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om_mainNathan helps Jeanne-Marie make contact with his roommate again--in his particularly Nathan way.
Feeling somewhat fortified from her successful dance with Brian, who had far more reason to dislike her than some, even, Jeanne-Marie finally made the decision to approach Nathan.
It was silly, of course. She knew she should approach Simon and simply speak to him. Apologize. Explain. But he was so hard to get hold of if he didn't want to be held, was the thing. And though she'd caught the glances from Nathan here and there--enough to know he was not pleased with her--she was glad for them. One thing she knew of him for sure: his friends were important to him. He would try to help them if he could.
She was not his friend, not after what she'd done, but Simon was. Maybe he could at least give her some advice? She approached, trying not to let the macabre makeup change her mind, but genuinely admiring his suit--and the orange in the tie and shoes! "Hello, Nathan. You look--very good."
He'd almost not recognized her at first (it was a mask party). Nathan had sat his bony arse on the rim of a large concrete planter with a topiary faun in, cut special for the occasion, it seemed. The skeleton-faced boy had stopped to sit when the muggy summer heat all but rolled him for his wallet, combining with the effects of more than one flask of cheap whiskey and the dancing in as many tight, unbreathing layers to make the looming maze circle him rather than the other way round. Nathan had got one gloved finger into the knot of his orange plaid necktie, tugging his hooked finger around looking to loosen it rather absently and not so very effectually.
He blinked up at the girl with a blank expression for a moment, but then the voice registered with the rest and he worked up a lopsided scowl under the painted white teeth over his lips. "...Oh. You're you," he complained.
Jeanne-Marie chewed at the inside of her cheek and unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself, tracing the little silver-and-black patterns on her arms. Well, it wasn't as bad as she'd halfway expected... sort of? "I am, yes. I--I wanted to talk to you for a long time, but..."
"But you knew I'd have some choice words for how low you put Barry? Because I do have 'em, and they're very- The most choice," Nathan suggested in a petulant manner, as he realized his finger was well stuck and sent his other hand to help the first with the fiendishly clever knot. "The choiciest."
"Oh, I don't mind choice words," she said earnestly enough--though she wanted to smile a little. She couldn't help it, even though she was a little scared of what he'd say, he was so funny. Even when he didn't mean to be! Or maybe he did mean to be? She could never tell. "I just didn't think you would want to speak to me at all for how, ah, low I put Barry. If it means what I think it means. I didn't mean to, though!"
"You're pretty, so you should know better," Nathan told her all the same. He paused answering beyond that altogether, taking a full minute out to finally get his tie to ease and gape down to his collarbone. ...It looked a mess, bottom of the tail still tucked deep under his vest, but he didn't particularly care to correct it, reaching to take off his damned hot tophat instead and look at it like some (bleary) alien object before spinning the brim like a frisbee, aiming the hat generally in the direction of the next planter over.
Her fingers twitched to fix the mess of his waistcoat and tie, but she kept them on her own arms. Her gaze followed the hat until it landed--she wasn't sure if he'd meant to deposit it onto the planter or not, but it worked--then flicked back to Nathan. "I don't understand," she admitted. "What understanding comes with being pretty?"
It was nice that he thought she was, but...
"Pretty people," he said again, as if that was explanation enough. When her expression suggested it wasn't, Nathan sighed, rolling his eyes. "You're likely to break a lot more hearts than an ugly sod, aren't you? So you shouldn't, probably. Unless you've a mind to exploit it properly. It's a thing, y'know, you ought to think about some time. ...You're making it very hard to hate you right now, for example, between that and your stupid sweet, innocent, stupid gorgeous clothes and all," he tried to scowl at her and ended up failing into a near-pout. "And to think I liked you, Jimmy."
Though it took some concentration and involved more than a little accent-and-ramble created confusion, Jeanne-Marie did manage to follow most of that. She nodded, if a touch belatedly, at the bit about how she shouldn't break hearts, and then looked confused again at the bit about how she should think about exploiting--what?
But at the end, her face fell. "I understand if you can't like me--it was an accident, I really didn't know he thought of me like that--but you are right and I should." She wasn't entirely sure how that worked--it seemed a little self-centered to think like that, but then, for all Lil and Alison had taught her, Jeanne-Marie really didn't know anything at all about boys. Obviously! Surely Nathan would know more, since he was one. "But I want to make it better with Simon, if I can. At least apologize."
