Cool Crew Material Chapter 1
Title: Cool crew material 1/?
Rating: PG-ish
Warnings: teen!Jensen POV which means prone to tangents here and here
Summary: Jake Jensen didn’t used to be the kind of guy who hanged out with the cool crew, once.
Word count: 1036
Credits and thanks: The Losers do not belong to me. They belong to DC and Dark Castle Entertainment plus Warner Bros Pictures. I am not making any money off this fic, that was inspired (like the Alien crossover) by a prompt by kelly_girl at the losers_minibang prompt post on livejournal. Many thank to emocezi who gave me pointers, giving me the possibility to post it sooner than expected.
Master list
Actually, he used to be the kind of guy the cool crew ganged up against, to be completely honest, and that was until Carlos “Cougar” Alvarez saw him hacking up in the school mainframe to set off the fire alarm.
Cougar was definitely cool crew material.
He actually was in one of the crews at school, though not one of those who ganged up on Jake and his friends. The Losers, as they called themselves, were more interested in being left alone than in being popular or assorting their superiority through macho bullshit posturing like some of the other cliques.
Roque excluded, but Roque was the kind of guy who no one wanted to piss off and everyone thought was going to end up in jail before the end of the school year. He had a scar along his face, on the right side, that no one knew from where it came and he was big and mean, with a fondness for knives and carving. Not wood like any normal person, no. He carved anything he could get his hands on except girls, maybe. Jake wasn’t too sure about that, there were some really freaky girls at his school.
There was him and then Pooch, who not only was rumored to be the to-go guy if you wanted to pimp out your car or get one to take some girl out but has also managed to land Jolene Jones, who was two years older than him and one of the hottest chicks ever to grace their school with her presence. He was the better of them, probably because Jolene had him eating out of her hand and she wasn’t a bad girl.
Cougar was the silent one of the group and also the one who could nail you with everything. Paper and spit balls, rocks, twigs, air-guns, pencils, whatever. If he got his hands on it and decided to launch it would always hit the target. There was whispering that he was carrying guns when he wasn’t in school but Jensen had discovered that his father had a shooting range so duh, obviously he had great aim and carried guns.
They lived in the glorious United States of America: even Jake and his little sister had a gun each and they weren’t legal for anything yet.
It was whispered that they were all assembled under the tutelage of one Clay Franklin, who was the owner of the military store two blocks down the school. Mr. Franklin, as Jensen dubbed him in his mid, looked like the dirtier, harder version of the spawn of the Countess from G.I. Joe and John Winchester from Supernatural. He was big and burly and ex-army and nobody fucked with him or his boys.
Jake wasn’t supposed to know all of this, except for the tidbits that could be heard on the school grape vine, but he knew it anyway because he was awesome like that and had researched all the people at school who could give him trouble on any given time so to elaborate plans of evade and escape.
WhizGod had totally backed him up on his plan after hearing all about the intimate knowledge Jake have developed with fists and dumpsters during the course of the middle school. She was great, really, and was the coolest adult Jake had ever met (even if the meeting part was relegated to hyper protected chat rooms).
Right, back on topic.
It has been while acting on a bolt of inspiration, gave to him by one of WhizGod tales, that Jake had managed to involuntary attract the attention of Cougar.
Jake has sneaked in the parking lot during recess with his faithful Pamela (his laptop was so cool and sexy and modified that no other name fit, really) and hid himself in the back of his math teacher truck, just to have a better the cover.
He had chosen the parking because near the dumpsters was addicts territory and roof, gym, bleachers, store-rooms, some classrooms and the locker-room were always possible targets for anyone wanting to get lucky and he didn’t wanted to be disturbed thank you very much.
The truck because it was some sort of lumberjack-like truck and his math teacher was hot and nobody would have thought to come and vandalize it. No one vandalized an hot teacher truck ‘cause the world was still civilized, thank god. It was one of Jake favorites hiding place, that truck.
Back on topic, again. Jake had to remind himself to do so pretty much constantly or people would start wondering if he had skipped his meds (because people were morons and preferred to think he had ADHD than “oh his QI is off the charts”).
Yeah, back on topic (and from now on in his mind that would be referred as BOT because it sounded waaay cooler).
He had propped himself on the back of the truck, prepared himself with a bottle of Gatorade on the left and a Tupperware full of grapes on the right (grapes didn’t make crumbles nor had sauces who could hurt his sweet hot Pamela and he actually enjoyed eating fruit sometime) and got down to work.
Which wasn’t as much work as it was entering the fucking easy and fucking unprotected system of the school to deliver a virus programmed to make the fire alarm go off right on cue for the fifth hour, when Jake was supposed to take his accounting test with the rest of his class.
He hadn’t prepared about it and the substitute teacher, the old goat had fallen ill right on time to fuck with Jake life really, had already announced that he would confiscate all the electronic devices, as if he knew that he had wired his cell phone to piggyback on the nearest wi-fi and had programmed to cheat.
Some teachers were really fuckers with no respect for the social life of the rest of the world. What he thought, that he NSA mainframe hacked himself or that people hadn’t better things to do, like watching Firefly reruns or filling up their kink_bingo schedule and that aptly named Big Damn Table that Jake had tackled the month before? His substitute teacher was a fucker, really.
So Jake had set down to work and became so engrossed on leveling up on Mafia Wars and checking Dreamwidth after hacking into the school computers and setting up his little trap that he completely missed the light reflecting on “Cougar” Alvarez binoculars up on the roof, in his favorite perching spot.
And that was how Jake got noticed by one of the cool guys during his second year of high school.