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Room and Board	By : sillyneko345 Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 25355 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own the game this story is based on (Jak & Daxter) nor do I make any money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Ch. 1
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 21-Ch. 21
- 22-Ch. 22
- 23-Ch. 23
- 24-Ch. 24
- 25-Ch. 25
- 26-Ch. 26
- 27-Ch. 27
- 28-Ch. 28
- 29-Ch. 29
- 30-Ch. 30
- 31-Ch. 31
- 32-Ch. 32
- 33-Ch. 33
- 34-Ch. 34
- 35-Ch. 35
- 36-ch. 36
- 37-ch. 37
- 2
- 3
- 4
Characters: Belong to Naughty Dog, Inc.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Daxter? Are you okay?”
Daxter stood very still as Jak approached, worry plain in his blue eyes. The taller boy moved closer and closer through the muggy, steam-filled air of the showers, until they were so close their bare chests nearly brushed. The redhead stared steadily up at the other’s face, his back against the solid support of the tiled wall. He felt strangely calm inside, even as Jak slowly lifted a hand and placed it gently on one freckled shoulder.
An easy warmth spread through him, and Daxter shivered slightly. He lifted his own hand to touch Jak in return, raised his eyes once more to reassure. He was alright. This was fine.
Jak smiled down at him, those deep blue eyes now lazy and radiating the same inviting warmth. With a smile of his own the redhead stepped forward—
Daxter opened his eyes with a sharp gasp. For a moment he lay frozen, desperately seeking his bearings, until reality caught up with him. He was in bed. In his own bed in his own room. Alone and unbothered.
“Ah, hell…” The redhead shakily released the breath he had been holding, slowly relaxing as his heart rate returned to normal.
It was the third time. The third damn time he’d had the same damn dream, and he was still at a loss as to why he wasn’t waking up from it screaming. By all rights it should scare the hell out of him; the perfect formula for nightmares. Back to the wall. A solid mass of muscle mere inches away. No way out if the other decided to pin him there. He could be thrown against that wall, pushed down, mouth pried open or worse, and he would be helpless. And yet… all he felt now, as he had felt on the previous two occasions, was that lingering, almost relaxed warmth in his chest and limbs. Not to mention his lower belly.
Dax sighed as he lifted the blanket and glanced down. “And a case of morning wood on top of it. Great.” From below came a string of ferret-chatter, no doubt in response to his voice. The water bottle hanging from the wire cage rattled briskly with the lapping of an enthusiastic tongue. “Quiet, smart ass. I never asked you.” He had somehow developed a habit of talking to Killer when Jak wasn’t around to be graced with his witty banter.
Daxter stretched lazily and flopped over onto his stomach, rolling his hips languidly into the mattress. Mmm. That was nice. He snuggled his pillow absently, relishing the luxurious freedom of staying in bed. It was mid-morning. He was warm and comfortable. And Jak would be at practice. If he so chose he was perfectly entitled to stay right where he was and feel himself up for an hour.
Slow, unhurried masturbation without threat of discovery and punishment was a foreign concept that Daxter was just beginning to grasp, with a roommate who was largely absent during the day and a lock on the door that only he and said roommate had keys to. A foreign and very appealing concept. But now, even with the assurance of more privacy than he had ever had before in his life, he was just uneasy enough to keep his hands off himself. Memory of the dream still lingered, confusing and somehow embarrassing.
“Damn it. Guess I’m gettin’ up after all. Waste of a good boner… thanks a lot, weird-ass dream.” Daxter pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the mattress, legs dangling as he looked out absently over their room. Still. It was so odd. It had been almost a month since that fateful night in the showers. At the very least he should be having nightmares about Erol, not dreams about his roommate that gave him the warm and fuzzies.
With a sigh, the redhead slithered down from the top bunk. He stretched mightily. It was time for breakfast, and he had a class in an hour and a half. As he was moving to collect fresh clothes, though, Daxter caught sight of something stuck to the door of his wardrobe. Cocking his head curiously, he pulled off the sticky note.
“Hey Dax—pizza after practice? Got coupons for the good place. Meet me at the stadium at noon. Jak.” Daxter stared at the note for a long moment before snorting. “He signed his name. What, did he think I’d think the weasel wrote it?”
