and drown all her frustrations in the chocolate that her parents had hopefully sent her. And thankfully he’d actually committed to giving them back to her now. By literally shoving them back in her hands. Not really even her hands, just at her…which caused both the middle and top packages to topple to the ground because of the sharp momentum. Luckily, she’d managed to get a grip on the bigger one.

The precog rolled her eyes, letting out a sharp sigh as she knelt to the ground to pick them up. “Right, you’ve been so much help.” If he hadn’t intervened she probably would have been upstairs already, eating whatever snacks were packed away in one of those boxes.