Drorit watched Jackson walk to the soda machine, then stole a glance at the teenager who still sat as inscrutable as he had when she’d first arrived. But somehow, somewhere, they’d gotten something out of him. Or was it she? Watching Jackson squeeze the …. kid would have sounded wrong … Marc’s shoulder sent a short pang of jealousy through her. How she would have longed for such a place where she felt like she was in the right one, where she was doing something that she knew she was good at. But then again, for some reason, whoever had become of her had picked this job for a reason. So maybe this was a case of “fake it till you make it”, even though she could feel the desire to spill her insecurity mounting by the second. For the moment, she contended herself with trying to maintain a semblance of order by carefully stacking up her documents and placing them into a briefcase which she didn’t even feel belonged to her, and then forced a smile when Jackson came to open the door for her. “So I take it you come here a lot if you know the place well? Doesn’t that get depressing at times?”
She could feel some of the tension washing away with every step she took, and Drorit had to remind herself that she’d have to keep herself together even during this informal conversation. Even a misstep here could get her fired, though the relief also gave her a twitching mouth born from the attempt at trying to suppress a grin of relief. It didn’t help that now that they were out of the school environment, Drorit no longer felt like Jackson was one of the people who could help her maintain an aura of popularity. “Yeah, it’s much more pleasant to talk to someone who didn’t even know what they’re doing than to talk to someone who would probably want to murder you for something you were born into,” she commented, with the cynicism that she assumed someone in her position would have collected by now. “I’m just really hoping he’ll come around. Not do that again. What do you think? He’s gonna manage?”
Talking about work was hard. Talking about herself might be even harder. Drorit shrugged to signify You know, but then realized that was not enough. “I’m engaged now,” she said, looking up with a nervous grin. “To Jordanna? I don’t know if you remember her from school? She was a year below me.” A clownish gesture, because in school her popularity probably would have been completely eroded by that confession: “Went to the IDF and that’s what happened.” Even though she knew fuck-all about when and how she had actually come out.
“it does.” It didn’t matter if he had been there countless of times or not, the place was depressing in nature. It was colorless in that everything looked the same under the dull, fluorescent lights. It was cold and scentless. It was quiet, too, except for the mechanical sounds of locks being locked and unlocked remotely granting passage to those with access. Even if they were practically the same age, they weren’t really, and something within Jax felt for Marc. It’s what made him want to buy him a soda, what made him want to reach forward and squeeze his shoulders in a comforting, almost paternal gesture. He wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. He wouldn’t want to be there alone. Shrugging, he waited for Drorit to join him. “I honestly don’t know. There’s not a way to know for sure, I guess, but we can only hope, right? How about you? How do you feel about it?”
Hands in pockets, the blonde raised his brows at the mention of being engaged, smiling as if to say congratulations without speaking the word. “J-Jo?” Not that they were friends, but they were friendly. Jax and Jordanna had fooled around a time or too, of course he remembered her. Then again, they had been in class together just a few days ago that he could remember! “IDF... shit, a lot has happened in... 10 years? I mean, good for you, Drorit. It’s a badass job, you know, and Jo is an amazing girl too so, all the best, really. From the bottom of my heart, and yes, I have one—as hard as that may be to believe!” He smirked, knowing his reputation probably preceded him with those that had no contact with him to see or know of his apparent change. Holding the door for her as they reached the coffee shop, Jax smiled and nodded. “Order whatever, it’s on me. For old time’s sake—or, you know, to make up for the ass I was back then at least.”
