Sweet Jayne

“Me toes are frozen solid!” Frankie howled in her faux-Scottish accent upon entering the library, barely audible over the commotion coming from the large study table where a few of the self-proclaimed popular kids were having an arm-wrestling tournament, a common event on the weekends here. During the weekdays, the library is no nonsense and no one speaks very loudly, lest they be in serious shit. However, on the weekends, the ground level of the library turns into more of a common area where people are free to talk and do whatever it is that the kids who have staked claim of the area do.

“You’re wearing boots, Frank. Grow a pair,” Kip snorted, stomping her feet so the snow from her own boots shed onto the carpet.

I stood by, shifting from foot to foot so I might grow some feeling back in my feet. I made the mistake of not wearing boots while travelling with Kip who is notorious for shoving people into snow banks as a show of affection. I was soaking wet to say the least, but mostly my socks were packed with snirt. “C’mon, guys. Let’s get move on. I wanna take off my shoes,” I said. Technically you’re not supposed to remove your footwear in the library, but some kids do. I like doing it during the winter because the big fireplace near the couches where my friends and I usually hang around warms up my tootsies real fast.

“Oh, you too?” Kip guffawed. “Why are you all so—“

I shot her a silencing glare. “Don’t even.”

“Right. Well. How about we uh, go, yeah?” She jabbed her thumbs towards the area past the growing crowd centered around the table.

I smiled a little ruefully, yet with satisfaction and began to walk, Frankie and Kip on my tail, bumping hips. However, a couple of boys broke off from the big mass, joking with each other until they were standing right in our way. The two were ones that everyone knew—the golden boys, the biggest jackasses you’ll ever meet in your life. Jayne and Graham—nicknamed Shep. Their eyes set on us—cold, icy blue with no hope of ever warming and bright, impish green, incapable of kindness. “Hello, ladies,” Shep slurred as usual, too lazy to form his words. He stumbled causally towards us, biting his bottom lip.

“Let’s go, Shep,” Jayne ordered, staring his friend down. I could feel the ice forming, cooling the air around us.

Shep glanced at him easily. “Whatever you say, boss.” He popped his lips and stepped back.

“S’cuse us,” Jayne muttered, slipping past me, leaving behind the soft smell of detergent.

Shep slid up to Frankie and pulled on the collar of her pink coat. “Nice jacket, sweet‘art.” And then he slithered to Jayne’s side.

Frankie’s face screwed up into her signature scowl and Kip balled her fists at her sides, turning slowly.

“Oh, no, no, no,” I said, putting my hand on Kip’s arm.

She shrugged it away. “Hey, you making fun of her?” she called.

Shep turned and slapped on a messy grin. “Nah, nah. Calm down, little sister.”

“Don’t you tell me to calm down,” Kip said, raising her voice.

“Hoo hoo hoo,” Shep cooed back to Jayne, smirking. “She’s a firecracker.” He trained his eyes back on Kip and wetted his bottom lip. “I can dig that.”

And that was the point of no return. Kip is the type of person to jump straight into battle to defend a friend’s or her own honor. It’s almost never a good thing.

And so, my best friend Kip tumbled, figurative guns blazing, into a fist fight with one of the most popular boys in school. “You watch your mouth!” And before anyone knew it, Kip was straddled on top of Shep, landing nasty punches to each side of his perfectly angular jaw. But then the tables turned when Jayne intervened, grabbed Kip’s wrists, and said, “Enough.”

Kip slid off Shep’s legs and onto the floor, a little dumbfounded. Shep sat up, rubbing his jaw. “Jesus Christ.” He shot a look of both awe and irritation at Kip.

“Let’s go,” Jayne said, tugging Shep up by the collar of his shirt. Shep stumbled up, sparing some glances back at Kip before lurching towards the door.

Kip got to her feet and crossed her arms smugly, nodding in satisfaction. “Hmph.”
But I wasn’t paying much attention. I was watching the backs of the retreating boys. Shep— lazy, leaning back. Jayne—straight-backed, military-like marching footsteps. And they reached the door, tugged it open, letting some of the recent snowfall blow in like ashes in the wind. And then he looked back—Jayne. Blue eyes, black hair. Black and blue. Blue and black. An icy cold stare.

“—the only thing I can say for him is that he wouldn’t hit a girl.” Kip nudged me in the side and I stumbled a little, still seeing black and blue. I gave a little smile and a nod and followed behind Frankie and Kip as they walked over to our usual spot, the kids around the table giving us looks the entire way. However, I didn’t care. I was still seeing black and blue.