Chapter Text
The bet is not Amy’s fault. It’s Jake’s. Okay, fine, to be painfully honest, it’s a mix- but mostly Jake’s.
Which means it’s not totally her fault when she’s sitting in detention because of a lunch fight that got a little (a lot) out of hand. A lunch fight that she might’ve, maybe started when she threw Boyle’s gross lunch at Jake, who then threw Terry’s yogurt at her and that might’ve escalated into the biggest lunch fight in the history of Brooklyn 99th High School, but not her fault.
(Sort of.)
It was not her idea to be in a bet for highest grade with Jake-was-that-due-today-Peralta. But Amy is a competitive person, which could be her demise in such situations. For example, a year ago, when she got kicked out of the last magnet school she was at.
(Not her fault that her model volcano spewed real lava and set the gym on fire. They should've invested in fire-proof walls)
It all started when Jake got a higher grade than her in Holt’s monthly quiz. She was shocked, startled even, when she saw the shining A+ on his exam, compared to the slightly duller A on hers.
Jake didn’t get good grades, Jake didn’t even do his homework, much less study for Holt’s exam. He was proud of his badge of C’s, wearing and flaunting them as one does A’s. Jake was lazy, she was not.
So, obviously, she exclaims, “You so did not get a higher grade than me!’, making Holt raise his eyebrow in that sort-of judgy way, in that way that makes her straighten up in seat. “I mean, Jake how did you get such a high grade?” she chokes on her fake laughs. Jake watches on in amusement, quite used to seeing her put her metaphorical foot in her mouth.
“Miss. Santiago, are you implying that I am unable to grade correctly?” Holt asks from the front of the room. The stiffness of his shoulders and the unimpressed eye twitch of his eye makes Amy swallow uneasily.
“Definitely not, sir. It’s just that-“
“Just what?” Once again, Amy’s breath is sticking in her lungs as she fails to think of anything to say, not wanting to disrupt the rapport she has with Holt so far.
The problem is, there’s not exactly any rapport. She’s always been class favorite, always, but it seems that Jake –yes, Jake, is Holt’s pet project this semester. Amy’s had this before, teachers who took her diligent manners as unauthentic and it’s never bothered her before—much. But, Holt is the only teacher she actually cares about, the one teacher in the whole school whose class is an actual challenge.
And, also, she’s pretty sure he’s thisfreakingclose to giving her a recommendation to Major Magnet School, the only magnet school in the twenty mile radius that she wasn’t blacklisted or kicked out from. The only school she wants to attend for her senior year.
“I was just congratulating Jake on his excellent grade.” She fake grins, as Jake grins very much for reals next to her, knowing very well how much this is killing her.
“Yep. She was just admitting how amazing I am while making sexually-suggestive remarks. Now, I don’t usually condone them but Amy just has a certain way with words.” Jake leans back on his chair and Amy glares at his relaxed figure. Jake winks.
“I would appreciate if you would both separate your personal life from your scholarly one.” Holt remarks as Amy sputters, the words lodged in her throat. Because, gross, Holt is not implying what she thinks he’s implying.
Except he is and gross.
“Uh, sir-” she begins but Jake beats her to it.
“I’ll try, Mr. Holt but Amy is the crazy one.”
“Well, please keep your hands away from each other during class time.”
“Will do.”
Holt continues class before Amy can comment.
Amy glares at him, promising to punch his forearm the hardest she can as soon as they get out of class. Jake just grins back.
After class, Jake gets his hard punch, just as promised and well-earned.
“Ow, Amy! I bruise easily, you know.” He rubs his arm and follows after as she makes her way to her locker. Amy finds it hard to care.
His sneakers squeak down the hallway as Amy dodges her way to her locker.
“Shut it. You know what you did. How did you get a higher grade than me? Did you cheat?”
“Wow, I am hurt. I thought we were friends, Amy. Why is it your first thought that I cheated? Maybe I’m just smarter than you.” he says so close to her ear she can hear his breath. Amy bats him away and he chuckles.
