Chapter 149 Chapter One Hundred And Forty Nine
JACE'S POV
“Fuck my life.”
School was over now.
Most students had left the moment the final bell rang, but the four of us were still stuck here, sentenced to two weeks of arranging our way through what felt like every book ever printed.
I grabbed a stack of hardcovers from the cart and started shelving them in what seemed like a logical order, grouping them by size, then by colour.
I wasn’t a fucking librarian, the school already had people for this. Besides I wasn’t even supposed to be here at all.
If it weren’t for Allison and her petty bullshit none of this would’ve ever happened in the first fucking place!
"Mr. Dawson."
Mr. Reeves's voice interrupted my thoughts, his voice in my ear was so annoying it reminded me of nails on a chalkboard.
He appeared beside me, glaring at the arrangements I had been making with a disapproving look.
Why the fuck was he even here? I wondered.
He looked far too young to be a teacher, almost like he was fresh out of college, and Westbrook had very strict standards for hiring even professors, let alone guys like this
Already there were whispers going round the school about a "hot new substitute" joining the staff.
Who let their nepo baby nephew get a job here?! I grumbled under my breath, glaring at his stupid face.
"The Dewey Decimal System exists for a reason," he said, his tone dripping with disdain. "We organize by subject and author's last name, not by which books you think look pretty together. I assumed this was basic knowledge, but perhaps I was mistaken."
I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth might just crack.
You stupid try-hard asshole, if we weren’t on school grounds I would’ve shoved your Dewey Decimal System right up your— "Right. My mistake."
"Your mistake indeed." He pulled several books off the shelf that I had just organized and dumped them back in my hands. "Start over. Properly this time."
Clearly, he still carried a grudge after what happened during the first period, and on a normal note, I would’ve made him eat his words in a dark alley somewhere where no one would hear him bitch for help.
But we were on school premises, and the image of my father's cold, disappointed face, ready to ship me off at a moment's notice, kept me frozen in place.
I grabbed the books and started all over, silently cursing under my breath with every volume I replaced.
Once Mr. Reeves moved away to torture someone else, I made my way over to Marcus, who was whistling happily, apparently having the time of his life organizing this shit.
"Dude." I stopped beside him, dropping my voice low.
Marcus looked up from the book in his hands, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Yo, look! To Kill a Mockingbird." He held it up with a wide smile. "Haven't read this since freshman year. Mrs. Sinatra made us write that essay, remember? About justice and shit? I failed it, but I remember the hilarious presentation you gave, you almost wet your—"
"Don't you want to get out of here?" I asked, incredulous.
He gave me a blank look. "Get out of here? Why?"
"Why?" I stared at him. "Because we have better places to be than doing this shit. Practice officially starts tomorrow. We should be going over plays right now with the rest of the team, not alphabetizing books nobody ever fucking reads.”
“Your girl reads them.” Marcus cut in, still looking blankly at me.
“Seriously, we could literally be anywhere else. Your house, or mine actually, because I can't be here. This is a waste of time."
Marcus shook his head, carefully sliding the Harper Lee novel into its proper spot "Hell no. Look over there."
I followed his gaze across the library. Jake and Noah were on the other side, carrying stacks of books up a stepladder to reach the higher shelves.
Jake went up, arranging the books on the higher shelves easily, while Noah stayed on the ground and struggled slightly, trying to keep the ladder from falling.
I glared at Noah's back. "What about it?"
"That's the little twerp who felt too damn important to let us haze him a little last semester, so obviously I didn't let him play" Marcus said, his voice taking on an edge I rarely heard from him. “I’ve been keeping my eye on him.”
"Yeah, I've seen that junior hanging around my house." I placed a book on the shelf with more force than necessary. "I think he's one of Lena's friends, though I really don’t like the kid. Is he giving you problems? Because that can easily be fixed."
I made a fist, cracking my knuckles for emphasis.
Marcus laughed it off, waving his hand dismissively. "Nah, man, I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm good."
He paused, then muttered under his breath, "So that's why."
I grabbed another book, something about World War II, and turned to face him. "Are you going to tell me what the hell you're talking about, or are you just going to keep being cryptic?"
"Nah, forget it. I'm probably just overthinking it." He reached for another stack of books from the cart.
"Spit it out. What do you mean?"
Marcus, who usually had the reasoning skills of a brick wall when it came to anything that wasn't football, suddenly looked at me with unusual clarity in his eyes.
He set down the book he was holding and leaned against the shelf, crossing his arms.
"The reason why that guy Jake is cozying up to your superstar not-girlfriend in the first place is because he has his own little payback in mind, and she’s going to help him do it, whether she knows it or not."
I blinked. "What?"
"Think about it." Marcus picked up a copy of The Great Gatsby and examined it thoughtfully. "No offence, but Lena is most likely doing this rebrand thing for attention—"
"Watch it," I growled.
"—or a cry for help, sure," he continued, unfazed. "But mostly because she wants to get back at Allison, right?"
I shelved the World War II book extra slowly, using the time to process what he was saying. "And me."
"Yeah, definitely. Also you, for basically making her life hell the past three years." He said it matter-of-factly, with no judgment, just stating facts. After all, he was a proud bully too.
"Every time you set her up for a prank or called her names or ignored her when she needed help, and publicly announced that you were actually dating Allison and not her, plus a bunch of other stuff, you were adding fuel to this fire," Marcus murmured.
My chest tightened with uncomfortable guilt. "So? Get to the fucking point."