We move the remaining food into two packed containers, and close the rest and stack them in the corner of the table. Jasper tells me that another Year 12 will collect them and take them to the common room.
We carry a container each, and make our way around the campus, approaching groups of students sitting down. “Hey guys,” Jasper says to a group of Year 7s. “Do you want some food? We’re trying to get rid of them, so they’re only fifty cents.”
One kid pouts. “Can I have one for free? I don’t have any money.”
Jasper laughs. “Sorry. Maybe if we can’t get rid of them, we’ll come back and give them to you.”
He seems like an angel when he acts like this. Every time he smiles, I stare a bit too long. His teeth are white and even — he probably had braces as a kid — and every time he laughs, it’s soft and rich like honey.
As we walk to the oval, Jasper cranes his neck to look at the stalls.
“Checking on your girlfriend?” I ask in a neutral tone.
Jasper almost trips, and I suppress a smirk.
“I’m just checking the stalls,” he says, straightening up and frowning at me. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
I give him a long look, appraising his body. “Right. I should have figured.”
“Did you think Trinity was my girlfriend?” He can’t help himself.
“Nah, not really.”Of course not.“So it’s just a one-sided thing, huh?”
Jasper stares at me, then walks off, so fast I have to increase my speed to catch up.
“It’s cute. Your little crush,” I continue, following him.
If I had any doubt about Jasper liking Trinity, it disappears when the back of his neck flushes red. “Shut up. I don’t.”
A football flies towards me, and I dodge it, bumping into Jasper. He stiffens at the contact, then flinches away.
“Don’t touch me,” he grits out.
I roll my eyes, my annoyance flaring. Does he think Iwantto touch him?
“And I don’t like Trinity,” he adds.
“Maybe you should ask her out.”
“Shut up.” He storms across the oval.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend, Jasper?” I ask.
“None of your business.”
“A boyfriend?”
He stops walking and glares at me.
I stop walking too and keep my gaze steady. “That’s a no.”
“Just…don’t talk to me, okay?” He walks away again.
“Have you even kissed someone?”
“Of course I’ve kissed someone. I’ve kissed loads of people.”
Before I can reply, he stalks over to a group of boys with a soccer ball, and thrusts the plastic container full of baked goods into their faces. Each of the boys buys a cookie, possibly because they’re terrified of the expression on Jasper’s face.