And that sounded almost decent, even. She was really taking all of the fun out of this. "The last girl he liked got him in the Facility," he told her after a beat. Maybe it was the drink, a little, so it might've come out of nowhere to her ears, but it made sense enough to him. Simon had got fucked over in the not at all fun and intended way. Him too because of that evil slag, come to think of it. Simon didn't have natural defences against a pretty face who showed even the slightest interest, was the lesson, and he'd thought, if this thing with Jimmy worked out... Ah, well. Forget it. There were loads of cute girls around the school yet, weren't there?
"I guess it's not entirely your fault," he admitted grudgingly. Nathan patted the bare spot on the planter next to him, which was well large enough to seat both of them comfortably.
She went to him immediately, almost eagerly, settling near enough that her skirts spilled over to touch his thigh. "I didn't know that," she admitted, still chewing intermittently at the inside of her cheek. "It makes me feel even worse--but even more resolved to make it better. I don't want him to--to be scared of girls. He is too adorable, it would be a waste."
She lifted one finger and reached for the mess of Nathan's tie, but paused mid-air, meeting his gaze again in a silent request for permission to fix. Touching people without asking was what got her into trouble in the first place!
Nathan stopped and looked at her finger, not sure what it was about, then back up at her face. "If you go and poke me in the eye right now, it's definitely going to impact all this progress we're making with our feelings," he told her.
She laughed before she could stop herself. "No, no. Your tie! Can I...?"
"Oh! Well, I don't know it'll match the rest of your costume, but if you like." He lifted his chin and stuck out his neck obligingly.
And now she couldn't stop laughing--but being a little nearer, she could smell a little something familiar that might suggest why he was even more wound up than usual. She set to righting his tie with his waistcoat with both small, clever hands and assured him, "It is not for me--though we do make quite a Halloween pair.
"Now, please, can you tell me how to convince Simon to speak to me, so I can apologize?"
Nathan caught on to what she was doing with the tie - thankfully not choking the life out of him, though it was a bit snug - and left her finish straightening him out. "That? He'll talk to you, probably, he'll talk. It's just... He's embarrassed to death and doesn't want anymore awkward out of it. He's not even blaming you." That'd been Nathan's job, to call her horrible things and get Barry completely pissed until he stopped saying depressing crap (passed out). "If you can corner him an' tell him it's all right by you, no sore feelings on your part, I dunno. That might do for him."
Once he realized she was done fixing his tie, Nathan put his chin back down, glancing about them. "Cornering him's the bitch of it, if he isn't wanting to be," he admitted. His voice lowered into mock-whisper where he looked back at her. "He turns invisible."
Really, for an encounter that had begun all nerves, Jeanne-Marie was really starting to hurt from laughing. She gave one last tug at his waistcoat with both hands then sat back to admire her work. "Yes, that is the problem. I think he does not want me to corner him. I don't know what he thinks I will say, but... well, yes. I can understand not wanting more awkward. There has already been a lot of awkward."
She sighed. Then had a thought. "Should I message him, maybe? Or text? Or you could say something!"
"Oh no you don't!" Nathan straightened from where he'd been admiring how she'd tidied him right up again, as if she'd tried to bite him when he'd got his guard down. "You're a sly manipulator, aren't you? M'not about to get entangled in your treacherous widow's web again, so forget that. My fault he even worked up nerve enough to try something," he mumbled. "You message 'm, if you want. Give him a little warning, maybe. He's taking video of everyone, so he's less likely to ghost off on yeh to begin. He's polite as fuck, so if you ask him plainly to talk, I bet he would."
She stuck out her bottom lip a little for most of that, thinking that she must not be that sly of a manipulator, or it would've worked (even if she hadn't thought about it like that--actually, she should've, maybe he would've done it if she'd been more sly). And what did he mean, it was his fault?
Leaning to the side to rest her weight on one hand, she sighed yet again and said, "Well, I would rather he didn't talk to me just to be polite, but as long as I get to the point quickly I suppose I am not too much of a--mmm, imposement? Imposition? Yes, that.
