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Chapter Text

Joan remembered the feeling of her heart falling to her stomach, the feeling of having multiple eyes burn through her head, she's memorized this moment crystal clear. Her face was scorching and red and she wanted to disappear from the face of the earth. The frigid room seemed to be boiling hot as she lay there frozen, blankets pulled up to her pale, bare chest. It seems as if JFK didn't mind being caught, he was relaxed and laid back, like he didn't just blow her back out and get caught by the whole high school. She felt like she had betrayed everyone, even one of her enemies, Cleo. The feeling of guilt dug through her body, remembering everyone’s facial expressions as they saw her half naked with the popular himbo. Soon after prom, Joan left early without a trace, her eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying so much. She didn't know whether to date JFK or not, to drop out of high school to escape the embarassment, or try to return to her normal life.

She threw away her prom dress and heels, in hope of letting everything slip that had occurred that night. Going to school the next day was rough, a storm of whispers and gossip was spread around her as she traversed the long corridors. A swirl of nausea and anxiety filled her body as she walked in her first-period class. She sat in the back of the classroom and put her head down on the cool desk, ignoring the loud voices around her talking about JFK and her love situation.

"Who would have known Joan would have sex with JFK?"

"He has a thing for picking up girls and ruining their lives, I almost feel.. bad."

"Joan and JFK huh, I knew I should have gone to prom!" She sighed deeply, looking out the window next to her, and covered her ears. She felt a chair scrape against the cold floor next to her, figuring out it was Cleo. She already had to deal with her this morning considering she still lives with her due to her house burning down a while back. She was awfully quiet, in a way she missed her rude remarks but she could not find herself to say anything. Cleo glanced over at her, watching her fix her dark eyeliner and her soft silky hair.

"So you think it was okay to hook up with my ex?" Cleo spoke, rubbing her lips together and applying more red lipstick. “I was drunk,” Joan replied, knowing damn well she was fully sober, the night was just filled with bad decision-making. “Okay well, you might want to sleep with one eye open, I might gut you out in your sleep, Of Arc.” She gave Joan a shit-eating grin before returning to her daily makeup routine."Also, you suck at lying." Joan ignored her and returned to her people-watching. A loud agonizing ring roared through her ears, signaling that classes were going to begin. The class quieted down as Mr. Sheepman started his lecture on getting focused on final exams. Joan kept her head down, maybe this wasn’t the worst of what could conspire from the night before. She could handle people talking shit about her.

She heard a loud ding from her phone and she opened it reluctantly, Email from paul_reveer3? She opened the email and felt tears prick at her eyes once again. The attachment connected to the message was a picture of her and JFK in bed, and it was sent to the whole school. Her heart threatened to jump out of her chest as she turned off her phone, hearing other people’s phone’s going off inside of the classroom. Her vision slowly began disfigured as familiar voices rushed through her ears, hearing unnerving giggles.

“Oh my..”

“Wow, so the rumors are true.”

The acquainted feeling of having everyones eyes on her made her sick. The room felt stuffy as her body went numb, and the laughing around her increasingly got louder, she clutched at her red hair and took in a couple staggered breaths. She shot up quickly and rushed out of the room, ignoring the teacher’s attempting to call her back into class. She ran mindlessly, unknowingly to where she was going to go, she had no one to turn back to, even Abe ignored her in the hallways. Hell, it seemed JFK moved on despite feeling like she had a real connection between each other. She slammed open a bathroom stall, pulling a cigarette out of her bra and fought the shakiness her hands had. Joan frantically flicked the small lighter, the flame going out every time. Damn it Joan, get yourself together. When the cigarette finally lit, she inhaled deeply, regretting it soon after. She coughed harshly, leaning on the bathroom stall to keep herself from fainting

“What the hell am I gonna do..” She wept, curling into a ball, breathing raggedly as she felt bile sit in the back of her throat. She felt sticky and her mouth went dry, taking another hit from her cigarette. I’m the joke of the school, I might as well kill myself. I hate this. She sobbed harshly into her hands, unable to hear the door opening to the restroom.