“I really doubt you’re smarter than me.”
“The test begs to differ.”
“Jake, you thought ricotta was a type of rice.” she stops at her locker, rolling her eyes as she begins to unlock it.
“And I’m not the first one to make that observation, Amy.”
“Not an observation.” She retorts and opens her locker, crossing her arms, waiting for an answer to her previous question. She’s actually curious to see what he has to say to answer for himself. “So?”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Fine, Gina’s cousin took him last year and he had all the answers.”
“So you cheated?” Amy says in a deadpan voice, putting away her English notebook and taking out her Science book, all neatly labeled and organized, just the ways she likes it. Jake teases her for it but he’s no one to judge; his locker looks like a garbage can and so does his backpack, where he stores his undone homework and unopened textbooks.
“Eh, I don’t like to put labels on it.”
“I do. It’s called cheating.” she says. “Meanwhile, I studied for eight hours and for what?”
“To get a lower grade than me, obviously.”
Amy just rolls her eyes, closing her locker and turning on her heel to the cafeteria. Jake follows closely after her, his sneakers squeaking behind her. She doesn’t need to turn to know he’s wearing that infuriating grin when he knows that he messed with her, when he knows that she’s annoyed. It’s a look he wears often, at least in the last eight months that she’s been in the 99th.
The first day that she came to the 99th, he sat right next to her in Holt’s class, the class Amy was anticipating the most and he whispered loudly to her all class long. It was not even interesting things but just side comments to whatever Holt was saying. She had sent him a side-glare, not wanting her first day to be sullied with a detention but he didn’t relent. Finally, she said, “Please stop talking” and Holt had stopped class, questioning to know what was important enough to derail from the lesson.
She had pointed and had said, “He did it! I wasn’t even talking.” Holt was not impressed and chastised her for raising her voice.
She had turned and glared at Jake, who was smiling in that annoying way.
After class, he had tried to introduce himself and she had walked the other way. Unlucky for her, Rosa, her first friend at 99th, was basically best friends with Jake, so she had to deal with him all the time.
Over time, she developed a ‘Spidey sense’ sort of premonition to that dumb smile.
She stops, making him bump into her, and turns. He’s closer to her than she’d thought and she pauses for a second, taken aback, before stepping back and clearing her throat.
“This was nothing but a fluke. I will get the higher grade on the midterm and then Holt will write me my recommendation.”
Jake narrows his eyes, stepping forward, inhibiting her space again. “Willing to bet?” he asks. Amy scoffs, rolling her eyes, stepping back automatically. “Or are you too chicken?”
It wasn’t the first time they bet on stuff, they always bet what color shirt Hitchcock would be wearing or what variation of disgusting meat Boyle would be bringing.
This, however, is different. This is about grades, one of the few things that Amy really cares about so, now, this is personal.
Amy narrows her eyes. “Are you?”
“Nope.” He replies, popping the ‘p’ in that way he knows will just annoy Amy. He grins when he catches Amy grinding her teeth.
“Fine.” She replies because she’s more than sure that this was but a one-time fluke and nothing else. She’ll show Jake Peralta who’s the better at Holt’s class. “I’ll bet.”
“What are you losers arguing about?” Rosa asks, sidling over them, Boyle in tow. Jake and Amy’s eyes remain on one another, not willing to be the first one to look away.
“Amy’s jealous that I got a higher grade in Holt’s class and it just kills her to know that Holt likes me more than her.” Jake replies, his eyes not leaving hers.
“I am not jealous!” she retorts, her voice a little too high and shrill. “And, honestly, I don’t even know why he likes you so much.” Jake grins. “Not that I care, because, I don’t but-” she trails off because Jake’s grinning and Rosa and Boyle don’t look convinced.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s my devilishly handsome face?”
“I was thinking more along the fact that he’s taking you along like a pet project, you know, as one does to a sickly cat.” She retorts.