"And I know him only just well enough to know that he will be easier if there is no--as you say, awkward between us. All right. I will message him. If you will not be caught in my--what web was it?"
Nathan just looked at her and her pout-face and her sighing away, and finally lifted his lanky gloved hand in her direction, palm up. His fingers wiggled expectantly, brows lifting. "Y'want me to message him for you, then gimme your phone, Jimmy."
Jeanne-Marie looked skeptically at Nathan's hand for a moment, wondering if he was teasing her. Then reached into her skirts for a neatly hidden pocket and pulled out her phone, and handed it over. "Thank you. It's okay if he doesn't want to talk today though. I don't want to make him feel too, ah, scared? Just so he knows--sometime!"
"Right. That." Nathan punched in the letters for the message with a bit of backspacing and more than a couple of mangled words - maybe Frenchie here had it turned off because of all her French words - and hit send before returning the lady's phone to her to see. "You're welcome."
Ive been ateribble twat & yr a magnfcnt bastard
plz dance w me Barry? :*
Jeanne-Marie's face flushed as she read. She looked back up, eyes wide and startled. She couldn't think of anything to say but, "Nathan! That's not what I meant!"
In every way imaginable, it wasn't what she meant! Oh God, what on earth would Simon think of her now? She tried to think, but apparently all the blood was in her cheeks to flush it--not to mention her neck--and that was harming her brain. Or, well, she didn't even know. Just!
What on earth?
Though she was gone a lovely shade of fuschia, Nathan didn't seem to share J-M's concern in the slightest. He just shrugged his narrow shoulders some, idly pawing one side of his fitted black jacket where it met his waistcoat until he'd come back out with his orange flask again.
"Dosn' matter," he assured her, as low-key as he ever got, unscrewing his flask and carefully aligning the rim of the spout with his lips to tip back another swallow. He exhaled the huff of soothingly burning heat, looking down at the flask and giving it a jiggle to see what rotgut was left. Then he glanced back over at Jimmy where she sputtered, and helpfully offered her the flask. "Good for what ails yeh?"
Having nothing more to say or do but stare at her phone in horror, Jeanne-Marie accepted without hesitation and took a long drink--then sputtered when she finally realized how much it burned. "Oh my goodness, what are you drinking?" That was not like the vodka or schnapps Lil always brought her!
"Whiskey," Nathan told her simply. "Don't turn your pert little nose up now! S'quantity, not quality. Er - s'got quality of strong-ness," Nathan amended. "It's a good burn. It'll clear those sinuses right up, see if it doesn't. And if you run out of paint thinner, it'll take care of that too."
She wrinkled up her nose, yet took another drink before handing the flask back. She started to say, "I didn't mean for you to--"
But her phone buzzed. "Ah-ha! He knew!" She turned the screen to face Nathan triumphantly, so he could read Simon's reply: Nathan, give her her phone back.
"Of course he did," Nathan told her without bothering to read it, recollecting his flask. "We do that weird roommate-language...thing now," he explained as if it were obvious, brows cinching a notch. "I learned to speak Creeper at some point. Or he learned to speak Immortal. It's not exactly something deserving a brag, I don't think," he admitted to himself, getting distracted.
By which time Jeanne Marie had begun typing back to Simon: I am so srry I wabnted him 2 tell you I wanted to speak 2 u and apologize, not prtend 2 be me! Or trying to anyhow, but she was also listening to Nathan, except that the divided mind issue made what he said register more slowly.
She examined him anew, cocking an eyebrow. "Wait. You mean... you knew he would know it was you?"
Nathan shrugged. "Either way, s'bound to move things along and keep them interesting," he grinned.
She pursed her lips slightly, trying to decide if it was his way of getting revenge on her--which, well, he did deserve, because she'd want to do the same to anyone who hurt Alison or Lil--or if he was...
Well, he was Nathan. She sighed and opened her mouth to say something, but the buzz of her phone interrupted her. Simon said: You have nothing to apologise for.
She made a face at her phone, forgetting for the moment all about her little annoyance with Nathan. "Well. At least he is not pretending I don't exist?" She lifted her gaze to him again and said, almost like the thought surprised her, "Thank you. In a..." She wrinkled her nose. "Strange way."
