Have you ever walked into a room and realized people were just talking about you? A sudden silence thickens the air and 40 pairs of eyes look up at you simultaneously, watching and waiting to see what circus trick you'll do next.

Well, have you ever walked into a room and realized people were explicitly talking about how you single-handedly fucked up homecoming and sent the crowned queen storming off near-tears?

I have. With a hangover, and the whole crew in tow. King of the Dancing Monkeys indeed.

As much as I tried to black it all out last night, I wasn't ignorant to the fact that what happened at Homecoming spread like wildfire. All it took was one person to see it go down - just one little spark to ignite the engine on the rumor train, and all trains left from here.

Broadway Diner was the only legitimate diner in town - meaning it was the only place that served breakfast (hangover food) 24/7, and on the weekends cliques and groups in every stage of recovery from whatever shit they got into the night before flocked to it like it was like the god damn watering hole in the African savanna. Cliques and groups that also took far too much of an interest in me this early in the morning.

Half the upperclassmen on the girl's soccer team at a table in the back corner eyed us as we got sat down at our usual booth by the front door. Bells jingled on the door, signaling every arrival and departure, and I made sure I had a good visual on it in case I needed to make a quick exit to avoid prying eyes...or to vomit. As I slid all the way across the sticky red plastic cushion of the booth, Jordyn waited until everyone else was seated before gently lowering herself onto the end of the bench next to Rochelle, making sure to avoid eye contact as she sat down. As far away from me as possible.

Most of us had crashed at Anthony's last night, although after taking an ineloquent, Oxy-induced wrecking ball to Jordyn's feelings, she drunkenly barricaded herself in one of the guest bedrooms we usually stayed in, leaving me to sleep in the upstairs den on the pull-out futon with Rochelle. With meaning as far away from each other as the space would allow, all while she hogged the blanket and advised me to keep my morning boner away from her backside unless I wanted to wake up with a black eye.

"Well if it isn't my favorite group of degenerates," Marcie said as she approached our table, her white hair far too much of a windswept mess for this early in the morning. Marcie had been managing Broadway Diner since we were all in middle school, and she'd been serving us bacon and pancakes from post pop-warner football game afternoons to post football party mornings. The only difference between then and now was how much we could all eat in one sitting.

"Don't lump us with these neanderthals," Rochelle scoffed and put her hand to her chest. "Me and Jordyn are upstanding citizens of this community."

"You're degenerates by association," Anthony jabbed Rochelle in the side, and she swatted his hand away. A tiny smile pulled at Jordyn's lips, but she kept her head down.

Marcie sighed and took a pen and notepad out from her apron. "Call it whatever you want, as long as you're not jerking each other off under my table. Five coffees?"

We gave Marcie a collective nod, and she returned shortly after with a tiny mug of milk and a container with packets of sugar. I instinctively reached for one and tore it open, pouring bits of sugar onto the wooden table. I grabbed the fake crystal salt shaker and dug the corner of it into the little pile of sugar, effectively balancing the shaker on its side. It was a stupid trick my dad used to do at restaurants when I was a little kid, and I was always so flabbergasted by how it worked. When I grew up, I realized there was no trick - just like I realized there was no trick to making my dad proud of me - it was just physics.

"Dallas?" Marcie tapped me on the shoulder with her pen. "You're uncharacteristically quiet this morning."

"Sorry." I rubbed the side of my face and sighed, looking down at the mess I made with the sugar.

Marcie shot another puzzled look my way. "So are you eating, or...?"

"Two eggs over easy, a double stack of chocolate chip pancakes, and a side of bacon, burn it," I grumbled. "...please."

The moment I looked up over the table at Jordyn, she averted her eyes from mine again, and we did that dance back and forth in a stale, uncomfortable silence until our food came. The tension between us was palpable enough to actually reach out and grab it, which also meant it was visible enough to anyone who actually looked for it.

"Lovers quarrel last night?" Anthony chimed in.

It wasn't funny. When it came to drama and bullshit, and especially when it came to me, all Anthony saw was a big red button that says do not press. So naturally he felt the need to smash it with a bat.

