54

Samantha lays her head on the table and sighs loudly, interrupting the absolutely riveting—shameless lies—discussion about politics in ancient Mesopotamia that Winston does not, for the life of him, have any idea how he got dragged into. It's not his forte, and he's also not entirely sure how they even got into this topic in the first place considering that the college doesn't actually, to his knowledge, have any classes that studies Mesopotamia.

Jason, sitting beside Samantha's seat at the round table, reaches and pats her shoulder without ever looking at her, his head still buried in his textbook and frowning at it. "There, there," Jason says, patting Samantha once more and then looking at Clyde and narrowing his eyes. "You do know you're not getting graded for this, right?"

Clyde laughs, leaning back and shooting off the most condescending expression Winston has ever seen in his life. "I know," Clyde tauntingly declares, raising an eyebrow. "I do this because I want to."

Jason stares at Clyde and then turns toward Winston, making a noise of barely suppressed fury. Winston shrugs, and Jason turns back toward Clyde, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have homework," he says, and Clyde laughs.

"I'm all done with mine. What can I say, I'm looking for a new hobby. College life is getting boring," Clyde shrugs, smirking.

Jason makes another noise, and Winston grabs his hand before he tries to leap across the table. Clyde leans back a little more, looking down his nose at them, and huffs. Samantha sighs once more and Jason pats her shoulder again, visibly regaining control of his emotions and tossing aside the history textbook he'd picked up at the library, pulling out his actual homework instead.

Clyde grabs the history book and pick up right where Jason left off, eyes moving as he reads, and Winston exhales. He leans a little forward and eyes Samantha, who hasn't moved a muscle and sighs again, as if on cue. He studies her, but her long hair hides most of her face, and he doesn't know her very well anyway.

Jason glances at her when she sighs again. "What's wrong?" he asks, turning his head to properly look at her. He frowns, and Winston frowns with him.

Samantha exhales, and her hair momentarily rises with the gust of air. "Rory broke up with me," she mutters into the table, drawing figures on it with expertly manicured orange nails that glitter in the light. Today is an exceptionally slushy day, nearly all snow melted into piles of mush that stick to shoes, no frost to be seen, and the morning sun beats harshly down upon them from a clear blue sky.

Pushing herself up from the table, both hands squarely placed upon it, Samantha lets out another gust of wind, hair fluttering. "Rory broke up with me," Samantha repeats, with much greater force.

"I'm sorry," Jason says. "Do you want a hug?"

"Yeah," Samantha says, and turns. She falls onto Jason and they hug for a minute, Winston glancing at Clyde to see if he's got an opinion. But Clyde is still entirely buried in his history book, eyes narrowed as he furiously reads, mouthing something to himself, and he doesn't appear to have noticed anything at all.

Winston scoots his chair closer to Jason and when Samantha has relocated back to her own chair and rubbed her eyes, he asks, "Are you alright?"

She sniffles, brushing her hand under her nose. "I'm fine," she says, and Winston is willing to bet nobody at this table believes her (aside from, perhaps, Clyde who still doesn't appeared to have realized anything is happening). Jason, in fact, pats her back and rubs it, and she sinks right back onto the table, crossing her arms and resting her head on it. Sighing, she hides her face with her hair and repeats, "I'm fine."

"I have some milk," Winston offers for lack of anything else to say. Or do.

She turns her head, hair parting so he can see her eye when she looks up at him. "Unused?" she asks and he nods. She glances around the table, skipping right over Clyde who is still utterly enamored with whatever he's reading about and is now furiously scribbling notes in a glittery notebook, and she says, "Milk, please."

Winston hands his unused mini-milk carton over to her. She stabs the straw right into it, viciously and smugly, and she swallows the entire carton's worth of milk in the blink of an eye. Handed his carton back, Winston stares at it, slowly tilting his head. "Thanks," Samantha says, and at least she does sound kind of better. Less hoarse, for one.

He nods, sliding down a little in his seat. Glances around; they're on the veranda outside the cafeteria, most of the area covered by a very frail-looking roof, though they're in one of the places that isn't covered by anything at all. The ground around them is all slush, though luckily the staff does clean the actual tables and chairs, or Winston's

Jason asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Samantha purses her lips. She brushes a hand through her hair, over her face, rubs her eyes and under her nose. Finally, she says. "I thought we were fine. We've been arguing, but I thought it was fine."

Jason nods sympathetically, kicking Clyde under the table until Clyde looks up and notices that Samantha is on the edge of crying. Winston does feel a little bit like he shouldn't be here; he doesn't know here very well, they aren't close, and this isn't a free-for-all moment to witness her grieve a lost relationship. Winston isn't sure why he hasn't gotten tossed out—metaphorically, they're already outside—yet, but at least Clyde is as cluelessly unhelpful as him.

Well, for about two seconds, then Clyde blinks and realizes what's happening. "You and Rory broke up?"

Samantha scoffs. "Rory broke up with me. I don't—didn't—anyway, it was Rory's decision." Samantha shakes her head, sniffles, and says, "I don't know how it got to this point. Like, yes, we've been arguing more lately but we've talking about it. Communicating our issues and finding solutions and stuff. Like adults are supposed to do. And yet—Rory broke up with me." She stares aimlessly into thin air, eyebrows furrowed and biting on her glossy lower lip.

"Dude, that sucks," Clyde eloquently says. He scoots his chair over, it making a truly unholy noise that has everyone their side of the veranda wincing, and adds, "I know how much you like Rory. I'm sorry they did this."

Samantha nods. She presses her lips together tightly, all her energy seemingly dissipating at once as she flops back onto the table and groans. Clyde frowns, looking to Jason and receiving an equally frowny expression in return, and Samantha mutters, "I don't know what to do," into the table's harsh iron surface.

Clyde says, "I'll take you out somewhere," and Jason pats her back again. Samantha doesn't respond, just groans again, and Clyde shrugs when Winston glances at him. Winston looks away from them all, instead directing his gaze to the trees, and the sky.

He's never ended a serious relationship. Barely even been in a serious relationship. All he's ever done are quick flings and experimentation in bathrooms and bedrooms. He doesn't—wouldn't know—doesn't know what to do in this situation. What he would do in this situation, if he was in her place, and he doesn't think it's any of his business regardless. Samantha didn't invite him to witness this, might be too scatterbrained by her breakup to even realize that he's here for this, and he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable.

Doesn't want to cross boundaries.

(He tries to imagine what he'd feel if Jason broke up with him. It doesn't help the current situation at all, and only makes a pit grow in his stomach, so he stops.)

Frowning, Winston rushes out, "Can I do anything for you?" in a vain attempt to shut out the dark visions he summoned upon himself. He peeks at her again, but she doesn't look up from her position on the table, Clyde slowly scooting his way over and holding his hand over her back, looking to Jason and raising an eyebrow.

Samantha murmurs into it, "Thanks for the offer, babe, but... I don't even know." Jason removes his hand so that Clyde can take over providing physical comfort during the remaining of their study session, Winston making awkward overtures of comfort that nevertheless aren't rejected. And slowly but surely, Samantha stops slumping over the table—even if its only because her neck hurts (as she mutters).

---

A/N: there's an editorial note to move this chapter to earlier in this story. idk what this means tho. have i already done that? is this a repeat chapter? where did i mean to put this? so many questions, past me! be more clear in your notes! (not that i would do it now, though, lol)