The Cowboy, the Casanova and the Canteen

[The Delaney Twins]

“Look,” Kennedy said, starting to get irritated. “I’m not saying that it’s the best method ever, you know, comrade. I’m not even saying that it’s one of the better ones. But if you’re going to come to me for advice, I’m afraid that’s it. I can’t offer you anything else. Nada. Zilch. So please, stop being such a whiny little bítch about it and just let me do it!”
“Kennedy, no,” Arihant said, obviously trying not to laugh. “I’m sure that even you wouldn’t think that that could possibly – ”
“It does,” he retorted defensively. “Trust me.”
“How on earth is it going to help anything?”
“Well, it worked for me,” Kennedy intoned as he reached past his companion for a plate in the stack that they were walking past. Arihant noticed, roused himself, and did the same.
“Maybe it worked for you in your situation,” he pointed out. “But our situations are vastly – no, completely different. It’s not going to be helpful at all!”
“You’re no fun, you know that?” said Kennedy, then smiled at the dinner lady who was heaping a pile of greyish mashed potatoes onto his plate. It was always better to stay on good terms with the help, after all.
“Not letting you scare the living daylights out of a teacher because she doesn’t like me does not qualify as not being fun,” Arihant said, refusing the plaster-coloured slop by waving an apologetic hand. He wasn’t exactly a connoisseur when it came to canteen food, and it showed. “It qualifies as being sane.”
“And so dámn sensible,” Kennedy continued vaguely as if he hadn’t spoken. Then he glared accusingly at Arihant. “She’d never work out that it was me, you know.”
“Of course she would! You’re the only mimic in our class!”
“Ahh, but in all her classes?” He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Arihant still hadn’t accepted anything. “Are you detoxing or something?”
“What?”
Kennedy rolled his eyes. “Get something to eat, you nitwit. You can starve on Sally’s watch, not mine.”
Arihant glanced down at his empty plate as if surprised to see that it was there. Then, after a quick scan of what ‘hot’ (read: lukewarm) food there was on offer, he set it down on the side bench and grabbed a chocolate bar instead.
“Yeah, because you’re going to eat that,” Kennedy said under his breath, trying to lean past him to get at the last of the chicken nuggets.
“Stop trying to change the subject,” Arihant said, his eyes narrowing. “Promise me that you won’t do it.”
“Do what?” he snapped as he saw the person in front of Arihant take the last of Kennedy’s lunch before he had even had half a chance to look at it. It looked like he’d be having another lovely meal of mashed potatoes and questionable-brown-pie.
“Do your doppelganger thing with Professor Connery!”
“Fine! Fine. You can sort out your own messes, I don’t care,” he said sullenly as he was served the dreaded goo. It certainly looked appetising. A sea of muddy greases with the odd lump of undercooked pastry floating around in it like a drowning grasshopper.
Arihant went to pay for his food without saying another word, just emanating a smug air of victory that would have had Kennedy punching him in the face if it wouldn’t break his hand.
And kill him, come to think of it. He always forgot about that part.
He grabbed a Mars bar to make up for the general lack that the rest of his lunch displayed, then headed over to the till that Arihant was just leaving. The Indian tried smiling at him, but Kennedy’s face didn’t change one iota.
Just go on. Go on, you traitor. Eat your stinking chocolate bar, what do I care?
Then he turned to the woman he was about to hand his fiver to, and his face broke into a cheek-cracking grin.
“May!” he said, completely delighted, and pulled the fiver back just out of her reach. “How are you doing today, my darling?”
Predictable roses blushed on her pale cheeks at his outburst, and she swallowed, pushing a brown curl back into her hairnet. “Kennedy,” she said, smiling awkwardly. “I’m fine. That’ll be three pounds, then.”
“Of course, of course,” he said, stuffing the fiver back in his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “I’ll get that exact for you, it’ll be faster.”
“Oh, really, your note is fine, there’s plenty of change – ”