“Joan?” It was a masculine voice with a thick boston accent. She looked underneath the stall and remembered the same pair of shoes and khakis. She covered her mouth, trying to hold in her sobs, hiccuping uncontrollably from crying. “I er, know its you, saw ya run in here. Cmon Joanie, open up..”

“Get out!! You’re not even supposed to be in here!” Joan’s voice cracked, as she inhaled, putting the cigarette to her mouth. She blew the smoke in front of her, closing her eyes, hoping that he would get the hint.

“Listen I just wanna talk about er, last night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, my life is fucked over and all people see me as a slut.” Joan brushed her hair with her fingers, twirling it. 

“I know, there’s uh, nothing I can do to fix this, but er, lemme take ya on a date, I’ll pay for everything.” JFK, adjusted the collar of his shirt nervously, looking at Joan’s combat boots from the bottom of the pink stall. “I won't leave ya alone till you let me try to fix some of this.” He crossed his arms across his broad chest, leaning against the tile of the restroom wall.

“If it’ll make you leave me alone. Sure.” Joan pushed open the stall, looking up at JFK and quickly brushed passed him to fix herself up in the mirror.

“Ya know, smoking is bad for you..”

“Shut it Kennedy.” She washed off the smudged mascara from her face, her eyes were puffy and red. Jfk approached her from behind, placing his large hand on her shoulder. “Don’t touch me.” He flinched, pulling away. Joan observed his facial expression in the mirror. In a way he looked like he had pitied her, he hadn’t made a dirty joke the whole time they’ve talked. His eyes were droopy as always and she remembered something she missed. His cute brown freckles that were sprawled across his face, that reached all the way down to his lower back. A piece of her was still left with him, and she hated it.

“After school meet me at my house. It’ll be discreet.” Jfk looked down at the smaller girl, eyes locking with her dark brown eyes. Joan just nodded and walked out of the restroom, shivering from the conversation she just had. Do I love him? No he’s only using me for sex, Abe mentioned this before, I should trust him.

Chapter Text

Joan’s head filled with pessimistic thoughts throughout the rest of the day. In a way she couldn’t forget about what JFK suggested, should she just stay home or go which could lead to life-changing events? She sat in her room, staring blankly at the ugly pink walls Cleo painted. She felt a vibration from her back pocket as she pulled out her phone to see several messages from JFK.

‘I’m home if you wanna drop by’
‘If you’re comfortable with that’
‘I ordered pizza… :D’

Joan wasn’t comfortable, but something was nagging at her to go see him, to figure out what he sought from her. She didn’t bother to reply as she got up to get ready to leave. Cleo might kill her for seeing her ex again but she could handle the yelling when she returns home. Before walking out of her residence she checked on Toots, making sure he wasn’t making tomato soup with bleach again.

"I'm heading out, I'll be back in a bit." She grabbed her house keys, playing with them in her hands.

"Alright Joanie, be back before dinner, I'm making lasagna!" Toots hummed as he mixed an assortment of ingredients in a wooden bowl.

"Okay." She shut the door behind her, locking it.

JFK lived several blocks down, so it was only a ten-minute walk, that would give Joan enough to think. She pondered over the memories of some of the popular girls eyeing her as she strolled down the long corridors of her high school. Marilyn Monroe was one of the ones she tended to avoid, JFK had been with her on and off before Cleo came along. She was pretty, she barely had any flaws and she was just his type. A sense of insecurity washed over Joan, but why?

She arrived at his house and stood still in her tracks. Joan hesitantly brought her knuckle up to the door before knocking on it quietly. She heard shuffling inside the house as the door handle fumbled.

