brooklynishere | Open Post

When Spot's eyes narrow, Ezra's widen as he realises he's got to explain himself a bit. And he's not really into telling his entire life story to strangers but, like Spot, he figures it's only a matter of time before he finds out.

So he turns back to his food, lets the silence fall for as long as it takes to take a bite of his burger (but not long enough to swallow) before he says, apparently out of nowhere:

"You had music yet?"

The apparently non-sequitur is confusing, but Spot doesn't really question it - mostly he's just glad to have a place for the conversation to actually go, rather than descending into awkward silence. It would have been fine if they hadn't started talking, but now that they have it would be weird to just stop.

"Uh, no, I think I have it tomorrow?" He offers, wondering if maybe Ezra just likes music or something and is looking for common ground, that's a thing people do, right?

Well, he does, but he doesn't really admit to liking the kind of music they teach here, not much.

Ezra gives his plate a sheepish shrug. "So Mr Jarrus - the music teacher - he's my foster dad. There's a discount for staff kids, which is why I'm here."

He's not really embarrassed about it, not anymore. But he is only offering to explain why he's even here, when he doesn't exacxtly blend in.

Ah. Now he understands - and, weirdly, it makes him slightly less wary of Ezra in general, and definitely less wary of him finding out about his own situation.

"You get many problems 'cause of it?" He asks, and yea okay maybe it's a little blunt, but why beat around the bush when that's specifically what he wants to know? He doesn't really care if it gives anything away about himself at this point, because either the answer is yes and Ezra is (hopefully) unlikely to want anybody else to experience that shit, or the answer is no and he has nothing to worry about anyway.

"Some," Ezra admits. Though he'd also admit, if pressed, that part of it's his own fault for being a sulky asshole when he first arrived.

But not all of it.

"You'll figure out the real assholes soon enough. Some can be - stupid, I guess? When they tal about their rich parents, but don't mean it. But yeah, there are a few who just like being shit."

Spot nods - something to be aware of, for sure, but definitely doesn't sound like anything he can't handle.

He might actually get in less fights here than he did after returning to his old school.

Maybe.

"Good to know."

Ezra nods at that. Sounds like he got it right, and this kid would do well to have someone watching his back - someone who knows what it's like to stand out, even if they do so in different ways.

He takes another bite of his burger, just to give time for any questions. But with no small talk coming he asks one of his own:

"So you're from out East?"

Spot makes a small noise of confirmation, nodding again.

"Brooklyn." He says, but that's all the information he volunteers. He's tense, waiting for the question - he doesn't want to talk about it if he doesn't have to, so he holds off in case Ezra decides not to ask, but he's expecting it all the same.

"You always lived around here?" He adds - he's not normally given to showing an interest in other people, but he'll use it as a distraction if he has to. Besides, Ezra seems okay enough.

Ezra - who has the people sense to know when a subject's being changed,if not the self awareness to realise that's what he's doing, nods.

"Yeah, I'm a townie," he admits. "Doesn't mean I knew anything about this place before coming here, though. Kids here don't mix with kids out there much."

"Yea, I can imagine." Spot knows the type - there was a similar school he used to walk past every day to get to his own, and the kids there might as well have been on a different planet for all they paid any attention to him. Not that he paid much attention to them, either.

"What's there to do for fun round here, anyway?" He asks - may as well get some info from somebody who actually knows, since they only moved a week or so before school started, so he hasn't had the chance to investigate for himself.

This shrug is deeper, still one shoulder, but more of a genuine I don't know.

"Depends what you're into," he says. "I guess the school's got all these clubs you can join," except, do they cost extra? Ezra's not sure because he never asks.

"I've got a few friends from before," not 'my old school' because they aren't school friends, "usually we just hang out."

If he's cagey, it's because admitting that he dances in his spare time is still kind of embarrassing for a first conversation.

Clubs are not really Spot's thing, he doesn't wish to submit to the authority of teaching staff any more than absolutely necessary, so he dismisses that idea immediately.

The answer isn't really surprising, it's about average for a kid their age, so even though it doesn't really give Spot any information he doesn't bother to push for more - he would ask where they hung out, but didn't want to come across like he was angling for an invitation, because that's kind of pathetic - and instead after a moment's thought he decides to go for a different question.