“Nonsense there never is,” he said without pause. “Anyway, we haven’t spoken in ages, have we?” He set a 20p on the counter. “How is life down in merry old Cards – ”
“Fine, I said it was fine,” she said quickly before anything else could come out of his mouth. He remembered too late that no one here was exactly supposed to know that she lived in Cardsdale, although why he didn’t understand. It wasn’t like they were going to track the dinner lady, no matter how pretty she was.
He set another two pounds on the counter. “You’re not up here as much as you used to be,” he said nonchalantly.
“They changed my shift,” she said, pulling the money into the till quickly and neatly. “I do breakfast now. Mostly.”
Ah.
That was why. May was always on tills, and Kennedy rarely bothered paying for his breakfast. Few did, as far as he could tell. He doubted that Orchid would miss an orange or two, which was all he could really stomach in the morning, anyway.
Maybe he needed to start, then.
“Well, that’s a pity,” he said, trying to lower his voice but not doing very well. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered even keeping his own voice if he was stuck with that Scotsman’s ridiculous tenor. “We should really do something to make up for it.”
“Should we?” she asked, wincing slightly.
“Of course!” he said, a little too quickly, then cleared his throat before continuing in a lower tone. “Of course, there’s – there’s a market on in Cardsdale, isn’t there?”
“I’ve been,” she said. “Ken, you’re holding up the queue.”
“Or we could go down the pub – ”
“You’re not legal.”
“Or the bowling alley. There’s a bowling alley, now, isn’t there?”
“Yeah, but – ” She seemed to draw a blank on how she could refuse him on that one.
“But?”
She sighed. “Look, Kennedy, don’t do this again.”
Kennedy clenched a fist, but it was out of her line of vision, and put the other eighty pence on the table.
Of course, that wasn’t to say that he was giving up.
“I really don’t understand you,” he said, trying to keep judgment out of his voice. “What is it you want from me?”
“I don’t want anythi-”
“Traditional? Is that it?” he asked, growing a bit desperate. “I can do traditional, you know. I can do just about anything.”
“What do you mean by traditional?”
“You know, pick up lines and all that. I can do that. Really.”
Could he?
The answer was a resounding No. He didn’t know any pick up lines. He hadn’t exactly had time to learn them.
But no problem. The Internet was his friend. He pulled up google in his head and did a quick search. Pick up lines, pick up lines…
He had to go faster, he could hear grumbling behind him. He picked the first website he saw – brilliant! It had success rates. Scan, scan (scan faster, you don’t have all day) –
Look, there was one. 13 successes out of 13 attempts. Great!
“Oh, my beautiful darling!” he began, and she began to look scared. Well, it wasn’t his fault he was such a good actor. “For a moment I thought I had died and gone to heaven. Now I see that I am very much alive and heaven has been brought to me.”
“Kennedy, stop,” she said, noticing curious glances that she was getting from her workmates.
OK.
OK, so that one hadn’t worked. No matter. He looked further down the page. Twenty out of twenty, that was good too.
“I can’t believe I’ve been here all evening with all these beautiful people and the moment I find The One, all I have time to say is ‘goodbye’.”
Oh. Oh, no. Cráp. That one didn’t even make sense.
He looked up to see May’s reaction, and saw that she was now trying to stifle laughter. Right.
So maybe this wasn’t going as well as he’d thought it would.
Just one more. Just one more, this had to work. Seven out of ten, that wasn’t bad, was it?
“Have you always been this cute, or did you have to work at it?”
The look on her face gave him a pretty good idea of her stance on the ‘traditional’ method.
“OK, Ken, stop,” she said through her giggles. “Seriously. You’re one step away from asking me if I’m wearing mirror pants.”
…
Cráp.
Maybe he shouldn’t go on, then…
Dámn, but he was no quitter! He began to scan again for lines. There must be something. Something good. Maybe the ones that didn’t have any successes would work better than the ones that did…
If that even made any sense at all.