“Ah, Joan you’re here!” JFK greeted her with a big wide smile. He was wearing a loose T-shirt along with some black sweatpants. Something about him made her swoon again as she made eye contact with his cerulean eyes. He had a few acne scars along with many freckles painted along his eye-catching face. That’s what Joan missed from prom night. She cleared her throat and pushed past JFK, putting on her usual facade.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She crossed her arms on top of her chest, watching him lock the door behind himself and show her to his room upstairs. “No funny business.”

“I know, I know.” He opened the door to his room. There were medals and trophies sprawled all across his room and surprisingly it smelled pretty nice, like clean laundry. His bed was messily made and there was a basket of clothes in the corner. There were a couple of pictures of him and his friends that were set up right on his nightstand along with some mints and condoms. He sat on his bed, patting the spot next to him, indicating for Joan to sit next to him. “Grab a slice of pizza if you want, hope you don’t mind pineapple.”

“God, you’re a freak, eating pineapples on pizza,” Joan replied, picking up a slice of pizza and placing it on a styrofoam plate, picking off the fruit. 

“Not my fault you don’t have good taste.” He joked taking a bite of his pizza, and turning on the tv for background noise while they spoke. An awkward atmosphere made the room feel uneasy, it was almost like Joan couldn’t breathe or do anything without thinking twice. “Listen, I wanna apologize for prom night.” JFK started, placing his food back down on his plate as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Also, I didn’t wanna take ya anywhere public just in case, you know..”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, we had sex and we go back to our normal lives.” Joan took in a deep breath, looking away from him. “It wasn’t important, it was only a one-time thing.” Her words made JFK’s heart shatter a bit, he had felt a small connection between the both of them, but he wanted to respect her decision. He paused from eating as he looked down, biting the inside of his lip.

“Right.” He croaked, voice cracking slightly. “Well uh, if you change your mind I have a track meet next week if you wanna stop by, I’ll be doing long distance.” Joan nodded in response. “Er uh, I’d really appreciate it, ya know? Like uh, cheering.” It was still very quiet besides the tv in the room. Joan cringed at their conversation, fidgeting with her long nails.

“Maybe.” She muttered, twirling the ends of her magenta hair. “Okay well, I better get going before Toots starts to worry about me.” She pulled out an excuse from the back of her mind as she hopped up from his bed and she put on her black jacket, zipping it up halfway.

“Oh okay,” JFK’s expression looked depressing. Geez, he looks like a sad puppy. “Let me uh, walk you out.” He stood up and walked in front of Joan, leading her downstairs and to the front door. “Could I ask for one more thing..?” He inquired.

“Hm?”

 “Could I,” he swallowed, looking away from the shorter girl. “Could I have a hug before ya go, sure you can ignore me in public but I liked this little stay-at-home date thing we did.” He stammered a bit, leaning on the wall next to him.

“Sure..” Joan hesitantly wrapped her arms around his torso as he did the same. If she didn’t know any better she would have thought he tried to strangle her. They both broke apart from the hug and gazed into each other's eyes. Her heart fluttered as her face became warm, a similar feeling she’s felt before while she reminisced her cerulean eyes, once again.

Chapter Text

Gears shifted in Joan’s head as the week passed by, she was still processing over what happened at JFK’s house. The image of his bright blue eyes was replaying over and over, his voice on repeat, ringing through her ears. Additionally, whenever she went to the class period she shared with JFK, everything he did, and she made a note of it. Whether it’s him tapping his pencil on his soft pink lips, or him just speaking to his friends. Something about him drew her in, it was like she was under some kind of spell. Hell, she used to make fun of people like him with Abe and Gandhi, but now she was practically drooling over the jock.

Joan rested her cheek on her desk, ignoring Cleo complaining about problems she’s been facing. She stared at the blinding pink wall in front of her. It just so happened to be right after school and she was debating whether or not she should go to that dumb track meet. It was scalding outside anyways.

