Jayne cocked an eyebrow and as Jamie bent to clean up the mess he lifted his boot shaking the meat from it, "Get up kid I'll take care of it." He grumbled suddenly feeling embarrassed for the kid. The laughter of the students was harsh and he felt it washing over him. Familiar but horribly uncomfortable even when it wasn't aimed at him directly.
Jamie shook his head doggedly, not looking up from his clean-up job, the other kids' laughter grating on his already tattered dignity. "Nah, 'sokay, I got it. Besides - " He trailed off, not really sure what else he'd been going to say. He pitied the janitor, inasmuch as he could muster such feelings for anyone beyond his own shell of depression. Guy always seemed defeated, resigned to his fate, something with which Jamie identified keenly.
He frowned to himself as he wiped up the last of the mystery meat and flicked the napkins onto his tray, reaching to upright the soda can next. "...not like anyone else is gonna help clean this up, right?" he ventured, finally darting a glance upward.
"That's because I get paid for it." Jayne grumbled as he pulled out some well used rags and threw them to the floor to help mop it up, "Go on you wanna give those brats more of a reason ta pick at you? They see you're a decent person they'll eat you alive.
"I made the mess, I can at least help clean it up," Jamie insisted, though he'd fixed his eyes on his task again and was refusing to look up. "I know what it's like to pick up after every...one..."
...huh. Did he? His dad was pretty good about cleaning up after himself, and other than that there was nobody else whose messes Jamie could conceivably feel obligated to take care of. He shook his head, frowning in exasperation. This wasn't the first weird flash he'd had lately, the feeling that sometime, somewhere else, he'd experienced things he couldn't quite remember.
In response to the rest of the man's comment, Jamie chuffed quietly. "Well, who cares what they do. In six months I'm outta here. Never have to deal with them again."
"Lucky you." Jayne commented moving away for a moment and coming back with a broom and dustpan for the peas, "Transferring out?" The smalltalk was automatic at this point. Part of him was still burning with embarrassment for the kid that he was helping clean up. The crowd was still giggling and smirking with superiority as they worked. Ruthless little monsters.
No, transferring would mean that Jamie was leaving Fairplay, and he wasn't that lucky. "Graduating." He pushed one of the rags around, trying to better sop up the spilled soda. He wasn't oblivious to the other students' laughter, and his cheeks were still burning, but he was doing his best to ignore it.
"Boy...hell of a way to remember your last few months." A nice dry response as he chased after stray peas with his broom, "My kid's graduating this year too, barely."
Jamie merely shrugged. "I'm used to it by now." Didn't mean he liked it, but at least it was a familiar sort of misery. "Besides, this town's full of jerks. Highschool's supposed to be all about preparing you for the real world, right?" The sarcasm and bitterness in his tone were faint, but noticeable.
He fell silent for a moment or two before he mustered the will to glance up once more, briefly. "Your daughter must be excited to be getting out of here."
A bitter laugh, "Yeah, you could say that. So much so she'll be lucky to get her last few credits." He wasn't proud of the truth, but his daughter was sluffing and goofing off every which way these days. He had to wonder how on Earth she'd gotten this far in school to begin with.
"Yeah, well. 's not like there's much point in even coming here most of the time. Teachers don't give a crap whether or not anyone shows up or does their work." He found he actually envied this girl who wasn't even bothering to pretend to put any effort toward something she didn't care about. There'd been plenty of times he'd thought about skipping school, but the thought of his dad's disappointment when he inevitably found out dashed the idea from his head every time.
Still, not a day went by that he wasn't filled with a profound if muted rage about the town's indifference and the fact that he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life sitting in the middle of it. He scowled at the rag still soaking up his spilled soda. "Nobody in this town gives a damn about anything."
"Yeah well...get used to it kid." Jayne grunted and glanced around the lunchroom again scanning for messes and potential messes. "High School is like life with training wheels. Once you get outta here it's the same crap you dealt with here but with bigger consequences. The same people will always be on top." Tired words from a beaten man.
"Yeah, 's what I thought," Jamie muttered. He fell silent for a few moments, cleaning up the last traces of his spilled lunch, then picked up the tray and got to his feet. "Wul, like I said. Six more months and I'm done with it. All of it." He started toward the exit again, casting another glance at the janitor. "Thanks for the help. Sorry about your shoes."
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He frowned to himself as he wiped up the last of the mystery meat and flicked the napkins onto his tray, reaching to upright the soda can next. "...not like anyone else is gonna help clean this up, right?" he ventured, finally darting a glance upward.
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...huh. Did he? His dad was pretty good about cleaning up after himself, and other than that there was nobody else whose messes Jamie could conceivably feel obligated to take care of. He shook his head, frowning in exasperation. This wasn't the first weird flash he'd had lately, the feeling that sometime, somewhere else, he'd experienced things he couldn't quite remember.
In response to the rest of the man's comment, Jamie chuffed quietly. "Well, who cares what they do. In six months I'm outta here. Never have to deal with them again."
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He fell silent for a moment or two before he mustered the will to glance up once more, briefly. "Your daughter must be excited to be getting out of here."
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Still, not a day went by that he wasn't filled with a profound if muted rage about the town's indifference and the fact that he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life sitting in the middle of it. He scowled at the rag still soaking up his spilled soda. "Nobody in this town gives a damn about anything."
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