Still. He couldn’t help the grin slowly forcing its way onto his face. On the Monday of Homecoming Week, the busiest week of the entire season thus far for the football team, Jak wanted to set time aside for them to hang out. He was such a dork. Daxter crumpled the note, tossed it at the trashcan, and mentally did the same to any plans he might have been formulating for after class. Apparently, he was going out for pizza.
- - - - -
The September sun reflected hot on the stadium’s metal bleachers by the time Daxter crept into them a few hours later. He perched cautiously in the first row of seating, looking out over the mostly empty field, backpack a comforting weight on his back. Practice had ended ten minutes ago. If he, such a conspicuously non-jock redhead, sat out in such an obvious spot, Jak would be sure to find him.
He still felt massively awkward to be encroaching on what would have hitherto been considered enemy territory. Now that he was hanging around Jak, though, it seemed like he might have some slight right to be there. And apparently he wasn’t the only one using their connections to a member of the football team to loiter around the field. Down on the fringes of the green turf, Razer stood out like a beacon in a bright blue and red jogging outfit as he chatted with one of the biggest men Daxter had seen yet on campus. It had to be Coach Sig, the redhead decided. The guy was so big he made Razer look petite. Daxter debated for a moment before slowly making his way toward them. He was here; he may as well make an attempt to be sociable while he waited for Jak.
“Phoenix tells me you work him quite hard,” Razer purred just as Dax came within earshot. “I heartily approve. He certainly needs to be put through his paces. It would be such a shame if he became lazy and let his position on the team go to his dear little head, yes?” He was pulling what had already become a trademarked move of space invasion and eyeing the bigger man like a rack of lamb.
Daxter snorted. “Is it possible fer you ta make conversation with anybody without turnin’ it into a pickup session?”
Razer glanced over his shoulder in surprise and immediately scowled. “Well, I don’t recall having tried to pick you up yet, noisy little thing that you are.” Obviously irritated, he pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket as he scanned the field.
Surprisingly, Sig seemed largely oblivious to being hit on like a metaphorical punching bag by the charming exchange student. He looked down at Daxter with good-natured curiosity, clipboard tucked under one massively muscled arm. “And who’s this, now?”
“I’m Daxter.” The redhead gulped and did his best not to gawk at the coach’s huge build and height, fighting down a nervous crack about the weather up there. “I’m just, uh, waitin’ fer Jak.”
“Is that so? How ‘bout that. Jak never told me he had a little brother!” A hand the size of catcher’s mitt descended without warning and ruffled red-gold hair into wild disarray.
Daxter’s mouth dropped open in shock and righteous indignation as Razer laughed loudly. “I’m his roommate!” he shrieked, pushing the insolent hand away. “Damn it, why does everybody I meet think I’m a kid?!”
Sig reared back in surprise at the outburst. “Whoa, okay! Calm down, there, cherry.   I didn’t mean to offend you.”
The big hand came back, patting his head this time in a way suspiciously reminiscent of the way one patted a dog or a child throwing a tantrum, and Daxter would have stalked out of the stadium in high annoyance had Jak and Phoenix not chosen that moment to come strolling up. He huffed in aggravation, ears angling back. “Well, look who decided ta show. It’s about time.”
“Hey Dax,” Jak said cheerfully. “Sorry about the wait. Phoenix and I had to lock up the locker room. What’s up?”
Sig grinned and slapped Daxter’s back hard enough to send the redhead staggering. “I was just telling the roommates of my star players how great it is to see them out here showing their support. And it not even a game day, too. That’s the kind of spirit we need around here!”
“Yeah, spirit,” Daxter wheezed, swaying under the force of the coach’s enthusiasm. Damn! If the guy was this dangerous when he was happy about something, Daxter wouldn’t want to see him when he was mad.
Phoenix chuckled as he tugged the band out of his long black hair and redid the ponytail. “What are you doing here, Razer? You’re usually out jogging this time of day.”
“Yes, and so I was.” Razer flicked away the cigarette completely at odds with his chosen cardio workout. “Killing two birds with one stone, you might say. However, since my first motive seems to have fallen flat, I simply say that I am here to reunite you with the History notes you left in our room this morning.” He gestured casually behind him, to where a thick notebook lay on the bottommost bleacher. “The ones for the class you will be going to shortly…?”
“Oh? Oh, damn!” The look on Phoenix’s face quickly morphed from surprised to sheepish. “Thanks a lot, I had no idea I’d forgotten it. I owe you one.”
Razer smirked. “I’ll add it to your tab. Fun as it has been, I will bid you all adieu. I am falling behind on my exercise schedule.”