“I can’t believe they went out of business, I mean, it is the best lipstick.” Cleo drew on her lips with a dark red lip liner. “Are you even listening?” Cleo flicked the back of Joan’s head, earning a grunt from her. She turned around, looking at the slightly taller girl. Her makeup was way more detailed than usual. Oh, I forgot she’s a cheerleader. “Do I look okay? I mean I do every day, I just want to hear you call me pretty.” She brushed her long, white nails through her jet-black hair, smiling down at Joan.

“All that makeup is gonna melt off in the heat,” Joan replied, sitting up from her slumped position. “You look fine.” Cleo huffed, turning around to slip on her short orange cheer skirt. 

“Abe is gonna love this outfit..” she grinned happily, picking up a bag that rested in the corner of her room. “Are you going?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, you have five minutes to get ready. I’ll drive you there,” she exited the room, her footsteps getting quiet as she walked away. Joan took in a deep breath, looking inside her closet to find something cool to wear to the event. She ended up wearing a regular white t-shirt, along with some shorts and some sneakers. She looked at herself in the mirror, looking at her basic outfit. She tugged at her choker uncomfortably, putting her phone in her pocket. Good enough .

The ride to the school was short, her face grimaced and she felt like she was back in hell again.

Hell was what she felt like. Joan sat kind of in the middle of everyone, far enough from the band and the loud student section. Everything felt overwhelming, especially since the earth felt like it was boiling. If she didn’t have a sunburn before, she sure did now. Her dark eyes scanned the area and she finally locked her attention on the boy she was attracted to. JFK and his team were stretching, hopefully, she’d be able to see him before the race. She pushed away the thought of Cleo beating her ass tonight for talking to her ex.

Joan headed down the bleachers, the metal clanging beneath her shoes. She stood by the side, waving JFK over once he’d finished up his stretching. She bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling, she was captivated by his arm muscles being put on display due to his tank top. It clung onto him just enough to show his pecs, and just this once, she was grateful for the scorching hot sun. His sweat glazed him perfectly, despite not even running yet, his caramel hair was now almost like a hickory brown color as it clung to his forehead. His pale skin was also flushed from the weather. 

Joan felt like she was melting, mentally, no wonder Cleo dated him.

“Didja come to see me?” JFK panted a bit, quickly gathering his composure.

“Ye-yeah, you look uh..” Joan fumbled on her words, looking away. “Good luck out there.”

JFK had a shit-eating grin, noticing Joan getting hot and bothered. 

“Thanks, Joan, I’ll uh, need it.” He placed his large hand on her shoulder, studying her face.

“No problem,” she turned away, then glanced back. “Make sure you drink plenty of water too, this heat is no joke.” She spoke in a strict tone and managed to lock eyes with the tall boy.

“Gotcha.” He flashed her a thumbs-up before heading back to talk to his coach. Joan sat where she had put her stuff beforehand, watching the cheerleaders pull off cool stunts. Suddenly she felt someone’s eyes burn into her head. She glanced over to the left to see Cleo staring dead at her, which sent a shiver up her spine. She might try to strangle me in my sleep again…

After scrolling through social media for a bit she looked up, noticing the long-distance part of the team lining up on the sidelines. Butterflies were in her stomach as she watched them get ready, gandering at JFK. In comparison to earlier, he was glowing a vibrant red and looked tired despite not racing beforehand. Joan stood up, her heart pounding in her chest. The gun was fired, and the group of competitors ran as quickly as possible, Joan’s eyebrows raised at their impressive speed.

JFK was in the lead till he slowly lost his pace, which was unusual, he should have still remained in his position as he’s done before in several races, hell, the school they were up against wasn’t even that good. He became sluggish, his legs slowing down as he tried to reach the finish line. It was several yards away but seemed so far. He pushed himself, a burst of speed coursing through his body as he narrowly wins first place, stumbling and running off to the side, doubling over. His vision blurred as he struggled with his labored breathing and he smiled at his teammates cheering for him. Muffled voices filled his ears as the corners of his eyes were plagued with darkness and he felt his body become heavy and unresponsive.