“Don’t listen to her, Jake. Your face is fine just the way it is.” Boyle pipes up, the ever so loving friend.
“Thanks, bud. And Amy, Aw, cute; you’re jealous.” He wags his finger close to her face with that elated smirk back on his face.
“Am not!” she smacks his hand away, reveling in the sharp slap it emits. His smirk doesn’t falter, if anything, he looks smugger than ever.
“Sure, Amy. Let’s try to pretend that you aren’t totally dying of a jealousy at the thought of Holt liking me over you.”
“That’s because I’m not.” She raises her eyebrows hotly, crossing her arms. “And he doesn’t.”
“So, you on for the bet?”
“What bet?” Rosa asks.
“Ooh, is it about whose going to wash the other’s hair because, if so, I have this great shampoo-“
“Nope.” Jake interrupts. “Not about that, Boyle.”
“Jake bet me that he could get a higher grade than me on Holt’s midterm.” Amy answers, raising her eyebrows. Boyle and Rosa share a look.
“What’s that look supposed to mean?” Jake asks. “I’m plenty smart. I watched CNN last night and I only fell asleep once!”
“Dude, come on, you gotta admit that Amy has the bigger advantage over you.”
“Boyle?”
“Sorry, Jakey but Rosa’s right.” Boyle nods. “She stole the valedictorian place as soon as she got here.”
“Well, if Amy’s such a smarty-pants, then how did I get a higher grade than her in the last Holt test?”
“By cheating.” Amy answers with a shrug. “You literally admitted to that earlier.”
“I said I didn’t want to put a label on it.”
Amy rolls her eyes. “Fine. If we’re gonna do that bet, we gotta have rules.”
“Okay. First rule:” Jake begins. “You can’t fall in love with me.”
Amy scoffs, perplexed at the sheer absurdity of it all. “You wish.”
“You say this now but four months from now you’re going to be throwing rocks at my window, wanting to confess your love.”
“Don’t count on it.” she says with an eye roll. “Second rule: no cheating. At all. If one or the other is caught cheating, there’s an automatic disqualification. So, no asking Gina’s cousin Isaac for the answers and no copying off of my tests.”
“Fine.” Jake replies. Rosa and Boyle watch on, both interested and a little amazed that Jake is digging himself into that hole. Boyle even looks a little worried and feverish.
“What are you guys even betting on?” Rosa asks. Jake and Amy share a look, both of them surprised by the fact that this could entail some sort of prize for either of them. Their earlier bets never really did.
“I don’t…” Amy trails off.
“Bragging rights.” Jake says with a shrug.
“It’ll hardly be a brag for Amy, though. She always gets the highest grades.” Boyle interrupts.
“And once again, buddy, thanks for all the faith.” Jake mutters, Boyle cringes.
“Sorry, Jakey.”
“Boyle’s right.” Rosa states with a nod towards Amy. “Amy’s gonna win.” Amy beams.
“What do you think, Boyle?” Jake asks.
“I still don’t think you should do it, Jakey.”
“Oh! I know! You can lend me your car for the weekend. Patrick O’Hannedy is having an organizing seminar and my mom refuses to drive me; she says they’re filled with old people and old people give her hives.”
“What? No. I’m not letting you take my precious baby to some lame convention; you’re gonna fill it with nerd germs. That car has gotten me laid precisely four and half times, I don’t want your weird nerd germs to scare the charm away.”
“I can’t believe you still believe in cooties.” Amy says. “Also, gross.” Amy scrunches up her nose in disgust. “Remind me to Clorox all of the car before I step one foot into it.” Jake rolls his eyes lightly as he thinks it over.
“Wait, wasn’t the half time with Marge?” Rosa asks with a grin.
“With Marge?” Boyle winces a little. “Oh, Jake…”
“Rosa! I told you that in confidence.” He hisses lowly. Rosa just smirks. “Fine.” Jake nearly bites, Amy beams, victorious. “But, if you’re gonna put my precious baby through that nerd-fest then you’re gonna have to go through something on the same boring scale.”
