Believe Me, I'm Lying

Jack’s day goes relatively quickly. He has four classes that are an hour each. Two are in the morning and two are in the afternoon. His students are pretty quiet – probably because it’s a Monday and they were out late partying the entire weekend. He can’t blame them, considering he was doing the exact same thing. Jack’s not exactly what you would call responsible, really. He goes out Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights with his friends, going from club to club and bar to bar and not even caring about what they have to do the next day. He’s been this way since high school, though, so he’s probably not going to change very soon. The only reason he has a job is because of his father.

At the end of the day, Jack is packing up his papers and textbooks in his office, looking forward to finally going home. He can’t wait until he can just sit on his couch and watch TV and be lazy. Of course, he does have some papers to grade, but that won’t be too bad. He can look over them while eating Chinese take-out and watching some lifetime movie on TV, or something.

He plans on getting out of the building as quickly as possible, without having to stop and talk to anybody. He doesn’t really like socializing with anyone else who works here – they’re all older than him, really. However, his wishes go ignored, because when he pushes open the door that will lead him to the parking lot, it just so happens to hit someone who was trying to come inside, causing that person’s belongings to fall to the floor.

Jack groans, knowing that it would be really rude if he just kept walking, and he bends down, picking up a tattered notebook. He looks up to hand it back to the person, but he’s caught off guard when he sees that it’s the boy from the coffee shop earlier. Alex. Their eyes meet as Jack hands over the notebook, and the other boy blushes hard under Jack’s intense stare.

“T-thanks,” he manages to say, standing up straight once he’s got all of his books and papers back in his arms, “Sorry about that-”

“It wasn’t your fault. I hit you with the door,” Jack laughs, trying to ease the tension, “You um… You’re from the Coffee Bean. The new kid.”

Alex nods, a bit hesitantly, “Yeah. That’s me. You’re Jack Barakat.” His words don’t form a question, but rather a statement, and he sounds pretty nervous, too. “I’m really sorry about not having your coffee ready-”

“Hey, dude,” Jack interrupts, putting his arm on the boy’s shoulder, “It’s totally fine. I told you that. Don’t worry about it.”

“I…Okay,” Alex nods to himself, shifting his backpack from one shoulder to the other, “I um, I have to get to class-”

Jack raises his eyebrows, “You have class now? So late?”

“I take night classes. I work at the coffee shop during the day,” Alex explains, taking a step towards the door, “Nights just work better for me.”

“Oh. Well okay, then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Alex nods, and Jack grins as he watches him go through the doors. The boy’s adorable, he admits to himself. Getting to know him could be up next on Jack’s list of things to do.

*

The entire fifteen minute drive back to his apartment, Jack can’t stop thinking about Alex. He just keeps picturing the boy in his head, thinking about how attractive he is and cute it was that he seemed so nervous. Jack’s not going to lie to himself – if the opportunity were to present itself to him, he would totally sleep with him.

“Wait a second,” He says out loud, interrupting his thoughts, “Is that even okay for me to do?”

He ponders for a second, trying to remember if it would be considered a student-teacher type relationship – if you could even call it a relationship – and then he decides that it really wouldn’t. Because Jack is not Alex’s teacher. He’s pretty sure there’s nothing wrong with it.

He laughs, then, shaking his head just as he pulls into the parking lot of his apartment complex. He’s thinking irrationally. He really doesn’t know Alex at all. Plus, the kid looks like he’s eighteen. It would be wrong of Jack to do that and probably not exactly legal in some way if they’re taking age into account. Oh. And, not to mention, Jack sort of has a fiancé. But that’s the last thing on his mind. He’s not exactly the most faithful guy around and as long as she stays in the dark about that, Jack’s safe.

He parks in his assigned parking spot – number eighty three – and turns the car off. Grabbing his books and briefcase, he gets out of the car and makes sure it’s locked before heading towards the front entrance. The doorman is standing in his usual spot, smiling kindly at Jack as he approaches.

“Afternoon, Mr. Barakat,” he greets, opening the door for Jack to walk through.

Jack smiles in return and nods. He doesn’t know the man’s name and doesn’t really plan on finding out. He doesn’t feel too badly, though, because he knows that his father sends the man a pretty generous tip every few weeks.

He takes the elevator to the seventeenth floor, getting out and walking down the hall to the room numbered ‘1742’. He unlocks it with his key and steps inside, and instantly he’s greeted by a very familiar, unpleasant smell. He knows what it is and he sighs and leans back against the door, looking up at the ceiling with a frown. Why does God hate him sometimes?

“Jacky!”

Her voice is absolutely horrid, and Jack winces and pushes himself up from leaning against the door and pastes a smile on his face just as Ashley emerges from his bathroom. She runs to him, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him hard on the lips. Her perfume is even stronger now than it was when he first walked in, meaning she just applied more while she was in the bathroom.

“Hey, Ash,” He says softly when she finally pulls away. Her hands are on the back of his neck and they’re freezing and he just wants to shove her away from him. But he doesn’t and instead pecks her on the lips once more before gently stepping away. “What are you doing here?”

“I just figured I’d surprise you,” She says, giggling halfway through her sentence, “Now we can go out to dinner!”

Jack really wants to say no, that he has a ton of shit to do and that he really can’t leave the apartment until he’s finished, but he doesn’t. He smiles and nods at her, causing her face to light up with excitement. She’s pretty, Jack will admit, with her long blonde hair and perfect features. She has curves that other girls would die for. And as far as girls go, he’s sure she’d be high up there on the ‘hot’ list, if this were high school. And sure, she can be nice sometimes and not be a total bitch. But the bottom line is that she’s a girl. And that’s totally not what Jack’s into.