Joan’s heart sank to her stomach as she rushed down the bleachers, almost falling over as she approached the unconscious boy. She surveyed his body, his breathing was shallow and his pulse was irregular. 

“Probably fainted from the heat..” Joan spoke to his coach, looking up from her position. “Let’s move him somewhere cool, the sun isn’t helping.” She frowned, moving the hair that stuck to his forehead.

A few hours passed by and Joan found herself sitting inside JFK’s bedroom again, multiple fans blowing onto him as she replaced a cool cloth onto his head every now and then. He was shirtless and only in a pair of shorts, allowing Joan to have a full view of his body, she could now analyze him completely unlike prom night. Freckles were dusted all over his abs and his back, a beautiful deep almond color. She gawked over him, rubbing his toned arm.

She was stuck in another risky situation with JFK, who would’ve thought that would happen again? 

Her heart ached as she brought her lips to his warm forehead, placing her slender hand on the back of his head. He stirred a bit, making Joan let go and look away, trying to appear as if she was distracted. A deep groan came from JFK and he brought his hands to his head.

“You feel okay, Kennedy?” She glanced over at him as he rubbed his eyes.

“Head hurts..” he mumbled, leaning into her side, making her heart race.

“There’s some water on your nightstand, take a couple of baby sips.”

“M’ not thirsty.”

She gave him a look that could kill and his eyes widened as he hastily grabbed his water bottle, taking several sips. He looked down at himself, realization coming to him.

“Did we uh..” He raised his eyebrow and smirked placing her hand in his.

“No, you passed out like an idiot,” Joan replied, earning a shocked expression from JFK. “You won the race though, first place. I’m..” She paused, her words stuck in her throat as she made eye contact with his dopey blue eyes. “I’m proud of you. But you should have drank more water, this could have been worse.”

“Awwe, you were worried about me!!”

“I’ll leave if you don’t shut up,” Joan snapped.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Silence filled the atmosphere besides the loud noise that the loud fans that were next to his bed.

“You need anything? Painkillers, something to eat?” Joan offered.

“Just uh, stay with me for a bit, please,” JFK inquired.

“Sure thing.”

The rest of the afternoon they spent watching old movies together, JFK snuggled close to Joan’s side, enjoying her presence. Joan snaked her arm around his torso, hugging him close to her.

Chapter Text

Joan’s heart soon fell into the hands of the jock, she found herself missing his texts, missing his scent, wanting to feel his body pressed against hers. However, something was nagging her in the back of her head. A gnawing feeling, a feeling of self-doubt. Was it love or lust? Wouldn’t it be okay to have a mix of both? W ill he completely ignore my feelings just as Abe did? No JFK has some sense, doesn’t he? Joan shook her head. He isn’t too smart considering he is a himbo. Or is it all an act to pick up girls? This is ridiculous.

Joan took in a deep breath, shooting a text to JFK, it was early in the morning and school had just begun. She needed to get this sorted out, her mind was all jumbled up.

‘Hey, can I meet you in your car after school?’

‘Ofc, see you there joanie!’

Joanie, that’s new.

The next few hours passed by painfully slowly, but gave Joan some time to think about what she wanted to say without sounding like a jerk (she does anyway). Her nails were short and uneven due to her anxious nail biting. Cleo was going to get onto her ass when she arrived home.

When the final bell rang, Joan waited till most of the students left, noticing JFK in his obnoxious red convertible. The top of the car was down, allowing the sun to bake him as his body gradually turned pink rather than a pretty tan color. He was combing his hair, checking himself in the mirror. He sure was a sight, and Joan was head over heels for him. Joan’s boots clicked against the hot pavement, her heart began to pound against her ribs as she approached the passenger door.

“You uh, wanted to talk?” JFK grinned, putting his comb into his glove compartment. Joan opened the car door and sat down silently. “Is this okay, even with the windows rolled down and everything?” JFK asked, noticing how unsettling Joan looked.