"Anything I should avoid?"

Read: What clubs or hangout spots would be social suicide or likely to cause trouble.

"Yeah," and Ezra has no problems naming the neighbourhoods he doesn't recommend, "especially in school uniform," he stresses.

He doesn't think to add places like the under-18 dances, the bowling alley, other places the other kids go, because he doesn't really go there himself. And he doesn't much care about 'social suicide' or he'd think of that too.

Spot nods, making a mental note of the list he's given. At least one of the neighbourhoods is pretty close to his own, but it'll be easy enough to skirt it on his way home if he wants to avoid any trouble.

"Thanks." He says after a moment, since that is useful information after all. He glances down at his lunch - he's only really eaten the sandwich and some chips, but there's other food in there as well that he'll just save for later, and also a couple of homemade cookies wrapped up in foil.

In an uncharacteristic display of friendliness, he unwraps the foil and offers the other cookie to Ezra.

Ezra isn't quite used to sharing food as a matter of course, so the offer takes him by surprise, and it takes him a second to smile and take it. Dessert at the lunch counter today had been Jello, and he can't have that so he was going without.

"Thanks," he says.He nudges his plate a little towards Spot as well, profeering one of his fries in exchange.

"You sure?"

Spot nods, taking a fry more as a reasonable exchange than out of any desire to actually have one (it makes sense to him) before eating his own cookie.

It's just as delicious as he expected it to be, and it's nice to know there's more waiting at home... after his ballet lesson this afternoon.... he's still not sure how he feels about that.

"My grandma made them." He offers, just to keep the conversation going so he doesn't think too much about class.

"Yeah?" Ezra asks, before even tasking a bite, after which his eyes widen again, impressed. "They're really good. She must ba an amazing baker."

No one in his family bakes, ever. So he's already a bit jealous.

Spot nods, approving of the praise - they are good, and they are worth that reaction.

"Yea, well, Irish Catholic Grandmother so it kind of goes with the territory." He shrugs, typical teenage boy not wanting to give away how much he loves his grandma.

Ezra doesn't know much about Irish Catholic, beyond what he's seen on TV,so just nods along like he understands.

"No one in out house bakes," he offers in conversational exchange, trying not to think of the occcasions his real mom used to. "Does she do it a lot?"

"Yea... I mean, she cooks all the time, and a good chunk of it is baking, too. Especially when there's like some church bake sale or whatever going on..." He shrugs.

She's a retired, traditional old lady with 11 grandchildren, so... yea, she bakes. A lot. Especially since Spot came to live with her and she realised how much of a sweet tooth he had.

"Yeah well if she wants any taste testers," Ezra says immediately, "you know where to find me."

He will never say no to free cookies.

Spot is silent for a moment, he glances over at the packed lunch room and then back down at the table, considering the situation.

Ezra seems tolerable enough, and he'd much rather have a place to sit with a person he can stand than face figuring out where he's going to eat lunch every day.

"I'll probably have more tomorrow..." he offers casually

It's so casual, that. It probably should be met with a similarly casual, chill response.

Ezra almost manages it. Sure, his first response is to grin brightly, but he brings that under control and instead just nods, keeping his smirk muted.

"That'd be cool," he allows. "I mean, if she's baking them anyway."

It's fine, it was totally cool - and Spot knows the grin is about the baking, and it's okay to be excited about his grandmother's baking, because it's good. He doesn't want to get judged for being excited himself, obviously, but he's not going to judge anybody else either.

"Yea." Spot nods. He'd said he'll tell her to pack extra, but she always packs too much anyway.

His gaze flicks to the clock and he suppresses a sigh, starting to pack up his things.

It's good not to be judged, because Ezra might have to admit that he's less good at keeping his chill than he likes to think.

He follows Spot's gaze to the clock and completely fails to suppress his own ugh math sigh, after which he stands, bringing his tray with him.

"Enjoy the rest of the first day," he says. "It's not all as bad as it looks."

Though part of him does want to know what Spot will think of Kanan, he doesn't want to be the teacher's son too much.

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