Dad stares at me and then up at Jackson again. “What?” he asks. “I was just being polite –“
“Jacks is…not great with polite,” I say, pressing myself warmly to his side. “Actually, I think he’d probably rather fight you than do the small talk thing.”
Jackson scowls, already coming back to himself a little. “Ari, I don’t want to fight him –“
“I know,” I say, nodding and smiling up into his face. “Just – can we all maybe take a bit of space? Try this again over midwinter, maybe over dinner?”
“Or an activity,” Rafe suggests, knowing that even a dinner might be a bit much for Jacks. “Or a great, great deal of whiskey – barrels of it.”
“Enough,” dad snaps good-heartedly at Rafe, waving a dismissive hand at all of us as he turns away. “Fine, fine! We’ll do it all later! I need much more information anyway.”
I grin after him as he walks to the bed with mom at his side, and then I grin between Jacks and Rafe.
“You did great, Jacks,” I whisper, supportive.
“I didn’t…say anything,” he murmurs, glancing after my parents. “Besides, like, my name –“
“But you did that so well,” Rafe says with humorous condescension, patting him on his shoulder with a laugh. I laugh too and Jackson gives a tentative smile, I think giving into it.
Jacks opens his mouth, I think to ask a question, but the door opens again – suddenly, I long for a lock on it – and a professor I don’t recognize comes into the room.
“Um,” he says, looking around, a clipboard in his hand. “I’m looking for Cadets Sinclair, McClintock, and Clark?”
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