Jordyn looked down at her miserable plate of eggs and subtly scraped her fork around. Heat pooled around my shirt collar, and I shoved another forkful of pancakes in my mouth to avoid having to answer him and say something I'd regret.

"You two are so boring," Anthony groaned. He shifted his body to face Chris, who was also preoccupied with dousing his eggs in hot sauce. "Please don't tell me you didn't get any last night either."

Chris let out a frustrated huff. "And you did?"

"No," Anthony rolled his eyes. "But unlike you two, I don't act like the god damn world is ending if I don't."

"Can you just shut up and eat your fucking pancakes?" Rochelle chimed in, pointing her knife in Anthony's direction.

Anthony was prepping to fire back something else at Rochelle when the bells to the door jingled, and in came Kennedy Prince with two other field hockey seniors in tow, looking significantly less hungover in their skin tight Nike leggings and cropped shirts...and somehow more hostile. Kennedy looked in our direction, and it made Rochelle squirm in the sticky plastic booth.

"Fancy seeing you here." Kennedy's voice was about five octaves too high, and it made my eardrums rattle.

"Hey," she forced a smile up at Kennedy. It was not, in fact, fancy seeing us here. We were regulars, and the whole godforsaken high school population knew that.

"Did you end up having a good night?" Kennedy asked the table, but she directed her gaze at Rochelle. While there was no knocking Rochelle's loyalty to us, her desperate need to cut any kind of relationship that even looked like it would go anywhere with the sharpest set of scissors she could find ultimately drove her decision to join us at Anthony's last night, instead of going to whatever afterparty Kennedy and her crew went to.

"Yeah, we did," Rochelle gestured to the group of us.

"You were invited to my place, you know," Anthony chided. As if whatever party they had gone to was nowhere near as great or trashy as his.

"We went to Jackson's," Nicki Fredricks cut in. She was a squeaky little sophomore who was apparently more than good enough for the varsity field hockey squad, but that didn't change the fact that she still sucked up to Kennedy like she owed her a kidney. "It was just way more chill, you know? Kaia didn't want anything crazy after what happened last night."

After what felt like way more than just a moment, Kennedy gave Nicki a punctuated look, and it shrunk Nicki where she stood.

Despite the fact that Jordyn initiated the first strike, it became more than apparent that the only thing other people saw after the smoke had cleared was Kaia - no longer crowned queen - storming away from me, the dipshit King.

"Anyway, you're always welcome to join us in the future, Ro." Kennedy shrugged.

"Can't really say the same about the rest of you," Nicki chimed in with a casual wave of her hand.

"Ro?" I couldn't stifle my laughter quick enough, and it was met with a sharp kick in the shin from Rochelle. As much as I knew we'd joke about it later, nicknames (and general verbal signs of affection) made Rochelle more uncomfortable than she'd ever admit. She pressed the knife in her hand firmly down on the table.

Even though I knew Kennedy's anti-squad had seen me at the table from the moment they walked up to us, when their full attention shifted to me, it was like a cloud descended over the table. Something dark came over me, and I straightened up in my seat.

"Guess even nicknames are forbidden in King Dallas's constitution." Alexis Meller leaned over and placed her hand down on the table beside my plate. I'd known Alexis since freshman year, mostly because she was one of the few people that regularly flanked Kaia, like a general in her own personal army. Kaia's obvious distaste for me had spread through her ranks. "You've really got everyone here under your thumb, don't you?"

There was a collective inhale, and it stung my insides the way cold air does in the middle of December. But it was still September, and the leaves and the trees hadn't died off yet. Apparently my dignity had.

For the first time all morning, Jordyn sat up straight, and I recognized the storm in her eyes - it was the same look she gave Kaia last night at the dance.

"If you have something to say to Dallas, just say it."

As if I wasn't already aching from a bad hangover and some cheap tackles from yesterday's game, add emotional whiplash to my list of ailments. She was allowed to be angry with me, but god forbid anyone else was. My words last night may have stung her, but here she was defending me anyway, and the guilt from that lingered longer, like a bad bruise.

Alexis glared over at Jordyn, but Jordyn remained unwavering. Alexis finally scoffed and turned to walk away.

"I have nothing to say to that leper," she grumbled, but loud enough for the rest of our table to hear.

