Jesus, now he'd really have to talk to them. And they looked bored, too. Bored as hell. It was irritating to think on how long this could take.
Letting loose a resigned sigh, Jimmy slapped his change down on the counter and fisted an ice cream bar. If he had to deal with people shitting on him, he might as well deal with it with a cool, refreshing snack in hand.
As usual, both boys were dressed to the nines, considering the hot summer day. Clean and handsome, they looked something more like yacht salesmen than the bored sons of yacht owners. Derby particularly had a glow of handsome wealth about him, like the glow surrounding an angel. White-blonde hair tussling a little in the breeze, Jimmy wondered if his looks actually could kill. Or, at least, if they could make someone else kill for him?
Where was Bif, anyway?
"What's wrong, fellas, where's your dates? Or are your sisters too busy to come out today?"
Might as well try and keep some dignity. Not that he looked the part. Glancing down at his dirt-streaked chest, James inwardly groaned. The one morning he stumbles out of his bed, half naked and hung over, HAS to be the one morning he runs into two of the richest princes in Bullworth. Derby used to work for him, and a little of that old arrangement would still linger sometimes when they spoke, but age and money has a way of distorting memories. Now, if they met at all, it was always in this same bitter, mocking way.
"Or, are you two out on a date together?" Jimmy mused, wagging his ice cream between them. "Aren't you forgetting someone?"
Thank God Jimmy wasn't as stupid as most people made him out to be. Or else his pointed stare at Derby could be taken as a lazy eye.