"It's the only way I've got, Jimmy."
Feeling somewhat fortified from her successful dance with Brian, who had far more reason to dislike her than some, even, Jeanne-Marie finally made the decision to approach Nathan.
It was silly, of course. She knew she should approach Simon and simply speak to him. Apologize. Explain. But he was so hard to get hold of if he didn't want to be held, was the thing. And though she'd caught the glances from Nathan here and there--enough to know he was not pleased with her--she was glad for them. One thing she knew of him for sure: his friends were important to him. He would try to help them if he could.
She was not his friend, not after what she'd done, but Simon was. Maybe he could at least give her some advice? She approached, trying not to let the macabre makeup change her mind, but genuinely admiring his suit--and the orange in the tie and shoes! "Hello, Nathan. You look--very good."
He'd almost not recognized her at first (it was a mask party). Nathan had sat his bony arse on the rim of a large concrete planter with a topiary faun in, cut special for the occasion, it seemed. The skeleton-faced boy had stopped to sit when the muggy summer heat all but rolled him for his wallet, combining with the effects of more than one flask of cheap whiskey and the dancing in as many tight, unbreathing layers to make the looming maze circle him rather than the other way round. Nathan had got one gloved finger into the knot of his orange plaid necktie, tugging his hooked finger around looking to loosen it rather absently and not so very effectually.
He blinked up at the girl with a blank expression for a moment, but then the voice registered with the rest and he worked up a lopsided scowl under the painted white teeth over his lips. "...Oh. You're you," he complained.
Jeanne-Marie chewed at the inside of her cheek and unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself, tracing the little silver-and-black patterns on her arms. Well, it wasn't as bad as she'd halfway expected... sort of? "I am, yes. I--I wanted to talk to you for a long time, but..."
"But you knew I'd have some choice words for how low you put Barry? Because I do have 'em, and they're very- The most choice," Nathan suggested in a petulant manner, as he realized his finger was well stuck and sent his other hand to help the first with the fiendishly clever knot. "The choiciest."
"Oh, I don't mind choice words," she said earnestly enough--though she wanted to smile a little. She couldn't help it, even though she was a little scared of what he'd say, he was so funny. Even when he didn't mean to be! Or maybe he did mean to be? She could never tell. "I just didn't think you would want to speak to me at all for how, ah, low I put Barry. If it means what I think it means. I didn't mean to, though!"
"You're pretty, so you should know better," Nathan told her all the same. He paused answering beyond that altogether, taking a full minute out to finally get his tie to ease and gape down to his collarbone. ...It looked a mess, bottom of the tail still tucked deep under his vest, but he didn't particularly care to correct it, reaching to take off his damned hot tophat instead and look at it like some (bleary) alien object before spinning the brim like a frisbee, aiming the hat generally in the direction of the next planter over.
Her fingers twitched to fix the mess of his waistcoat and tie, but she kept them on her own arms. Her gaze followed the hat until it landed--she wasn't sure if he'd meant to deposit it onto the planter or not, but it worked--then flicked back to Nathan. "I don't understand," she admitted. "What understanding comes with being pretty?"
It was nice that he thought she was, but...
"Pretty people," he said again, as if that was explanation enough. When her expression suggested it wasn't, Nathan sighed, rolling his eyes. "You're likely to break a lot more hearts than an ugly sod, aren't you? So you shouldn't, probably. Unless you've a mind to exploit it properly. It's a thing, y'know, you ought to think about some time. ...You're making it very hard to hate you right now, for example, between that and your stupid sweet, innocent, stupid gorgeous clothes and all," he tried to scowl at her and ended up failing into a near-pout. "And to think I liked you, Jimmy."
Though it took some concentration and involved more than a little accent-and-ramble created confusion, Jeanne-Marie did manage to follow most of that. She nodded, if a touch belatedly, at the bit about how she shouldn't break hearts, and then looked confused again at the bit about how she should think about exploiting--what?
But at the end, her face fell. "I understand if you can't like me--it was an accident, I really didn't know he thought of me like that--but you are right and I should." She wasn't entirely sure how that worked--it seemed a little self-centered to think like that, but then, for all Lil and Alison had taught her, Jeanne-Marie really didn't know anything at all about boys. Obviously! Surely Nathan would know more, since he was one. "But I want to make it better with Simon, if I can. At least apologize."