“Alright. See you after class, then!” Phoenix waved as his roommate jogged away with a flippant gesture over his shoulder. “I guess I better get going myself. Hey, Jak, interested in meeting us for burgers when I get out of class?”
The green-blonde smiled but shook his head. “No thanks. Dax and I are going for pizza. Right, Dax?”
For a second all Daxter could do was blink and stare. Jak had just gotten an invite from his super-cool football player friend. He had just passed up said invite from said super-cool football player friend because he already had plans with his shrimpy, uncool roommate? Yet another curve ball Jak was getting good at rocketing through his concept of reality. “Uh, yeah. Pizza. Pizza is good.”
If Phoenix was upset or jealous at being ditched, he didn’t show it. “Okay, that’s cool. Catch you two later, then.”
“Study hard, kid,” Sig grinned. “I don’t care how far overseas the recruiters had to go to find you, drop those grades and I’ll kick your ass off the team so fast you won’t know what hit you. Have fun! See you next practice.”
Daxter stared as Sig went one way, whistling cheerfully and flipping through his clipboard, and Phoenix went the other, looking more than a little nervous. He glanced up at Jak and quirked an ear in amazement. “Wow. So, uh… is it always like this out here?”
“Much worse, sometimes.” Jak didn’t look too concerned. “Anyway, let’s go. I’m starving! I’ve been thinking about pizza since I woke up.”
“Yeah, that note ya left wasn’t a huge clue at all.”
“Hey, lay off. I’m really hungry in the morning.” Jak slung his bag over his shoulder and began to walk, toward the exit at the end of the bleachers. “I just need to drop off my books and get some actual money and we can go. I don’t think the place takes meal cards.”
“Ya never know. Their delivery guy’s a total stoner. He might be able ta hook ya up.” Daxter scampered after his roommate, feeling lighter and somehow bubbly despite the heavy backpack he carried. He couldn’t help it—he was beginning to enjoy the time spent hanging out with Jak more and more, especially the times when they went out of their way to hang out rather than simply chancing to be in the dorm room together at the same time. The lightheartedness prompted him to be playful. “Hey, football boy. How ‘bout a little race, huh?”
“A race?”
“Yeah. Last one back ta the dorm buys the pizza!”
“I don’t know, Dax.” Jak’s smile wasn’t quite condescending, but there was a definite note of big-brother-little-brother in it. “You know I’m the running back. Being fast is what I’m—hey!”
Daxter didn’t give the green-blonde a chance to finish the thought. He was off like a shot down the sidewalk toward the main drags of campus, Jak hard on his heels a moment later. Jak was probably right, and he probably didn’t have a prayer of winning, but at least he could give the big guy a run for his money. After all, when running from jocks was a full time job, he had gotten pretty good at it.
By the time they reached the dorm, though, Daxter was regretting his challenge slightly. He panted with every breath, silently counting the slaps of his sneakers on the concrete as he sprinted up the path toward the main entrance door. Maybe he should have waited until they were a bit closer to the goal to call a race. But, as he reached the door with a triumphant surge and turned to see where Jak was, his tired legs became irrelevant.
Jak was more than a dozen paces behind him, already slowed to a jog. He finally geared down to a walk, sucking ragged breaths like an overworked racehorse and staring at the redhead in something akin to amazement.
Dax shifted uncertainly. “Uh… I win?”
“Yeah, you win,” Jak gasped, leaning against the brick wall and looking at his watch. “And you… should totally be… on the… track team.”
“What can I say? Never underestimate the speed of the Orange Lightning, Jakkie-baby.” Daxter smirked and held open the door for his tired friend in lieu of smugly polishing his nails on his shirt. “They always learn the hard way.”
“Orange Lighting?” Jak blinked cluelessly.
“It’s just somethin’ I made up ta call myself in middle school gym,” the redhead explained as they made their way upstairs to their room. “Kinda dumb, but it made me feel better. Catchin’ balls, or hittin’ balls, or avoiding bein’ hit by balls, I’m not so great at. But nobody could catch me!”
“I believe it,” Jak muttered as he unlocked the door. “Not only could I not catch you, I could barely even keep up with you. That’s not a huge confidence booster, you know.”
“Don’t feel bad, big guy.” Daxter grinned, dropping into Jak’s desk chair simply because it was closer and he lacked the energy to drag himself all the way to his own desk. “You were already tired from practice. I bet you’d have been able ta keep up otherwise.”