“Depends on what.”
“Nope. You gotta say yes.”
“Fine.”
“You’re gonna have to go on a date with me.”
Amy face goes slack, her beaming expression turning into one of confusion and nervousness. Rosa lets out a loud laugh, obviously entertained by the two dumbos she called friends.
Boyle, on the other hand, lets out a loud squeal that Amy doesn’t detect; the harsh crescendo of her heartbeat in her ears was enough.
“W-What? A date?” Amy nearly screeches. Jake had never shown any romantic interest in her. She desperately racks her brain for any romantic indication she might’ve given him, but finds none. She started dating Teddy pretty early on in the school year, with their relationship ending a month prior.
Sure, there was Hitchcock’s party, which they spent on the roof eating peanuts and talking but that meant nothing. Jake was dating Sofia at the time and she was dating Teddy, too.
Just two friends hanging out, that’s all it was.
“That’s right.” He nods a little, a grin creeping onto his face. “You’re gonna go through the worst date of your life. Unless-” he lords over her, smug expression still intact. “You’re too chicken.”
Amy clenches her teeth, grinding them. A part of her wants to tell Jake to go to hell but the other part of Amy does not back out from a challenge. Especially, a grade centered challenged, in which Amy excels.
So, she went over it in her head, trying to see the pros and cons: if she won, which she most certainly would, she would have a ride to the convention and more organized stuff. There was never too much organization.
On the other hand, on the rare chance that she lost, she would have to go on a date with Jake. Jake, who had never shown romantic interest in her and whom she had never thought of in that way.
Was it worth it? She really couldn’t decide but the spark in Jake’s eyes made her mind up.
She would win, she would make sure of it.
Boyle and Rosa were watching eagerly on, although Boyle looked as eager as can be.
“Fine.” She holds her hand out, arranging her face into a focused expression. “It’s a bet.” Jake beams a little and shakes her hand.
“I can’t wait till you’re crying in my car.” he says as he leans in close and grins in her face.
“I’ll be crying of happiness as I’m driving my way to the convention.” She pauses. “On bleach rinsed seats, of course.”
“Gross, but May the best one win.” Amy raises her eyebrows, smirking a little.
“So, me.”
-
That was then. Now, a month later, Amy sits beneath Mr. Holt’s watchful eye as she plucks pieces of strawberry yogurt from her hair. Jake, sits to her left, reeking of goat stew. They’re the only two in the classroom, watching in the quiet as the clock slowly passes.
Jake sighs.
“Mr. Holt, can I go to the restroom?” he asks.
“The correct way to ask it is, ‘May I go to the restroom’ and no you may not. You lost your bathroom privileges when you threw Mr. Jeffords’s yogurt at Ms. Santiago’s face.” Amy smiles in triumph at Jake. He sticks his tongue out at her. “I wouldn’t smile, Ms. Santiago. You were not innocent in the fight.”
“But, sir”- she chirps, beside her, Jake rolls his eyes-“I was merely responding to a claim that Mr.Peralta stated.”
“A claim? Oh, my god, Amy. This isn’t’ the people’s court.” Jake says. “Sir, I told her she was cheating, because she was! It’s not fair to ask Rosa to help you study, you have to this all by yourself!”
“So, it is fair to ask Boyle to proofread your essays?” Amy retorts. “Boyle got a ‘B’ in English! Do you even want to win this bet?”
“Bet?” Holt asks. Jake and Amy freeze. “What is this ‘bet’.” He quotes.
“Uhm, you see, sir.” Amy chuckles a little, trying to dig herself out of the hole she so stupidly fell into. She doesn’t want Holt to think she’s immature and not give her the recommendation letter.
“Well?” Holt asks. Jake and Amy turn to one another, trying to read the other’s eyes.
Finally, Jake shrugs and says, “I bet Amy that I would get a higher grade in your midterm.”