[Jude Dorrian]

ooc: *swears she will re-through and edit at some point*

Ever heard a hungry dog cry? It's probably one of the most painful sounds in the world- especially coupled with those big ol' eyes, the sad, sloping shoulders and the quivering jaw. Jesus, dogs could get to Jude. He used to feed the strays back home as much as he could, 'cause he always heard them moaning, whimpering and barking. Jesus, they knew what buttons to press.
However, the pity he felt for them wasn't a patch on the frustration he felt when his own stomach was making the same goddam noise as they did!
All along the lunch queue, his moans of hunger were echoed in a chorus of groans and whimpers. It even made the scraps of food left by the original masses of grabbing hungry hands look good. Jude poked miserably at the curling black bacon strips, edging out of the way of the line a little to see what the hold-up was.
At the top of the line, a guy with his back turned to Jude was jabbering at rather than to the poor woman at the cash register. Jude recognized her vaguely- she usually did the morning shift, and he'd spoken to her before. The real question was, would she recognize him, and accept his rescue?
Because, as Jude shuffled forward slightly, and began to catch the conversation that was going on, he realized very quickly that this woman needed rescuing.
"I can do traditional, you know. I can do just about anything."
"What do you mean by traditional?" She looked more scared than anything else.
"You know, pick up lines and all that. I can do that. Really."
Whoa.
Maybe it was the guy who needed the rescue, not her.
Jude reached out and patted the shoulder of the girl in front of him. She jumped about a foot in the air, rounding on him indignantly.
"What the hell are you- ?!"
Jude held up a hand. "Okay, okay, sorry. Didn't mean to scare y'all like that. I just wondered- are you hungry?"
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Who in this queue isn't hungry?"
"Cool," Jude nodded, "yeah, I get that- now, what would you say if I told you I can get rid of that guy within the next five minutes?"
"You wanna bunk?"
Jude bowed his head with a smile. "If y'all don't mind."
"Kick his ass outta there!" the girl said forcefully, then, grabbing Jude by the arm, shoved him forward past to the very front of the queue. Nobody seemed to mind the particular shift in the queue pattern- they seemed to realize Jude meant business, and it was a little humbling they'd let him take a try.
Setting down his tray, Jude rubbed his hands together, turning to see how far the conversation had deteriorated. And... er... well... it wasn't good.
"Have you always been this cute, or did you have to work at it?"
Jude was almost overcome by laughter at that point, but the smell of food that still was not rightfully his for the taking kept him standing his ground. The same however, could not be said for the line behind him. The chat-up lines were being passed back and echoed and tried out over and over. The poor guy didn't even know he'd become an object of derision.
Still, it was better than them sharpening their forks and charging.
Jude's gut feeling told him that he was the only thing that stopped this murderous crowd.
It was a thing someone must've have told him a long time ago, and it was a thing Jude had never forgotten: dogs are goddam sensitive about their food.
You must never never go near a dog when it's eating- don't try to pat it- don't try to take its food away- you will get hurt. Never tease a dog with food- it'll get grumpy, and y'all do not want that. Never starve a dog- remember, you're either a pack member and provider or a sack of meat to them. And when you hear 'em growling, move away.
Very, very fast.
And people, as it turned out, were an awful lot like dogs, in an awful lot of ways. Seriously- ever seen someone lose a chip and get mad?
It ain't pretty.
This guy may as well have hung a target around his head.
So Jude- manners aside- elbowed his way in front of the guy, tipped his hat to the poor woman, and smiled that smile that screamed:
"Don't worry. I'm here- and I'm gonna save you."
His hand dipped inside his trouser pocket, and he pulled out a twenty pound note.
"Howdy, May. Ain't he got the right change?"

[The Delaney Twins]

The webpage shuddered out of its tenuous existence just behind Kennedy's vision as he stumbled back from the sudden elbow in his chest. He would have been annoyed at its disappearance if some (ever-so-slightly more rational) part of him hadn't realised that it was probably better that it was gone.
And after all, he'd probably achieved his purpose by now. (Or what he had decided was his purpose after the third attempt had tanked.) Clearly, those lines were not supposed to work.
So... he had been trying to show her how much worse it could be. Yes. Yeah, that was it. May had it lucky, really. Her admirer didn't (generally) deign to use such low methods. And while Kennedy knew that most sensible, upstanding, respectable citizens like himself didn't stoop to using those sorts of lines, he had no doubt that people did somewhere else.
And just as he was thinking that, a decidedly Texan voice delivered the enquiry from the boy who had just pushed so rudely in front of him.
Hmph. Well. Kennedy knew enough of New Yorkers to know about their reported aversion to organised queueing...
But Texans?
Well, in the end, it didn't matter whether this behaviour conformed to a stereotype or not. The irritation that Kennedy hadn't felt when he'd lost his page sprung up in full force with the pointed question,
"Howdy, May. Ain't he got the right change?"
Ahh, condescension. Just about the best tack to try with Kennedy.
May was still laughing in little hiccups that weren't as easily suppressed as one may have originally assumed. Or wished.
"No," - another little burst, God she was cute when she did that - "No, he does. Sorry for the holdup, sir."
He hated the way she treated the Orchid pupils like that. Never failing politeness, all these "sirs" and "misses". They weren't better than her. If the world was even slightly fair, it would be the other way round.
"Ken was just... hmm." And she smiled at him, she smiled at him! D*mn, maybe the pickup line people had known what they were doing.
"Just trying to prove a point, I think," she said, pushing the till shut. "But he's done now, aren't you?"
Oh good. She wasn't smiling at him. Not properly. She was getting rid of him.
"Tell Lynn I said hi."
She turned back to the Texan guy - did Kennedy recognise him? Yes, come to think of it, he was a spy too - and scanned his food quickly, coming up with the quick result, "£2.80, please."
And Kennedy noticed all the stares coming from the crowd that had formed behind him. Oh, fanbloodytastic.
Inwardly, humiliation sprang up.
Outwardly, he rolled his eyes and picked up his tray, preparing to walk off quickly. He would have spoken to the guy, he guessed...
...asked him what the hell that was all about...
...asked how a private conversation was any of his business...
...asked who the hell he was, anyway...
... if he had been the type. A warrior, he guessed.
No, actually, not a warrior. Being a warrior meant nothing. After all, look at Arihant.
But Kennedy wasn't all that great with conflict. And so he started to get the hell out of there, quickly. He could keep the blush off his cheeks, sure, but continuing to stand around there like a gormless fool would only bring more scorn from the bystanders, which he didn't exactly wish for.
At least he didn't have much of a reputation to be ruined, anyway.