“I wasn’t that tired. And think about it. I train and practice almost every day. I’m in shape. Running is what I do. Sig’s always saying my endurance is the best on the team. No offense, you’re even smaller than me—and you still beat me. That’s impressive.”
Daxter could feel his face heating up, flush migrating quickly from his cheeks up his ears. He was used to bragging on himself. Having someone else, specifically someone as awesome as Jak, compliment him and actually mean it made him strangely blushy and squirmy. He quickly turned away, staring fixedly at the small corkboard on the wall next to Jak’s desk.
“You realize Sig can never find out about this,” the green-blonde joked as he dropped his bag and grabbed his wallet out of the desk drawer near Daxter’s elbow. “If he hears that we ran more than a mile in five minutes and I lost, he’ll have me running suicides for a week!” He paused, looking over Daxter’s shoulder. “What’re you looking at?”
“You, bein’ a dork,” the redhead answered without thinking. He shut his mouth quickly, but of course it was already out. He had been staring at the snapshots tacked to the corkboard; he had noticed them before, but never actually looked at them closely. He swallowed a little nervously, hoping Jak wouldn’t be mad that he was snooping. “Uh, is that the same girl?”
Jak grinned at the photos. One showed a much younger Jak knee-deep in a creek, side by side with a pigtailed green- and blue-haired little girl as they proudly held a giant bullfrog up to the camera. In another, probably a prom photo, Jak and a green- and blue-haired young lady stood in formal attire giving each other bunny ears. “Yeah, that’s Keira. We sort of get into a lot of trouble together.”
“That’s yer mechanic girl? Wow, she is hot!” The moment the words left his mouth Daxter wanted to smack himself. Never, never call another dude’s girl hot to his face! He tensed for the explosion… which never came.
“Told you so. She grew up real nice. Dropped the pigtails and picked up a wrench.” Jak fondly straightened the pictures under their thumbtacks. “Ever since we were little she used to climb this big tree in our side yard and crawl in my window. We’d do crazy stuff like that all the time. We used to drive my uncle nuts.”
“That’s yer uncle?” Daxter asked, looking at a third photo of Jak at what was obviously his high school graduation—cap, gown, triumphant diploma, and an old man in a monocle weeping into a handkerchief while trying to hug Jak around the neck.
“Yeah. He gets a little… emotional, sometimes.”
“I bet ya miss ‘em, huh? Must be lonely for ya, bein’ away from home.”
“Well, yeah, sure I miss them. But I’m not lonely. I’ve got you, and Phoenix, and the coach, and Killer.” Jak straightened up and tucked his wallet into his back pocket. “So, are we ready? I’m starving.”
“Okay, okay! Jeez, Jak, take a chill pill. I don’t care how much energy ya burned off at practice, gnawin’ on the paneling isn’t gonna do anything but piss Tattooed Wonder off when it comes time fer end-of-semester room inspection.” Daxter followed his roommate out, fighting down his second wave of warm fuzzies that day.
- // - // - // - // -
It occurred to Jak, as he started on his fourth slice of extra cheese pizza with the works, that he might want to slow down and save some for Daxter. For all that he was thin as a twig, the redhead usually had an appetite to rival his own. However, the morning’s hard exercise had apparently opened an empty hole similar to the Mariana Trench in Jak’s stomach, and not filling it was out of the question. “I’ll buy another one, I swear,” he mumbled, a long string of melted cheese bridging the gap from his mouth to the slice.
Daxter snickered and held his second slice of pizza out of harm’s way. “It’s all good, big guy, long as ya don’t try comin’ after the pieces I’ve already got my hands on. Wouldn’t wanna lose a finger.”
“Uh, yeah.” Jak took a guilty swig of pop to wash down the crust and cleared his throat. Maybe if he talked a little more and ate a little less, his friend would have a chance to claim some food. “So, Dax. You’ll never guess what happened at practice today.”
“Wait, don’t tell me. Somebody tripped the turf sprinklers again?” The redhead’s ears flicked as he munched, imagination obviously running at the speed of light. “Nah, last time that happened ya came back lookin’ like a mud ball. Somebody else get the boot fer bad behavior? Aliens abduct the water boy?"
Jak grinned. “I wish aliens would abduct the water boy. But no.”
“Okay, I give. What happened at practice?”
“Coach Sig said he wants to try switching mine and Phoenix’s positions.”