“Just put the top back on the car,” Joan responded, holding her black backpack tight against her chest, she didn’t even bother to look at JFK. He closed the top of the car, turning his attention to Joan. He gave her an encouraging look for her to speak. “What’s this thing between us? I just feel perplexed.”

“Whatever you uh, want it to be, Joanie.”

“Nono, tell me and be honest. I genuinely can’t tell if..” Joan paused as she felt a frog appear in the back of her throat as she bit her tongue.

“If what?” JFK crossed his arms across his broad chest.

“I dunno, I’d love to date you but..” She felt nauseous about telling the truth.

“But?” JFK’s bright eyes seemed to pierce through her soul. His soft expression was filled with curiosity, his head was slightly tilted.

“I’m afraid,” Joan’s voice staggered.

“I don’t bite,” JFK swiftly replied.

“I know, it’s just my experience with previous relationships.” In a way, she didn’t lie, but it was just another excuse to cover up how she felt. She frowned, breaking eye contact. JFK’s eyes squinted.

“Mhm.”

The car was hushed, Joan was sure she could hear her pulse in her ears.

“I don’t want to continue this if it isn’t serious,” It finally came out and a huge weight was taken off of her chest.

“I’m a better person Joan if this is what this is about,” He began. “ I’m not quite sure how to prove it to you. But I like you but you gotta trust me, what's holding ya back?” JFK inquired.

“You JFK, I’m afraid you’ll use me or something,” Words rolled out of her mouth, unable to hold back. She analyzed the way his face contorted, the way his eyebrows scrunched together, and the corners of his mouth turning into a frown

“Oh,” He turned around, breaking eye contact. “That’s how you see me.”

“I mean, I-”

“I’ve changed.” He retorted.

“Oh yeah, what about a week ago?” Joan scoffed, her brain reminding her of a blissful, yet calamitous night.

“I had sex with you because I love you,” JFK gripped his leather steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. 

“Then I bet you love Catherine The Great and Marie Antionette the same way then.” Joan snapped, quickly opening the car door and slamming it behind her. She was sure her face was red because of her fiery anger coursing through her body. She tuned out JFK’s pleas offering her a ride home. She slung her backpack over her shoulder, quickening her pace to get away from his candy-red vehicle.

JFK rubbed his face from the uneasy interaction he just had, a tightness built in his chest along with a distasteful feeling. He hit his head on his steering wheel, flinching when he accidentally made it honk. Joan was different, there was something about her that stood out from the multiple girls he’s had relationships with. He leaned back, revving up his car and listening to its roar before driving to the track field for practice.

Joan flopped onto her top bunk, letting hot tears flow down her cheeks. She stared up at her popcorn ceiling, sniffling now and then. A loud creaking sound came from her bedroom, she peered over at the source of the sound, noting the familiar curvy figure in the doorway. Cleo was giggling over the phone, holding it close to her ear as she sat down at her vanity, removing her makeup for the day. Joan rolled over to her side, facing the wall. 

“God, it’s crying again. I’ll call you later,” Cleo’s voice abruptly ended and she turned her focus onto her step-sister.

“What’s wrong with you now?” Cleo asked while filing her nails.

“Nothing…”

“God, you’re an awful liar.” She groaned with annoyance, climbing up to Joan’s top bunk and sitting at the foot of her bed, holding her legs to her chest. “As much as I hate you, I don’t want you sulking in my room.”

“I think I may be the problem, Cleo.” Joan began to vent, sitting up to look at Cleo. “I’ve been so insecure because of my experience with guys who have hurt me. I can’t help but be so afraid.” Joan cowered a bit, rubbing her red swollen eyes from crying. Cleo shifted over to her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Relationships can be daunting,” Cleo closed her eyes. “You don’t need to rush into a relationship, try taking it slow, and I know it’s hard considering you’re a big loser. Focus on working on yourself, and when you need comfort, turn to JFK for reassurance, he’s a great guy besides his obsession with sex.” She shared her knowledge from her past relationship down to Joan.