And that sounded almost decent, even. She was really taking all of the fun out of this. "The last girl he liked got him in the Facility," he told her after a beat. Maybe it was the drink, a little, so it might've come out of nowhere to her ears, but it made sense enough to him. Simon had got fucked over in the not at all fun and intended way. Him too because of that evil slag, come to think of it. Simon didn't have natural defences against a pretty face who showed even the slightest interest, was the lesson, and he'd thought, if this thing with Jimmy worked out... Ah, well. Forget it. There were loads of cute girls around the school yet, weren't there?
"I guess it's not entirely your fault," he admitted grudgingly. Nathan patted the bare spot on the planter next to him, which was well large enough to seat both of them comfortably.
She went to him immediately, almost eagerly, settling near enough that her skirts spilled over to touch his thigh. "I didn't know that," she admitted, still chewing intermittently at the inside of her cheek. "It makes me feel even worse--but even more resolved to make it better. I don't want him to--to be scared of girls. He is too adorable, it would be a waste."
She lifted one finger and reached for the mess of Nathan's tie, but paused mid-air, meeting his gaze again in a silent request for permission to fix. Touching people without asking was what got her into trouble in the first place!
Nathan stopped and looked at her finger, not sure what it was about, then back up at her face. "If you go and poke me in the eye right now, it's definitely going to impact all this progress we're making with our feelings," he told her.
She laughed before she could stop herself. "No, no. Your tie! Can I...?"
"Oh! Well, I don't know it'll match the rest of your costume, but if you like." He lifted his chin and stuck out his neck obligingly.
And now she couldn't stop laughing--but being a little nearer, she could smell a little something familiar that might suggest why he was even more wound up than usual. She set to righting his tie with his waistcoat with both small, clever hands and assured him, "It is not for me--though we do make quite a Halloween pair.
"Now, please, can you tell me how to convince Simon to speak to me, so I can apologize?"
Nathan caught on to what she was doing with the tie - thankfully not choking the life out of him, though it was a bit snug - and left her finish straightening him out. "That? He'll talk to you, probably, he'll talk. It's just... He's embarrassed to death and doesn't want anymore awkward out of it. He's not even blaming you." That'd been Nathan's job, to call her horrible things and get Barry completely pissed until he stopped saying depressing crap (passed out). "If you can corner him an' tell him it's all right by you, no sore feelings on your part, I dunno. That might do for him."
Once he realized she was done fixing his tie, Nathan put his chin back down, glancing about them. "Cornering him's the bitch of it, if he isn't wanting to be," he admitted. His voice lowered into mock-whisper where he looked back at her. "He turns invisible."
Really, for an encounter that had begun all nerves, Jeanne-Marie was really starting to hurt from laughing. She gave one last tug at his waistcoat with both hands then sat back to admire her work. "Yes, that is the problem. I think he does not want me to corner him. I don't know what he thinks I will say, but... well, yes. I can understand not wanting more awkward. There has already been a lot of awkward."
She sighed. Then had a thought. "Should I message him, maybe? Or text? Or you could say something!"
"Oh no you don't!" Nathan straightened from where he'd been admiring how she'd tidied him right up again, as if she'd tried to bite him when he'd got his guard down. "You're a sly manipulator, aren't you? M'not about to get entangled in your treacherous widow's web again, so forget that. My fault he even worked up nerve enough to try something," he mumbled. "You message 'm, if you want. Give him a little warning, maybe. He's taking video of everyone, so he's less likely to ghost off on yeh to begin. He's polite as fuck, so if you ask him plainly to talk, I bet he would."
She stuck out her bottom lip a little for most of that, thinking that she must not be that sly of a manipulator, or it would've worked (even if she hadn't thought about it like that--actually, she should've, maybe he would've done it if she'd been more sly). And what did he mean, it was his fault?
Leaning to the side to rest her weight on one hand, she sighed yet again and said, "Well, I would rather he didn't talk to me just to be polite, but as long as I get to the point quickly I suppose I am not too much of a--mmm, imposement? Imposition? Yes, that.