Daxter’s jaw stopped working mid chew, ears shooting vertical. “Whoa. Seriously?”
“Yeah. Just on a trial basis for now, you know. But apparently he thinks I’d make a decent quarterback.”
“Well, damn. Way ta go, Jakkie-boy. Is Phoenix pissed? Didn’t he get, like, demoted?”
Jak laughed. “It’s not a demotion, it’s just a different position. Running backs are a huge part of teams. But no, he’s not upset. At least, he had every opportunity to drown me in a toilet in the locker room today and he didn’t take it, so I’m led to believe that he’s not upset.”
Daxter sprayed breadstick crumbs all over his plate as he tried not to choke on his laughter. “Dude, don’t say stuff like that when my mouth’s full!”
“What, the mental image of me dead with my head in the toilet is funny to you?” The newly-christened quarterback grinned as he reached for slice number five. Screw it; he would definitely buy a second pizza. It was a time to be happy and damn it, pizza made him happy. “Man. I still can’t believe Homecoming is in four days and I just got bumped to quarterback.”
“I still can’t believe I’m gonna be rooming with the quarterback.” Shaking his head slowly, Daxter reached for the remaining slice. “Sheesh. Talk about life doin’ a one-eighty.”
“Now, now, Dax. We’ve had this discussion. It’s entirely normal to be a football player and a decent person at the same time.” Jak had been going out of his way to chip away at his roommate’s hard-learned notions of how a football player was supposed to act, but he still caught the redhead looking at him from time to time like he had come from Mars.
“I hate ta break this to ya, pal, but I repeat: yer about as far from a normal college football star as it’s possible ta be.” Daxter scrubbed the crumbs from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, an oddly endearing gesture. “Case in point. Here you are, sittin’ here eatin’ pizza with me instead’a one of yer teammates or a smokin’ hot sorority babe who threw herself at yer toes. You think that’s normal?”
“I’d say eating lunch with my friend is entirely normal, yeah.” Jak reached across the small table to ruffle Daxter’s hair. “Jeez, Dax, you act like I wouldn’t even speak to you if we didn’t just so happen to be roommates. You’re not lower class or something because you don’t play a sport.”
Daxter batted the annoying hand away, but grinned ruefully all the same. “See? That. That right there. You act like we’ll still be all buddy-buddy when we ain’t even roommates anymore.”
Jak faltered, his happy mood taking a dip. Barring Keira, Daxter was easily the best friend he had ever had—even if the redhead seemed determined not to believe it. The idea that they would cease to be friends during their sophomore year simply because summer break kept them apart for three and a half months was unacceptable. “Daxter, even if we don’t room together next year, we will still be friends. We’ll be friends or so help me I will hunt you down next fall and give you the worst wedgie of your life. Now eat that slice so I can go order another pizza. I’m still hungry.”
Daxter blinked at him before taking a huge bite. “Can ya get extra peppers on that?”
“You got it.” Jak shoved his seat back from the table, but before he could begin the epic quest for more pizza a cacophonous crash from the direction of the kitchen stopped him cold.
“Damn it, Ximon, will you take your freaking headphones off when I’m trying to yell at you?! I said get your skateboard off my floors! It’s ruining the laminate!” Another crash echoed as the purple-haired girl behind the counter dropped another pizza pan. “Where have you been? I needed you back here twenty minutes ago!”
Pizza Haven’s blonde delivery boy cringed under his backwards baseball cap, holding up his hands in placation. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Simmer down, dudette. What’s the rush?”
Daxter snickered, leaning toward Jak to whisper conspiratorially. “I don’t think that guy’s ever rushed anywhere in his life. But the babe? Hottie!”
Jak nodded covertly, eyes trained on the budding altercation. Would it be possible to kill someone with a breadstick? If so, it looked like the girl was about to commit murder.
“Rush? You wanna know what the rush is? Okay, I’ll tell you what the rush is, Ximon.” Well manicured hands met the countertop with a decisive thump. “We’re seven delivery orders behind schedule, since somebody seems to think it’s acceptable to park their rust bucket at the game store while they’re on the clock. I’m the only person in this godforsaken building making pizza, boxing pizza, serving up orders, and trying to keep the dining room presentable, since our cook and all three of our waiters decided that they were too hung over to show up to their jobs this morning. Well, guess what happens when you don’t do your job, Ximon? You get fired!”