[Jude Dorrian]

Uh oh.
Jude watched as the other guy- 'Ken'- turned on his heel to flee the scene with the impression that 'Ken' probably didn't know just how big a favor he'd just done for him. Turning back to May- that name had been a lucky guess; it was either that or Mary, but he seemed to have gotten it right- he smiled and handed over the change.
"Y'all don't have to call me, 'sir,' you know," he informed her, "or else I'll have to start calling you, 'm'am,' and that title would age you more'n a little bit."
She was young; maybe only a few years older than Jude himself and she had a real nice face. One look at her led Jude to wonder whether 'Ken' was the only one she had to suffer those attacks from-
Oh. Jack.
He sighed inwardly.
Poor, poor girl.
Smiling at her as he picked up his tray and turned away, he watched as a chain reaction of relief swept down the lunch line. The girl who'd shoved him forward gave him an appreciative nod as he moved forward and out of her sight. Catching up with 'Ken', Jude quickened his pace so that their footsteps fell in unison.
What he was gonna say, he'd no idea. Maybe an apology... or an explanation of some kind... maybe some advice. Or maybe 'Ken' wouldn't care what he had to say- after all, Jude had just humiliated him in front of...
Who was she anyway? A crush? An ex-girlfriend? Someone 'Ken' liked to tease?
She certainly seemed to know him... she'd mentioned a 'Lynn', and 'Ken' was usually reserved as a nickname, was it not?
Yeah. She knew him, alright.
But... what could he say? An apology didn't quite fit the bill, did it? By now, the guy probably hated him a little bit, and anything Jude had to say wasn't going to go down well.
'Ken' sure was walking fast.
"Hey," Jude cleared his throat, hoping he would stop. "Hey, hang on a second... Ken? It's definitely Ken, right?"
Well, this was it. Time for the clever words to spew out. Time for the perfect words- time for the sticky glue words- time for the words that would make it all seem alright. Jude would have them both laughing over the whole thing in five minutes.
Of course he would.
So Jude took a deep breath, opened his mouth and said-
"Y'all ever heard a hungry dog cry?"
... eh. Could've been worse.

[The Delaney Twins]

Kennedy stopped directly in his tracks and stared at his stalker, his hands clenching on the plastic tray.
He couldn't have said what Kennedy thought he had just said. He just couldn't have.
He looked at him for a minute, trying to place the face. He knew now that it had already been in his catalogue, as he liked to call the collection of voices and appearances that he was able to pull out on demand, and he was fairly sure that he was another spy, but short of that he could remember nothing.
He liked the voice, though, loath as he was to admit it. He'd pick that one if he ever had to go to America.
"It's Kennedy," he said after a suitable pause. Few people seemed to realise this, but he hated being called Ken. From Ken, people assumed 'Kenneth', and he didn't want to be associated with that name after he had discovered...
You don't need to think about that now.
But that didn't stop anyone, of course. Well. He could just about stomach it from Sally and Ari (but only because he didn't seem all too fond of the various nicknames that Kennedy had given him) and May, obviously. May could call him whatever the hell she wanted; she'd still be talking to him.
"And no," he continued, referencing the Texan's random question. "Can't say I have."
Or... well, maybe he had at some point. A long time ago. But he would have hardly been in a position to notice a dog's hunger back then.
And now. Well. His parents looked after their dog, disgusting and overly-friendly though it was. He doubted that it had ever even experienced hunger, let alone been particularly vocal about it.