Anthony sputtered out a laugh. "That's a new one. Did you hear that Dallas? You're a leper now."

This time it was Rochelle who snapped to my defense. "You know I've just about had it with you this morning, and if you don't shut up I'm going to shove this fork down your throat."

While I knew there was some truth to her thinly veiled threat, it actually got us all to laugh for the first time all morning. I looked up at Jordyn across the table again, and this time instead of looking away, she met my gaze with the faintest smile, just crinkling the corners of her tired eyes.

We finished up brunch with minimal drama, but as we were all getting ready to leave, I felt myself linger. I glanced over to the far wall, where Kennedy, Nicki, and Alexis were seated at a table pressed up against the windows. Morning light spilled across their table, and maybe in any other time with any other girls, it would have looked ethereal, but I knew better. I was approaching a lion's cage and sticking my hands in.

"I'll be out in a minute," I nodded at Chris before swallowing down any pride I had left and approached their table.

"Hey," I said, too aware of the gruff twinge in my voice.

Kennedy was the only one who actually looked up at me, with none of the ferocity I expected. She sighed heavily before addressing me.

"What do you want?" she sounded tired.

"Uh..." I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry...about before. I know I can be a little overprotective of Rochelle, but I do also know her better than anyone else."

Alexis looked up from her phone. "Where are you going with this, leper?"

If it wasn't directed at me, it might have been funny, even the second time she said it.

"I just want you to know that even though Rochelle can be combative when it comes to relationships, you shouldn't stop trying. I mean, if that's what you want."

Kennedy looked down into her coffee as she processed my words. "Gee thanks Dallas."

After a beat of thick silence, I contemplated just bailing, but then Kennedy looked up at me with all the ferocity I had anticipated when I first approached them.

"I suppose by sparing my feelings, you expect me to do the same for you."

"Ideally," I nodded. "But...I do also want Rochelle to be happy."

"And I want Kaia to be happy," Kennedy retorted. "She's one of my closest friends. But for some reason, any time something bad happens to her, it's always you. So forgive me for not being your biggest fan."

"Look, you don't know what happened last night, but-"

"You're right, I don't." Kennedy sighed. "I just know Kaia was uncharacteristically upset, and it was your fault."

"God only knows why Kaia is still so hung up on you," Nicki grumbled, which was swiftly met with a kick under the table from Alexis.

My heart careened into my throat, and Jordyn's words to Kaia from last night came rushing back to me in a fury. I didn't want to linger on it any longer, but the words just came lurching out of me like vomit. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kennedy rolled her eyes. "You know for someone who's supposed to be so intelligent, you're not very bright are you?"

Nicki and Alexis snickered into their hands.

"It means if you're the person Kaia seems to think you are, you'll apologize," Kennedy continued. "I mean, if you even care."

I swallowed my heart back down before it ended up on their table the next time I opened my mouth. The realization was sobering, and I muttered out a "thanks bye" before bolting out of the diner and into the crisp fall air.

Jordyn leaned against the passenger door of my car, casually twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. When she looked up at me with eyes as clear and bright as crystal, my heart sank.

I cared. Maybe too much.

"I need to talk to you," I sputtered out. "About last night, I-"

"Dallas, stop," she held her hand up. "It's fine, I'm over it."

"It's not fine," I insisted. I leaned on my car beside her, the metal body warm against my back from sitting out in the late morning sun. "I'm sorry about the things I said. I was..."

I was too anxious, too stressed, and on too many painkillers that I wasn't sure I needed. But saying that out loud wasn't something anyone wanted to hear.

"I was just not myself, and I didn't know what I was saying," I sighed out. "That's not an excuse but...I am sorry."

Jordyn delicately placed her hand on my shoulder. "Dallas, I could never stay mad at you. You know that."

I didn't really have time to process if I genuinely did know that or not, because Jordyn leaned forward on her toes and kissed me. And I kissed her back.

honey, i laugh when it sinks in
a pillar i am of pride
scarcely can speak for my thinking

dinner & diatribes / hozier

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the alternative song to this chapter is whatcha say by jason derulo, can't tell me otherwise #ifykyk

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