The blonde winced, blanching under his shaggy goatee. “Taryn. Sweetheart. Beautiful cousin that I adore only in the most platonic and non-creepy of ways. Can’t we have a calzone and talk this over?”
Locks of purple hair swirled around her reddened cheeks as an oven timer went off in the recesses of the kitchen and Taryn spun on her heel to tend to it. “Oh, you can bet I’m going to talk this over—with Uncle Osmo, as soon as possible. I can’t work like this! I’m a manager, not an octopus. I can’t do it all myself. If he wants this place to stay above water then I need some decent help!”
An awkward silence stretched.
Daxter glanced back and forth between Jak and the dejected delivery boy. “Sooo. I’m guessing now’s not the best time ta ask for more breadsticks?”
"Huh? Oh, no problemo, dude. Got you covered.” Ximon ambled behind the counter and reappeared a moment later with a fresh basket of breadsticks for their table. “They’re not exactly warm anymore, but I guess we’re a little short on help today. So what’s up, dudes? I remember you guys, totally.”
The redhead reached for a breadstick, ears flicking idly. “Are you sure? There have ta be some other guys out in the dorms with a pet ferret that ran under the bed with yer tip an’ put tooth holes in the bill.”
Jak cleared his throat. Funny, he had almost managed to forget about that rather embarrassing incident. “Sorry again about that. I promise he’ll be in the cage next time we order out.”
“Duuuude.” Ximon laughed and offered a peaceable fist bump. “No sweat. One of the most interesting deliveries I ever made. Oh, hey!” His ears flew up in sudden inspiration. “You dudes should totally come work here! This place would get a lot more entertaining. Plus, I got a feeling the Taryn-ator fired the rest of our employees this morning.”
“I heard that!” she yelled from the kitchen. “Quit yakking and get those deliveries out! If they want a job, tell them to fill out applications.”
“So, how ‘bout it, dudes? You up for it?”
“Eh, why not.” Daxter shrugged. “A little extra cash never hurt nobody. Jak can’t, though, sorry. His job is throwin’ footballs and lookin’ pretty for the ladies. You’d have a coach the size of a rhino out for yer blood if ya tried ta steal him away from practice.”
“No problem, dude. Well, I gotta hit the trail, y’know? There’s a stack of applications by the register. Just fill one out, bring it back, and I’ll hook you up with my old man. He’ll hire you on the spot. Catch you later, dudes!”
Jak watched him go, then looked at Daxter sidelong and shook his head. “If you get a job here and start saying ‘dude’ all the time, just to warn you—I might have to change schools.”
- - - - -
In the end they got the second pizza to go. It seemed kinder, somehow, than to stay and watch Taryn slowly lose her mind.
“She totally would’a given you a discount on that, y’know,” Daxter said as they strolled up the sidewalk outside the dorm. “I can’t imagine many people would be nice enough ta buy a pizza somebody else didn’t want ‘cause they didn’t get it delivered fast enough.”
“Yeah, I know. But it’s a perfectly good pizza. I wouldn’t feel right getting it cheap for no reason.”
The redhead grinned. “Jakkie-boy, there’s somethin’ wrong in yer head. In a good way, though, I guess.”
“Hey, you’re the one who cleaned up the dining room without getting paid. You don’t even work there yet.”
“Uh, yeah. Hot babe, Jak, hot babe! She clearly needed help, and damsels in distress are my specialty. Kinda like Tattooed Wonder. He’s out there with his damsel right now.” Daxter pointed across the lawn, to where Torn and a young woman with bright red hair, also in dreadlocks, were chest to chest and shouting. The girl was standing on her toes to look Torn in the eye while she gestured dramatically.
Jak was unimpressed. “If Ashelin’s a damsel, I’m a squirrel. Come on, they can’t even stand each other.”
“They’re gonna get married,” Daxter cooed, lacing his fingers under his chin and batting his eyelashes cutely. “True love, right there.”
Privately the green-blonde thought that whatever stars had aligned to put Ashelin Praxis on the same floor Torn inhabited were destructive ones. She was the haughty, snide daughter of the high-profile politician whose generous donations to Haven U years ago had built the dorm they currently lived in. Torn was a cold, calculating rebel through and through who made it blatantly clear what he thought of such “charitable” publicity stunts. At the head of opposing halls, forever bent on securing the upper hand in an ongoing battle of floor supremacy that had apparently been simmering for the entirety of the three years that Ashelin had been an RA, the two were less than lovebirds.