[Jude Dorrian]

Seeing the look on 'Ken's' face, Jude realized that he'd be lucky to get to the end of this conversation without becoming the top contender for the number one spot on 'Ken's' Hit List. Taking a step backwards now, Jude got a proper look at him, and with a thrill of surprised, also realized he recognized him. This guy was a Spy; and aside from having a fairly good memory for faces, this guy had always stood out to him because...
He had purple eyes.
It was like Steve with his mood-changing hair. Although Jude couldn't say for sure whether or not 'Ken's' eyes changed color, the unnatural color of his eyes (like Steve's customary happy green hair) really made him stand out. That, and he always wore that black overcoat. It was like some kinda trademark.
Sort of like Jude's cowboy hat, which he suddenly feeling very aware of. Reaching up, he tipped his hat upwards very slightly; almost... nervously.
"It's Kennedy."
Oh thank God. Jude felt his heart elate for two reasons.
1. If that silence had gone on for much longer he might've imploded and
2. The name 'Ken' reminded him of that blond doll's boyfriend, and that was not a good thing to associate someone with.
But Kennedy was a much better name- a perfectly reasonable one. Jude was happy to call him that.
Kennedy was looking more and more distrustful by the second. Jude decided it was best for him to keep smiling... y'know; to lighten the atmosphere.
"And no. Can't say I have."
Aah. Right. Well... er... there was no way in hell Jude was gonna do an impersonation.
Instead, he cleared his throat. "Alright... er... let's think about this a different way. Y'all know the way people can get pretty darn tetchy about their food?"
He should do- everyone knew this.

[The Delaney Twins]

Reluctantly, Kennedy found some vague spark of admiration for the way the guy just stood there and kept smiling while he glared at him. He himself would have given up by now. He didn't bother wasting his persistence on strangers as well as his friends; if he did, he would have worn himself out completely long ago.
But this boy was still here. And still trying to make some point that was completely lost on Kennedy. Maybe he was trying to... explain how hungry he was? And then, by extension, why he'd elbowed past him like that?
Well, to use a canine metaphor of his own, the guy could really just let sleeping dogs lie. It wasn't the first time that someone had been rude to him by any means. And it had irritated the hell out of Kennedy, but that didn't mean that it needed to be justified. People were rude. It was a fact of life.
What was one more rude guy to Kennedy?
However, a sense proportion didn't matter now. An unwilling curiosity flickered to life in Kennedy's mind and he knew now that he'd have to stay here while he made his point.
About... hungry dogs...
Well. He'd just wait and see. He had to hear it. If he didn't, it would bother him all day.
"Aye," he answered shortly. Deciding to give what's-his-face - he knew the name, he could swear it, it was on the tip of his tongue - a chance wasn't going to get any more eloquency out of him. In fact, the only real outward sign that shoed was the relenting of the impatient, unimpressed look that had been on his face before.

[Jude Dorrian]

"Aye."
Hmm. This guy sure wasn't much of a talker. Ah well. That didn't present much of a problem to Jude. It was always much harder to try and make a point to someone who kept interrupting you. Chatterboxes were awkward people- and not Jude's favorite kind either. Especially since the word 'chatterbox' often coincided with 'gossip'.
Jude sighed inwardly. He picked up on enough of that by accident as it was without being told by some busybody who didn't know how to mind their own business.
"Well... all I was really trying to say was... dogs are the same," Jude continued earnestly. "In fact... it's pretty universal. Y'all would have to be off your rocker to try and get between a starving dog and its food. Almost as nuts as someone who takes their friends' chips without asking. Hunger... well... it's like instinct, ain't it? Do whatever the hell you can to get fed. And people really will do anything to get fed..."
Jude lowered his head; his eyes disappearing under the shadow of the brim of his Stetson.
"And I mean anything- even if that means having to drive the person standing at the front of the line chatting to one of lunch ladies six feet under first."
It was as good an explanation as any other... right?