"And I know him only just well enough to know that he will be easier if there is no--as you say, awkward between us. All right. I will message him. If you will not be caught in my--what web was it?"
Nathan just looked at her and her pout-face and her sighing away, and finally lifted his lanky gloved hand in her direction, palm up. His fingers wiggled expectantly, brows lifting. "Y'want me to message him for you, then gimme your phone, Jimmy."
Jeanne-Marie looked skeptically at Nathan's hand for a moment, wondering if he was teasing her. Then reached into her skirts for a neatly hidden pocket and pulled out her phone, and handed it over. "Thank you. It's okay if he doesn't want to talk today though. I don't want to make him feel too, ah, scared? Just so he knows--sometime!"
"Right. That." Nathan punched in the letters for the message with a bit of backspacing and more than a couple of mangled words - maybe Frenchie here had it turned off because of all her French words - and hit send before returning the lady's phone to her to see. "You're welcome."
Ive been ateribble twat & yr a magnfcnt bastard
plz dance w me Barry? :*
Jeanne-Marie's face flushed as she read. She looked back up, eyes wide and startled. She couldn't think of anything to say but, "Nathan! That's not what I meant!"
In every way imaginable, it wasn't what she meant! Oh God, what on earth would Simon think of her now? She tried to think, but apparently all the blood was in her cheeks to flush it--not to mention her neck--and that was harming her brain. Or, well, she didn't even know. Just!
What on earth?
Though she was gone a lovely shade of fuschia, Nathan didn't seem to share J-M's concern in the slightest. He just shrugged his narrow shoulders some, idly pawing one side of his fitted black jacket where it met his waistcoat until he'd come back out with his orange flask again.
"Dosn' matter," he assured her, as low-key as he ever got, unscrewing his flask and carefully aligning the rim of the spout with his lips to tip back another swallow. He exhaled the huff of soothingly burning heat, looking down at the flask and giving it a jiggle to see what rotgut was left. Then he glanced back over at Jimmy where she sputtered, and helpfully offered her the flask. "Good for what ails yeh?"
Having nothing more to say or do but stare at her phone in horror, Jeanne-Marie accepted without hesitation and took a long drink--then sputtered when she finally realized how much it burned. "Oh my goodness, what are you drinking?" That was not like the vodka or schnapps Lil always brought her!
"Whiskey," Nathan told her simply. "Don't turn your pert little nose up now! S'quantity, not quality. Er - s'got quality of strong-ness," Nathan amended. "It's a good burn. It'll clear those sinuses right up, see if it doesn't. And if you run out of paint thinner, it'll take care of that too."
She wrinkled up her nose, yet took another drink before handing the flask back. She started to say, "I didn't mean for you to--"
But her phone buzzed. "Ah-ha! He knew!" She turned the screen to face Nathan triumphantly, so he could read Simon's reply: Nathan, give her her phone back.
"Of course he did," Nathan told her without bothering to read it, recollecting his flask. "We do that weird roommate-language...thing now," he explained as if it were obvious, brows cinching a notch. "I learned to speak Creeper at some point. Or he learned to speak Immortal. It's not exactly something deserving a brag, I don't think," he admitted to himself, getting distracted.
By which time Jeanne Marie had begun typing back to Simon: I am so srry I wabnted him 2 tell you I wanted to speak 2 u and apologize, not prtend 2 be me! Or trying to anyhow, but she was also listening to Nathan, except that the divided mind issue made what he said register more slowly.
She examined him anew, cocking an eyebrow. "Wait. You mean... you knew he would know it was you?"
Nathan shrugged. "Either way, s'bound to move things along and keep them interesting," he grinned.
She pursed her lips slightly, trying to decide if it was his way of getting revenge on her--which, well, he did deserve, because she'd want to do the same to anyone who hurt Alison or Lil--or if he was...
Well, he was Nathan. She sighed and opened her mouth to say something, but the buzz of her phone interrupted her. Simon said: You have nothing to apologise for.
She made a face at her phone, forgetting for the moment all about her little annoyance with Nathan. "Well. At least he is not pretending I don't exist?" She lifted her gaze to him again and said, almost like the thought surprised her, "Thank you. In a..." She wrinkled her nose. "Strange way."
"It's the only way I've got, Jimmy."
