Work Text:
“Mom's gonna kill me.”
There was a loud thump hitting the table, and Mina removed a headphone from her ear to investigate the source of the noise. Of course, it was Jay. He was faceplanting himself onto the coffee table. Ew, Mina thought, how unclean. Jay would create stains on the table for sure if she didn't do something.
Sighing, Mina tunrned down her soft music and turned her attention to him. “Why is Kang going to kill you?”
Jay groaned and mumbled something. Mina squinted at him and paused her Ipod. “What? I'm sorry, Jay, but I don't understand you when you talk like a child. Say it again, and say it to my face.” She used her hand to pinch his cheek and he let out a small “-hey!” as she gripped his face. “Why are you whining?”
Jay twisted his face into one of discomfort and pulled himself away from Mina, fixing his hair and mumbling something along the lines of “crazy cat lady, I can't believe my Mom's friend's with yours” before getting up and grabbing his bookbag from the other side of the room. He quickly pulled out a yellow folder and slid it over to Mina's side of the table.
Mina raised an eyebrow. “What's in here? Jay, I swear, if it's anything weird-”
“N-no!” Jay rolled his eyes. “Why would there be anything weird in here?”
“Because,” Mina started, slowly opening the folder. She looked back up at Jay before opening it in one swift motion. “You're weird. You hang out with Uncle Seven all the time, talking about...memes?” She shivered and opened the folder. Inside was a few papers and a report card with big red markings on it. She chose to scan those, her eyes widening when they did.
“....Whoa. Jay. Kang is going to kill you.”
“Ugh, you think?” Jay slammed his head back down on the table, creating a louder thunk than before. Mina recoiled in disgust. “Don't do that. This is a nice table, most likely from the Middle East, and you're just greasing it with your hair like it's nothing. It's disgusting. Stop it.” She hit him with his folder and then laid it out on the table. “So...what are you going to do?”
Jay rubbed his head, glaring at Mina and rubbing his head. “I don't know! That's why I wanted your help! You're good at school!”
Mina scanned his report card another time and stifled a giggle. “Mhm, I don't have a 72 in math.” At that Jay almost knocked her over trying to see the paper.
“72?! I thought it said 75!”
“I guess you're doing worse than you thought.”
“God-Mina!”