Jack had been in the proximity of The Underpass since before 12, but he spent a long time just walking around and wasting time. He knew Violet would be the only one there and didn't want to wait with her. He liked her in a way; she had long smooth hair and big roaming eyes - both brown. She seemed nice enough, but their friends were always saying they should date. He didn't really want to go out with her, and he had eyes for someone else; although really it was the chance she might say "no" that made him too scared to just ask.
Jack arrived at The Underpass at exactly 12:14. He thought that was ample time for the others to arrive but he still ended up standing and talking to Violet. They talked about people at school and funny stories they'd heard. Eventually a blurry silhouette of Tom came into view. A sociable guy with bright ginger hair who'd been Jack's best friend for years. Tom's girlfriend was wrapped around his side, swinging around and using his arm as a gravitational pull. Her name was Lola. She had bright brown hair that bounced around as much as she did. She gave the impression of always smiling even when her face was blank. Thusly she seemed happy with someone's presence even when those who knew her better knew she wasn't. Jack was in love.
"Sup, broskeees" Tom said in that exaggerated voice of his. "We've been waiting here ages" Violet said as if they weren't always late. "Hey, we should go to Cafe Nero, I've got loads of coupons" said Lola. As they made their way they split into two groups - the girls and the boys - occasionally someone asking questions that broke this divide. The girls talked about a trip they were going on next month and the boys talked and music and what nerds they were and everything that spiraled from that. It wouldn't take long - definitely wouldn't take any expert - to work out how, after their initial meeting as children, Jack and Tom's relationship had turned out: after the brief time they spent where they shared in all the same likes and dislikes, Jack started to like video games and the occasional piece of literature and rarely liked going out, yet was dragged to every social engagement Tom, who had found more solace in hanging out with groups of girls and frequently updating social networking sites, went to. They were that paradox of childhood-into-teenage friendships: if they met now they probably wouldn't be friends, would probably hate each other, but as it stood it was their differences that seemed to keep them together.
The day was a pretty normal Saturday for the gang of four. First they talked while they powered up on caffeine, then went around an assortment of very niche-targeted stores, browsing but not buying anything, and eventually getting pizza before being at the cinema for six, which they'd planned for weeks. Three of them seemed to be having a good time, but Jack's day could be described as mixed at best. He started the day on a roll, he felt, making jokes and announcing anything he wanted to say loudly to the group. But every time he spoke his mind instantly went to Lola. Did she find him funny? Would he have even spoke to her if it wasn't for Tom? He tried to strike up conversations with her, make her laugh and engage, but he didn't know what he was hoping this would lead to. Nothing could happen. By the time they got to the cinemas he felt drained, he was hardly speaking at all now. He was glad to get to hide in the darkness of the cinemas.
The movie was the sort of cheap horror schlock that both boys had always enjoyed seeing, girls or not. They sat in the cinema, which was moderately busy. From right to left they were sat: Tom, Lola, Jack, Violet. The last two were sharing a popcorn and the other two had seen this as some sort of romance blossoming between the two, they'd even cracked some jokes about it. But sitting there, all Jack could think about was Lola. He didn't even dare glance over at her, right next to him, in the fear that it would all be written in his eyes, just how crazy about her he was.
On the screen the killer, a fairly two dimensional lunatic whose unique physical attribute was a splurge of face paint, put an axe through a teenage girl's head. For a few seconds there was mass activity among the audience. Jack knew that Lola grabbed Tom's hand tight when it happened; he either saw it out of the corner of his eye or simple sensed it. He felt hurt by this, as if she was somehow cheating on him. But thinking this only made him feel bad, and feel worried that he'd become so attached to her that maybe his brain considered the two of them going out even if he knew they weren't.
While they sat there, the lights on the screen all but a blur to Jack, he slipped into fantasy. It was one of those half-dream half-fantasies, in which your still conscious but you only have limited control over what's going through your mind. Jack couldn't tell if what he was thinking was direct thought or was his brain just running off. He imagined Lola getting up to go to the toilets, even whispering this lie to Tom, then getting up and, with the slightest of facial movements, signaling to Jack. He would also excuse himself to the toilets around a minute later, somehow Tom not being perplexed by this at all (his imagination afforded Jack this one suspension of disbelief). He would get outside to be hit by panic that she wasn't there. Would she be waiting for him in the guys or should he risk it in the girls? Then the door of the guys would slide open and she would be there, dragging him in by the belt - itself quickly removed once they got into one of the cubicles. They'd start kissing and making out while they chucked their clothing off. Then she'd fling her arms around him and they'd start screwing. They'd both be groaning so loud that people would walk into the toilets and then leave immediately. Then she'd give out a gasp, and she'd lay her head down straight into Jack's chest. Buckets of sweat would be pouring off the both of them. He figured this was as good a guess as any for what sex is like. What was strange was that at the end of every one of these fantasies, Tom always walked in on them. The movie came to an end.
The sun was fading by the time they came out. They went straight to the bus stop, finishing off the popcorn and making funny references to the movie. At the bus stop they spotted a school friend of theres, Max. He had his hair spiked up, like always, and he was wearing a sleeveless shirt. These were the best ways he had managed to personify his live-everyday-like-it's-your-last attitude into his physical appearance. He invited them all to a party at his house that he and all the people he was with - complete unknowns to the gang of four - were headed to now. They all agreed to go. Jack and Lola made phone calls home to see if this would be alright; Tom and Violet didn't bother.
By ten the party was well under way. People were fairly drunk and lounging around. Jack was most drunk of the four, sitting on a couch with Violet and one of her friends, a funny girl, Jack thought, called Abbey. Jack was feeling pretty content just to sit with them, the beer making the occasional moments of nothing to say not matter. Tom and Lola sat on the opposite side of the room, on two chairs near a table of food. Jack didn't mind at all until they started kissing. Jack felt frozen, like everyone was looking at him and reading his mind even though he knew no one was. They seemed to kiss for a really long time. Eventually they stopped and Tom got up to go talk to someone in a different room. He was a lot more drunk than Lola was.
Jack looked at her, sitting there alone. He started hoping that Violet would start getting off with him and that he'd look over after and see Lola trying to hide how upset she was about it. He doubted even one of those things would happen and very much doubted that if it did happen it would lead to the other. By this point Jack felt restless. Such constant thoughts of this girl and nothing else had turned his head inside out; his mind now registered Lola as being important to the universe as a whole. Maybe his life wouldn't be able to continue if he didn't get her. His subconscious secretly feared that all the growth hormones in his body would shut down and he'd be trapped in the body of a 17 year old boy forever. He'd still be in this body when Lola was 80 years old, and he'd still be chasing after her. He couldn't have her yet he feared his feelings would never pass. He stood up and marched across the room to the seat that Tom had been sitting in next to Lola. He looked at her face. He was drunk and probably wobbling into too-close proximity to her face. Why had he sat down? He had nothing to say to her. He just looked at her and went in for a kiss.
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