#yes my water heater recently broke and its been a day or two since i washed my hair and im not really liking how i feel rn

[funky-dealer]

physically i feel pretty disgusting. if only water heaters werent a billion dollars

[writethehousedown]

umbrella. (Jackie/Jan) -- meggie

A/N: Hello hi. This is from the teachers!AU universe, but it focuses on two of the students instead. (A concept.) Y’all know I’m in love with Jan by now, so of course, I was going to include her. This is also a response to a prompt I got a couple of weeks ago from an Anon (Jackie/Jan, “let me take you home”).

Thank you, Mia, for looking over this, and THANK YOU, MAC, for my Cameo from Jan!!! It was exactly what I needed for inspiration for life. Love you both big big big.

Let me know what you think! I’m @janssports

Jan is walking home from school in the rain when it finally happens.

Her umbrella has been on its last legs for some time now, the metal skeleton underbelly warped just enough to make it a little bit floppy on the backside, but Jan doesn’t care, because it’s her favorite umbrella and it was the last gift she got from her grandmother before she passed five years ago and she’s been hesitant to replace it because that would feel like replacing Nanny and Jan isn’t quite ready to do that yet.

Anyway.

But she’s walking home from school, purple polka dotted umbrella held aloft, every once in a while tilting her head up to the sky to let the drops of moisture fall on her skin when there’s a gust of wind that catches her umbrella in just the wrong way and the whole thing collapses on her head.

“Well, fuck,” she mutters, the curse word heavy and unfamiliar in her mouth. It’s pouring now, and she’s been standing there, contemplating the demise of her poor umbrella for a mere 20 seconds and she’s already soaked. And she still has quite a way to go until she gets home.

She could have ridden the bus, like she usually does on rainy days, but it had just been sprinkling when school let out, and sometimes she likes to walk in the light rain; it clears her head, letting her recenter after her day at school. Especially with her umbrella from Nanny in her hands. It’s almost like they’re having a conversation. Almost like she can hear the woman’s voice in her head giving her advice, telling her what she needs to know.

“Guess that’s over now.” Jan twists the umbrella in her hand, looking for any redemptive qualities although she knows that it’s too far gone to be saved. She has other umbrellas: her parents have bought her umbrellas for the last two Christmases, ever since her cousin Rose stepped on the umbrella and caused the first flaw. But this one feels special, sentimental. She can’t just give up on it.

She trudges on, the rain cold as it trickles down her back in rivulets, and Jan shudders a little. The light cardigan she’d wrapped herself in before leaving the house this morning is doing very little to keep her warm now. It doesn’t wick the water away from her skin at all; it feels something like wearing a wet towel draped over her shoulders.

She’s miserable, on the verge of tears, and positive that all the homework in her bag is going to be ruined when a silver car slows on the road beside her.

Jan puts her head down and keeps walking. This isn’t the first time a creepy guy has stopped and asked to give her a ride, and while she may look naive and dumb, she listens to far too many true crime podcasts to fall for that helpful nice guy nonsense.

“Hey, Jan!” The voice is female and almost drowned out by the driving rain, but she ignores it just the same. So what if they know her name?

“You’re Jan, right?” The voice calls to her again, and this time (mostly out of curiosity), Jan turns her head to look.

“Hey!” Jackie Cox waves her over upon making eye contact. “Oh my god, girl, get in the car. It’s pouring!”

Jan knows Jackie. Well. She doesn’t know her, but she knows of her. (She’s always admired her a little.) Plus Brianna is friends with Jackie (as vice president, Jackie is heir apparent to Brianna’s student body presidency) and Jan and Brianna are close. So she guesses that makes her friends by proxy with Jackie, which is more than reason enough for Jan to consider accepting a ride.

She must be hesitating for far too long because Jackie waves to her again. “Come on. Let me take you home?”

The facts were, as Jan saw them, fairly straight forward: Jackie was probably not a serial killer. If she was, then she managed to organize her day in a way that Jan envied, because not only was Jackie involved in student council, but she also started on the girls’ lacrosse team, served as secretary of the history club, and had the highest grade point average in the junior class.

So yes. Jan knew Jackie, admired her even, and if Brianna trusted her, it was probably okay for Jan to do the same.

So she quirks her lips to the side, shakes out her stringy, sopping hair, and jogs to the side of the car.

Once she’s settled, Jan shoves her poor broken umbrella in the side pocket of her backpack and studies the interior of the car. It’s pristine, as she would have guessed. Jackie is not a messy kind of person; she’s meticulous and careful and perfect. It’s another reason Jan has always been a little bit fascinated with her. Jackie is, truly, everything Jan wishes she was.

“Oh, here.” Jackie reaches over to the center console and twists knobs until the heat blasts on Jan’s feet. “God, you must be freezing. What are you doing walking in this mess?”