As if echoing the thought, the two suddenly broke off the argument and stalked apart. Torn made a beeline for the two friends on the sidewalk, ears back flat and his countenance grim as autumn storm clouds.   “Jak!” he barked, before they could be alarmed enough to flee. “I need you!”
Daxter’s brows shot up. “Rawr! Why, Torn, I never knew you were so sweet on Blondie, here—”
“Shut up, Daxter. Jak! That tramp of an undergrad senior just challenged us in the dorm relay this weekend. You and Phoenix are in—I don’t think she’s even realized I have football players. That works in our favor. And we’ll get Razer, he can run. He jogs all the damn time, anyway.”
Jak’s ears slowly wilted under the barrage. “Uh, Torn, you do realize that Homecoming Weekend is supposed to be fun, right? We have dorm games and stuff to have fun.”
“Fun went out the window when she said I couldn’t RA a group of preschoolers,” Torn growled flatly. “This is a matter of pride now. Three-West will not fall to Three-East’s flying monkeys and their mistress.”
“Ouch!” Daxter laughed. “You all have fun with that.”
“All we need is a fourth runner and we’re golden. Someone who can keep up with you, Jak. Any suggestions?”
After the second it took for the question to sink in, Jak’s ears perked. “Daxter.”
Torn stared. “Come again?”
“Dax. He’s your fourth runner.”
Daxter’s eyes widened hugely. “Whoa, whoa, Jak, wait a sec—!”
“As if. You really expect me to believe this little shrimp can go up against the athletes? I happen to know there’s at least one baseball player on Ashelin’s side. Those bastards are fast.”
Jak dropped a hand on Daxter’s shoulder, steadying the jittery redhead and grinning at the RA. “Torn, listen. We raced each other back here from the stadium this morning and I couldn’t catch him. Trust me. Start the race with Razer and have him hand off to Phoenix. Put me and Dax at the end of the relay. We’ll dominate, I promise.”
Silence broken only by traffic and late cicadas stretched for long moments, wherein Torn stared hard and Daxter blinked like a cornered owlet. Finally Torn nodded. “Alright, you two are in. The honor of 3W is in your hands now. If you’ll excuse me, I have to find Phoenix.” He brushed past them toward the doors, looking more determined than ever.
Jak turned to Daxter, letting some of the excitement of Homecoming Week bubble up for the first time. “Sweet! We’re gonna kick ass. Is this cool, or what?”
Daxter stared up at him in horror before throwing up his hands in a move that almost knocked the pizza box out of Jak’s own. “What did you just DO ta me?!”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Jak held the box up out of harm’s way and watched curiously as his roommate had a spaz attack. “It’s just a race.”
“I have absolutely zero desire ta run in front’a the whole damn dorm, ya big lug! What happens when I fall on my face an’ blow it, huh? I’ll look like an idiot! Torn’s gonna kill me!”
Jak laughed. “Come on, Dax, you’re gonna be fine. You’re a great runner. It’s no big deal.”
“Easy fer you ta say,” the redhead sulked, pouting up at him with an almost wounded look. “You perform in front’a tons of people all the time. Of course it’s no big deal ta you. An’ people don’t hate you if ya lose.”
Something about that pitiful little wibble was so cute that Jak almost wanted to drop the pizza and hug his friend right there on the sidewalk. Knowing the ear-rending shrieking that would come of being treated like the quarterback’s kid brother, though, he wisely didn’t follow up on the urge. “Daxter, I promise you, you’re going to do great. You won’t fall on your face, and no one will hate you. And if you do, just blame it all on me. That’s what the football team does, anyway.”
“If I bomb this I’m gonna do more than blame ya, I’m gonna smother you in yer sleep,” the redhead whined, crossing his arms and still glaring. “And I know where you sleep, Jak!”
“Your threat has been duly noted. Now let’s go eat the pizza, huh? I need to find Phoenix when Torn’s done with him—we have to come up with our battle plan for the game Friday.”
“Runnin’ the dorm races in the morning, playin’ the Homecoming game in the evening, an’ who knows what else in between. Yer just an overachiever, is what ya are!”
Jak grinned and lead the way up to the door without comment. In a way, Daxter was right. It was going to be one hell of a week, and he was in it up to his eyeballs. But it was also going to be an exciting week, and he was happy to have a friend like Dax to share it with.
- - - - -
To be continued.
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