[The Delaney Twins]

Ah. So Kennedy had been right. The guy was trying to explain what had happened back there.
Honestly, Kennedy hadn't really thought about it that way before. It made sense, he guessed, which was strange for him. All that psychocrap about food and animal instinct and survival of the fittest - it'd always managed to just sail right over his head. Other people weren't his strong point. He just... didn't get them.
And that presented more of a problem than he really would have imagined if he hadn't had first-hand experience of it.
And speaking of getting other people... What did he say now? The point had been explained, but to be honest, it still irritated him a little.
But showing that irritation wouldn't exactly go down well, would it? Anyway, he wasn't irritated with what's-his-name, he was irritated with himself. If his cowboy companion was right, it meant that he'd made even more of a fool of himself in front of the canteen people than he'd thought he had before.
He tried smiling.
"Well then, comrade, seems I owe you some kind of blood-debt," he joked weakly.
Wow. Awkward.
He glanced over his shoulder at Sally and Ari. Typically enough, they were talking away with the few other people at their table - or at least, Sally was - and barely even noticing that he wasn't there. Ingrates.
Well, he could apologise, then he could leave. "Sorry for holding you up, I guess," he said, and shrugged. Kennedy wasn't good with icebreaking. Or introductions. Or much of the conversational stuff that didn't involve looking like an egomaniac, really.

[Jude Dorrian]

Kennedy may be trying to joke about it, but Jude could tell he was growing increasingly awkward, and increasingly embarrassed. Still, the fact that Jude hadn't been punched seemed like an achievement. Smiling sympathetically as Kennedy apologized, Jude decided he had best do the same.
"I'm sorry, too," Jude cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of that woman. She seemed nice. I can see why you like her."
Was that going too far?
Maybe that would make it even worse for Kennedy- the fact that he'd so easily spotted his crush, and his clumsy attempts to woo May over. Jude really hadn't meant to embarrass him. He'd only wanted to help- and he hoped his explanation showed that.
Feeling awkward in their silence, Jude decided to make the next move.
He stuck his hand forward. "I'm Jude, by the way."

[The Delaney Twins]

Well, it would have been a bit much to hope that the spectators to his little show wouldn't have realised that he "liked" May.
But that was OK. He wasn't popular enough for people to remember it for more than a couple of days. Or so he hoped.
He carefully balanced his tray on one hand, then shook Jude's, his smile widening and, strangely enough, his embarassment fading after the honesty that had gone beforehand. Honesty was just about the best attribute someone could possess, in his opinion. Not to say that he had it, but he appreciated it in other people.
"Well, hello Jude, then," he said while shaking his hand, carefully avoiding quoting the Beatles. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Seriously, though," he said as he let go and re-balanced his tray. "Don't worry about embarrassing me in front of her. I think I managed that one all by myself, no?" He grinned. "And anyway, I'm sure May's used to it by now."

[Jude Dorrian]

Now Kennedy's smile was- finally- genuine.
Jude glanced over at the lunch queue, which was- also finally- thinning. May was currently foraging through the cash register, evidently trying to pick out the correct change. A few coils of her hair had escaped from her hairnet, framing her face.
"Y'all have... liked her for a while, huh?" Jude said softly, looking back at Kennedy. It wasn't really a question.
It wasn't a word Jude often used, but Kennedy was what Tameron liked to call, 'smitten'.
It was exactly the same word she liked to apply to him and Ailith; something which Jude- understandably- did not appreciate.
"How long's it been?" Jude asked carefully, then added quickly, "if y'all don't mind me asking."

[The Delaney Twins]

Kennedy bit his lip, knowing that the answer would make him sound pathetic.
"Three years," he said, shrugging again. "Or thereabouts. But she hasn't... y'know, known all that time."
After all, it would have been a bit strange, a seventeen-year-old girl going out with a fourteen-year-old boy who was painfully aware of his status as 'jailbait'. But he'd really thought that when he turned sixteen that it would make all the difference.
Apparently not. And apparently being seventeen didn't count for much either. Even when his physical appearance was of a guy older than May herself, so far as he knew.

[Jude Dorrian]

Three years...
God. Jude couldn't quite imagine what that must be like. He hadn't like Ailith for half so long before he was given the opportunity to ask her out... and it'd all really been okay from there on. They'd worked. Okay, so things were a bit awkward in the aftermath of their argument, but they still did work.
Hell, he was in love, and only after a few short months.
He wondered if Kennedy was in love with May.
He also felt it best not to ask.
"Wow," he said softly, glancing up sympathetically. "That's... rough, Kennedy."

[The Delaney Twins]

He'd never really thought of it that way - rough.
It sort of worked, he thought as he glanced back at where May was still doling out change to his classmates. That was it, the feeling that gripped him when he saw her serving people no better than her, when he realised that chances were she saw him as nothing different from the rest of them. Rough.
"Well, yeah," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "But it's OK. It'll all sort itself out in the end."
Because there was a chance she'd say yes some day, after all.
And if she didn't...
Well. He could get over her, right?