For the record, JJ thinks this is stupid as shit.

Like, fucking Saturday? At school? There’s gotta be laws about this shit. Just for being caught with a little weed? Hey, he knows Mr. Johnston tokes in his spare time, anyway. (He’s gotta be, handlin’ JJ half the week. When he rocks up, anyway).

Anyways, his sob story was fucking hood, okay? Pulled out the waterworks and everything—there’s a real art to it. It’s not his fault Johnston has it out for him.

Though, there’s one good thing about this, maybe.

“Hey,” JJ hush-whispers as he swings back on his chair, eyes fixed on the side-profile of the pretty, pretty girl in front of him.

You don’t seem to hear him. A little frown tugs on his lips. His eyes flicker to the closed door. Man, they should really know better than to leave him unsupervised.

“Hey,” He tries again, to no avail. Well, no fear— JJ’s a resourceful guy. He crumples the paper you two are supposed to be using to write some bullshit essay, and promptly lobs it at the back of your head.

When you twist, a pleased little grin tugs his lips. He’s got his arms crossed, legs kicked up on the table, snapback turned backwards.

“What’re you in for?” He waggles his eyebrows. He’s bored, okay. You’ve gotta be bored, too. Also; pretty boy like him and pretty girl like you? Little bonding time never hurt.