Chapter 7: When you’re the friend who’s always out of the loop

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Jackson is happy that Mark decided to warn him that JB and Junior might have personal history, but what does that even mean?

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On weekends when he doesn’t have to wake up early, Jackson indulges in sleeping without an alarm (the ringing of it in the morning always induces a minor bout of panic until he fully comes to his senses). Lying in bed, sunlight filtering through his curtains, mostly awake now, Jackson reaches for his phone, unplugging it from the side table where he left it to charge at night, so he can surf the internet from the comfort of his bed.

He opens up Instagram, and the first thing Jackson sees is a photo that Amber had just posted 3 minutes ago, of her and Mark grinning at the camera, skateboards in hand. [email protected], didn’t know you can skate so well!” is the caption underneath, and Jackson’s stuck by 2 thoughts at once. Why are they skating so early, and why am I not invited?

Huffing a bit, Jackson sits up on his bed, realizing it’s already 12 (which answers his first question), and decides to call Amber for an answer to his second question.

“Bro, you skate? I didn’t know, or I’ll have called you too. Come down and join us!” is Amber’s enthusiastic reply, and Jackson smiles over the phone, hurrying to wash up so he can meet Amber and Mark.

It’s technically just friends meeting up to skate, but Jackson finds himself staring at the pieces of clothing scattered on his bed, tried on and rejected, as if he is preparing for a date. Don’t think so hard about this, Jackson mentally scolds himself, and makes up his mind to just wear the first thing he grabs. It turns out to be a white tank top with navy stripes, and he finds a pair of bermudas and a thin checkered shirt to wear with it, along with a well-loved pair of Vans that he hasn’t worn in a while. Grabbing his skateboard and car keys, Jackson sets off for the short drive to the skatepark.

Amber is first to spot Jackson walking towards them, and she easily maneuvers from doing a trick to skating over to Jackson.

“Amber, what are you doing, meeting Mark on your own, eh?” Jackson wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, receiving a hit from Amber on his chest.

“Ew, bro, no offense, Mark’s cute and all, but he’s like a younger brother to me, just like you are.” Amber scrunches her face up in disgust, truly pained at the thought, and Jackson laughs even as he pouts, making a face, saying “Aw, you don’t like me?”

At a distance, Jackson sees Mark stop, finally noticing them now, and he drops his skateboard down on the hard ground, already starting to move towards Mark when he shouts “Race you there!” to Amber.

They play around for a bit, and Jackson feels sweat rolling off his back, even though he has already taken off his outer shirt. He glares at Mark and Amber, both barely perspiring even in LA’s summer heat, and he drags an arm across his forehead, wiping off the sweat, mumbling, “Why do I even sweat so much?”

Amber’s chuckle from the side lets Jackson know she’d heard, and he puts his skateboard down to zoom past her in defiance. She easily overtakes him, and Jackson doubles his efforts to cut her again. The chase quickly ends with both of them breathing hard, Jackson lying in the shade on the grass.

“It’s time for lunch already,” Amber says, as she lies down beside Jackson on the grass.

“I barely even skated,” Jackson grumbles.

“You woke up so late, that’s why,” Amber points out, waving at Mark to come over. Jackson sits up as Mark makes his way to the tree they’re under, putting his checkered shirt back on. Squinting at his phone to check the time, Jackson suddenly feels someone hug him from the back, and a wet kiss is planted on his cheek.

“Oh my god, no, you’re not Amber!” is the first thing Henry says when he lets go of Jackson, which would be hilarious if Jackson wasn’t the one assaulted by Henry, the kiss monster. Jackson scrubs his cheek from Henry’s unannounced assault, annoyed (and he wasn’t even the intended target).

Amber, who’s only sitting beside, claps both Henry and Jackson on the back as she takes in the sight of Henry, her best friend, vaguely upset that he had failed his surprise attack on Amber, and Jackson, who’s somewhat disgusted at being hugged and kissed by Henry (when he’s soaking in perspiration, nonetheless), trying not to laugh. Mark, who has just reached, doesn’t have the same courtesy as Amber, and he gives a pat on Jackson’s shoulder, teasing, “I guess you got mistaken for Amber even outside of office, huh?”

Jackson knows it’s childish, but he sticks his tongue out at Mark anyway.

Lunch with the 4 of them together is predictably loud, Jackson muses, though Mark doesn’t say much. It’s not like he really needs to, when Henry and Amber are as talkative as, if not more talkative than Jackson. After lunch, Amber and Henry excused themselves for some plans they made with other friends, and Jackson finds himself sitting at the table with only Mark. It’s sort of awkward, seeing how they’ve met (in person) only a few days ago, but somehow the silence isn’t uncomfortable.

Remembering how Mark had looked like he wanted to tell him something the other day, Jackson figures that right now is a good time to bring it up, since they’re alone, hidden by the walls of the booth from the other customers in the diner. “So, Mark… was there something you wanted to tell me the other day when you waited for me at my desk in the morning?”

Mark blinks, like he can’t remember for a while, but then he says, “Ah, that day. It’s nothing much, but I wanted to tell you that JB isn’t that bad, although he didn’t really behave very nicely to you in the meeting.” Mark lowers his eyes, and adds softly, “He kind of has the impression that you are a… flashy type of gay guy.”

The startled look on Mark’s face when Jackson laughs makes him crack up even harder, but he supposes JB isn’t technically wrong. When he tells Mark that, the other barely cracks a smile, only giving a shrug, and Jackson can’t help but feel like there is more that Mark wants to say, but isn’t telling.

“So, is that all you wanted to tell me?” Jackson probes, leaning back in his sea