“I was not made aware of this bet.” Holt narrows his eyes.
“Well, sir, this bet doesn’t really affect our academics or-” she stops at Holt’s unmoving gaze. “Or does it? Oh, God.” she turns to Jake in fear. Jake rolls his eyes.
“We didn’t tell you because it’s just going to higher our grades nothing else.” He mutters to Amy, “See, that was easy, Ames. No need to have a heart attack.
“What are the prizes?”
Now, Amy blushes because the bet--that Jake started, by the way—seems very childish and frankly, embarrassing in front of Holt.
She cringes as Jake begins to talk.
“If she wins, and she won’t, Amy gets my car for the weekend so she can attend a boring lecture on fonts-“
“It is a seminar about different ways to organize.” She turns to Holt and tries her best teacher’s pet smile. “And it’s very educational, sir-“
“And if I win, which I will, Amy has to go on the worst date of her freaking life with me.”
“Oh.” Holt furrows his eyebrows. Amy squirms in her seat.
“I promise you, sir, that I would not being doing this if it was not about the educational prospect that I would getting-“
“Please stop talking.” Jake interrupts and Amy frowns at him. “And we all know you’re actually doing this because you’re so obviously in love with me.” Amy scoffs, forgetting all about Holt.
“Yes, I cannot live without you, Jake.” She says dramatically. “You are the only reason I breathe and live. I so love guys who are so unhealthy they can’t climb two flights of stairs-“
“Well, you dated Teddy, so that’s saying something.”
“Should I bring up, that weird Rossi girl and that date to the cemetery?” she says
“I told you that in confidence!” Jake hisses lowly.
“Enough!” Holt booms. Amy jumps in her seat. “Detention is over. Please leave my classroom before you begin any sort of brawl.”
The two of them stand, although Amy is walking a little more wilted than the relieved Jake and she turns to Holt, ready to speak, when Holt shakes his head. She nods and drags her feet outside.
“This is all your fault.” Amy says when they’re outside of the classroom. She punches him on the arm and he hisses, rubbing it.
“I was not the one who threw Boyle’s stew at me.”
“You started it!” she replies. “Now Holt thinks that I’m immature and now he’s never going to give me my recommendation letter to Major Magnet School.”
“I thought you were kicked out because you set the gym on fire.”
“Not out of Major.” She says with a head shake. “And, by the way, I don’t understand why I was even kicked out. I did nothing wrong.” Amy retorts as they walk out of the school.
“I think it’s the fact that you set the whole gym on fire.”
“Whatever.” They stop at the parking lot, pausing before they go their separate ways: Jake to his mother’s car and Amy to the subway. Jake’s mom, the school art teacher, waves at Amy from the car and Amy waves back. Amy had 3rd period with her and loved talking art with her. Karen’s major in college was Art-History, the major that Amy was considering as well. Amy loved her class.
She also secretly wondered how Jake could’ve come from someone as wonderful as her.
Jake’s eyes roam over her face a little and he stuffs his hands into his jacket before he speaks.
“We can stop the bet, if you want.”
“Why? Do you want to?” Amy asks.
“No, I don’t. I just-I just don’t want you to get in trouble or, you know, jeopardize your whole future for some stupid bet.” He nearly mumbles and avoids her eyes, although his eyes do not stray from her face.
The air is a little heavy and Amy’s stomach is doing weird flips, a really strange feeling that she normally doesn’t associate with Jake. Her skin starts to itch at the look in his eyes so she does what Jake does best, which is, change the mood in an uncomfortable situation.
“Are you admitting defeat?” Amy asks, her eyes playful and Jake scoffs, more comfortable now that that thick cloud of uncomfortableness no longer lingers.
“You wish. I’m giving you a way out because I know how much you need it. I mean, you got an eighty in your last test! You’re going to fail.”
“You got a seventy.” She replies with an eye roll. “And, you wish.”
Jake smiles. Amy finds herself smiling back.
“See you tomorrow."