“Why are you being so nice? I thought you loathed the idea of me dating your ex.” Joan queried.

“Sure I hate it but what I despise even more is seeing you upset.” Cleo smiled, patting the red-heads back and climbing down to her bottom bunk. Joan pulled up her blankets to her chest, not realizing how exhausting crying could be. She closed her eyes and felt herself fall asleep.

She regretted taking that nap. When she woke up she was covered in sweat, her phone was about to die, and she hadn’t eaten in a while, which was normal for after-school naps. She groaned groggily, looking at the multiple notifications on her phone. She felt her heart drop, seeing the same name repeatedly popping up.

“I’ve gotta fix this..”

It was raining buckets when track practice ended for JFK, he had given up hope trying to get a response from Joan. His best friend, Ponce had been to distract him the whole time at practice from his girl problems, noticing he wasn’t putting enough effort as he usually does. He didn’t even want to lift weights, so Ponce took up the responsibility to attempt to cheer his best friend up.

“It’s okay to be single JFK, you do know that.” Ponce hopped into JFK’s car from the rain, grinning at him. “You don’t need a girl to make you happy.” Ponce’s calming voice flowed through JFK’s ears. JFK looked at himself in the mirror, several water droplets were sitting on the top of his brunette hair that hadn’t soaked in yet. He was sweaty too from working so hard, he just wanted to go home and go to bed.

“Yeah, thanks Poncey.” He flashed a smile at his best friend, watching him leave his car.

“Call me if you need anything.”

The drive home was loud, mentally. He could not stop overthinking, all of his self-doubt piled onto him at once. His driving soon became reckless, accidentally hitting a curb and not being able to pay attention to the road. His eyes squinted as he passed a cardboard box, turning his head to the trash in the road he swerved from an oncoming car. His heart jumps out of his chest as he pulls over to clear his mind. He pulled out his umbrella and stood in the cold rain. He eyed the box several yards from where he was, walking up to it cautiously. He peeked in the box, seeing a small black, white, and orange ball, soaking wet. His heartstrings were pulled at as he picked up the small kitten, listening to it yowl at the sudden movement.

“I gotcha,” he spoke to the small cat, heading to his car. Who would do such a thing? He slipped off his letterman jacket and placed it on the seat next to him, setting the tiny kitten on top of it. He would have probably called Joan and asked for advice if it wasn’t for them being in a predicament. He started up his car, driving off of the shoulder of the road, and carefully drove home, occasionally glancing from the dark road and to the kitten that was curled up in a ball, nestled into his jacket.

JFK knew it was probably a bad idea, but he let the kitten sleep in his bed. He was face to face with the kitten, the room was dim and quiet besides the occasional thunder roaring its way through his humble home. The kitten had soft, pretty eyes, a dark, umber color, similar to Joan’s. It couldn’t be older than six weeks, its eyes were developing their own color rather than the foggy blue color most newborns have, and it was energetic. JFK, lifted the cat, looking up at it, grinning happily.

“You are too cute..” JFK placed the small animal onto his chest, rubbing its head with his large index finger. “Too bad I uh, can’t take care of ya, I’ve gotta find you a home.” A loud muffled knocking sound echoed through his walls. He would have ignored it if it wasn’t for his foster dads being out of the house. His footsteps padded down his stairs quickly as he fumbled to open the door.

His eyes widened, mouth slightly agape at the sight outside of his door frame. Joan. Similar to when they first began to talk, she was soaking wet, her red hair was a sangria color, and her clothes stuck to her skin.

“Didn’t check the forecast before I left.”

“I can tell.”

Luckily, the pouring rain somewhat helped with the awkward atmosphere.

“Come in.”

He closed the door behind her, rushing to go to his laundry room to grab a fresh towel for her. Joan clutched at her sides, standing by the entrance of the house to prevent herself from making his house soaking wet.

“Here,” JFK handed her the fluffy white towel.

