It's been a few weeks since I started this plan and it's been working so far.
I finish putting in the last of my tiny braids and go make myself a bowl of cereal. I overestimated the time this would take me so I have time for an actual breakfast. I finish up and go to school, claiming my new seat in the opposite corner of the one I fought Jacket for.
Things have been quiet aside from Jacket and Suit fighting more and more often. They argue just about every time they meet. Apparently, border crossings between them are becoming more and more common, but both sides deny ever crossing.
My guess is they're both lying, trying to pick fights over nothing. Every time I see Jacket he looks angrier and colder, and Suit just keeps collecting girls. He's flocked by them everywhere. Though, I suppose it could be my imagination.
Today at lunch Suit comes into my quiet place, just him, no lackeys or girls.
"Princess, people are beginning to talk. Things about Green threatening you or harming you to keep you from talking back. Are they true, Princess?"
"No, I just don't like gangs, and especially not gang leaders," I say, wanting to make this quick.
"Then I suppose I'm not wanted either. But, if you ever want to talk, or just complain about him, I'm always open." He says before turning to leave. I sigh before responding.
"Wait." He does as told, stopping by the door. I tear a slip of paper out of my notebook and jot down some digits. "My number, if I'm not looking at you, it might be easier." He goes to take it but I bring it back to me. "But, whatever I write is in complete confidentiality. Tell no one, show no one, share it with no one. It stays between us. Deal?" I finish.
"Deal." He replies.
"Then it's a promise." I hold out the paper and he gently takes it, pulling out his phone and putting it in.
"Thank you, Princess, for giving me this opportunity. Talk to you later." He leaves, letting me eat my lunch in peace. He's never going to give up on calling me Princess, is he?
I finish up and head for art class. On my way, I'm pinned to a locker by a familiar arm.
"Hey, Jacket." I greet.
"Jacket?" He asks. "You talking to me, or the thing I wear?"
"You, I call you Jacket because it's your only defining feature."
"Never mind, why've you been so weird? What happened to Sweetheart who would always stand her ground? Or have you changed your mind about picking fights?" His voice is gruff, but under it, I think I hear something. Concern? No, he's a gangster, a rotten nobody, why'd he be concerned about me?
"I'm not being weird, I just have better things to do than argue with the kind of person I swore to never get tangled up with again. Now, if you'll excuse me." I go to leave, side-stepping away just like I did three weeks ago. And just like three weeks ago, I'm pinned on both sides.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean? You swore? Again? Tell me!"
"You don't unlock my backstory until you stop being a gangster, now..." I give him a good uppercut and make my way for the parking lot. I need to go home. And maybe they'll leave me alone now that they have what they want. Jacket has his answer, and Suit has one last girl in his number collection.