“My umbrella broke,” Jan offers feebly. “And I kind of didn’t know how to react. I…” She sighs. “It’s dumb, and it’s just an umbrella, but it means a lot.”

Jackie nods, but doesn’t look convinced. “Just tell me where I’m going, okay?”

“Straight until Sinclair,” Jan says, tucking her hands under her thighs. “Your car’s going to be trashed. I’m so sorry.”

Jackie brushes her off with a wave of her hand. “No biggie. Besides, I’d rather have a messy car than have you get pneumonia out there. What are you doing walking in all this rain?”

Jan shrugs. “I like walking. Gives me time to think. Plus it’s good exercise. Good for the lung capacity.” She hates herself in this instant. Wishes she could take back everything she’s said since Jackie picked her up.

“Oh yeah!” Jackie nods. “You’re really into show choir, aren’t you? Like the main soloist or whatever.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jan’s cheeks burn hot and she ducks her head. “I mean, we don’t really have a ‘main soloist,’ but Ms. Act has been really nice to give me some solos this year.”

“Most solos from what I’ve heard,” Jackie tacks on quickly. “But anyway.” 

“Yeah.” 

Jan wonders for a brief moment how exactly Jackie knows that she’s been given more than one solo this year. Logically, she just assumes that Brianna has mentioned it. But the girl never gives Jan information about Jackie or Kameron or really any of her other friends that Jan doesn’t know very well. 

“So where am I going now?”

Lost in her thoughts, Jan has completely missed the fact that they’ve turned onto Sinclair, so she gestures wildly with her right hand. “Just straight. I live off Upton, so it’s a few more blocks.”

Jackie snickers. “Upton and Sinclair.”

“Yeah, I know.” She rolls her eyes. “I think that’s half the reason my dad bought the house in the first place. He calls the house The Jungle, which is just… It’s so stupid.” Why is she still talking?

“No!” Jackie insists. “I think it’s cute.”

Silence descends on them once more, and Jan watches house after house pass by, still wondering how exactly Jan knows things about her.

You’ll never find out until you just ask, she practically hears her nanny’s voice in her head.

So despite her instincts to just shut the hell up, Jan clears her throat. “You, umm. You pay attention to the show choir? I thought most people just made fun of us.”

Jackie’s mouth falls open. “Oh my god, why? That’s awful.”

Jan shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like we’re that good.”

“Now that Ms. Act’s taken over, you guys are pretty good,” the other girl says. “And since you started getting the solos.”

Jan blushes again, tells herself it’s just the blast of the car’s heater, and not the way that Jackie keeps looking over at her and smiling that tiny, genuine smile that kind of makes Jan burn hot all over.

It’s definitely the heater.

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “I’m the fourth house on the left,” she mutters quietly, pointing at the towering brick structure as the car pulls closer.

Jackie drives around the cul-de-sac and parks just in front of Jan’s house. “Here you go,” she says brightly. “Still damp, but… Maybe not as wet as you would have been.”

Jan blushes harder and reaches for the door handle. “Thank you,” she says sincerely. “Seriously. I can’t imagine what that walk would have been like if you hadn’t come along.”

“Wet,” Jackie deadpans, then smiles that radiant, lovely grin over at her. 

Jan giggles. “You’re right. Well. Thanks again.” She gathers her backpack, tugs on the handle, and has just stepped onto the sidewalk after closing the door when she hears the power window roll down.

“I’ll see you around school, yeah?” Jackie asks, her voice full of optimism and (Jan could totally be misreading this) hope. (She thinks it’s hope. It really sounds like hope. She really hopes it’s hope.)

“I’d love that,” Jan says and smiles.

She stands on the stoop and watches the tail lights of the car until they disappear from view.

***

Jackie’s waiting for Jan at her locker between second and third period the next morning, a pale purple gift bag dangling from her hand.

“Hey!” She waves as she steps aside, allowing Jan access to her locker. “Sorry, god, this is really creepy. It really wasn’t this creepy when I thought it out in my head.”

Jan shakes her head. “It’s not creepy. I guess Brianna told you where my locker was?”

“Correct,” Jan says. “I just wanted to give you this.” She holds out the bag to Jan and bounces a little.

Jan pulls the bag open and glances inside. It’s her broken umbrella. But it looks slightly… Less broken.

“Did you fix it?” Jan asks incredulously. “I thought it was totally wrecked.”

Jackie nods. “Well, it was a challenge. But my mom helped me. She’s pretty handy. I don’t know. I found it in my car, noticed it was broken and… It seemed like it was really important to you.”

“It is.” Jan lunges forward and captures Jackie in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“No biggie.” Jackie shrugs. “Really. It was a pleasure.”

Jan could be imagining it, but she could swear that Jackie blushes a little as she smiles at her.