“Thanks, listen I’m not mad at you in any shape or form,” Joan patted the towel on her hair, allowing it to soak up the water. “If anything it’s me, it’s my insecurities, Kennedy.” She placed the towel down beside JFK, sitting on it. “I apologize for causing all this conflict, I’m working on it.” She looked down at her lap, guilty.

“I understand.” There was something friendly about his tone, he wasn’t upset or anything. Maybe he was just desensitized from his past relationships, he was probably used to being in arguments. “Please just uh,” he paused, biting the inside of his mouth as he zoned out. “Talk to me if you’re uh, feeling self-conscious.” He was still zoned out, staring right ahead of him. Joan scooted closer to him, tangling her smaller fingers with his.

“You okay?” She asked, in a comforting tone.

“Yeah.” He blinks, looking down at the goth girl. “Here, come up to my room to get some clothes, you’ll catch a cold.” JFK stretched and offered a hand to help Joan up. When he was heading upstairs, he heard high-pitched mewling and scratching on his door. “Oh yeah, I er uh, picked up a kitten from the side of the road, she’s cute.” He slowly turned the doorknob, opening the door as the small kitten darted out from underneath him, sniffing Joan. She smiled, picking the tiny creature up.

“Didn’t know you were a cat person.” She scratched the cat’s chin, listening to it purr. JFK placed some pajama pants and an old t-shirt on his bed.

“You can change in my bathroom.” He took the kitten, placing it on his bed as he watched Joan go into his bathroom. He sighed, feeling a sense of relief that he had made up with Joan. Maybe I care more about her than I realize. He watched the kitten curl up on his toned stomach, closing its eyes. He felt a dip in his mattress, looking over to his left he made eye contact with Joan.

“You want her? I’m afraid I can’t take care of her because I’ll be too busy.” JFK handed the kitten over to Joan, watching her nuzzle it with her nose.

“Cats are independent, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Joan rolled over onto her belly, playing with the cat with a string. “Plus I’m allergic.”

“Yeah, I wish you told me this earlier..” JFK scolded her, taking the kitten away and placing it by his side.

“I’ll be fi-” A sneeze interrupted her. “Fine.”

“No, you won't,” He spoke in a strict tone, almost like a parent, his eyebrows furrowed a bit.

“Kennedy, I’ll be okay I promise.” She reached over for the cat, accepting defeat when he raised it into the air out of her reach.

“Yeah till your throat swells up and you die.” He joked, placing the kitten onto the floor, watching it nestle in one of his sweaters.

“You’re no fun, Kennedy,” she groaned, rolling onto her side as she stared at his popcorn ceiling. JFK sighed, laying down next to her.

“M’ getting tired,” JFK yawned, pulling his duvet cover up to his chest.

“Come here,” Joan wrapped her arms around his large torso, her chin resting on his shoulder. She inhaled deeply, taking in his scent, he smelled sweet, surprisingly. She kind of expected him to smell like axe body spray, but this was nicer. She carefully sneaked her hand under his shirt and onto his back, rubbing it gently. JFK let out a small whimper from her cold hand, in response, Joan whispered small ‘sorries’ into his ear. “Are you comfortable?”

“Mhm..” JFK mumbled, melting in Joan’s touch. “Feels good.” Joan chuckled, continuing to rub big circles on his back. She enjoyed the sweet smell and the warmth of him, her heart fluttering a bit.

“You smell sweet, do you use any special lotion or something?” She asked, bringing her other hand to play with his fluffy, thick hair. 

“Some kinda shampoo... Strawberry..” He muttered, half asleep.

“I like it,” she purred, kissing his collarbone, closing her eyes. “I love you.” She said sleepily, hoping to hear a response but only heard light snores from the tall boy. She analyzed his sleepy expression through the dark. His mouth was slightly ajar and his hair was a bit messy. Joan settled her forehead in his chest, listening to his slow soothing heartbeat as their breathing synced.