What was going on? Just. What the hell were the teachers doing? He got near the dunk tank just in time to see the principal and vice principal drying each other off. That....that was enough to weird him out. These were grown men. Grown men who could dry themselves off. But no, NO, that wasn't the end of it. They were drying each other awkwardly. REALLY, REALLY awkwardly. If it wasn't obvious enough, everybody else's reactions only served to confirm it. Jesus, Mr Hawthorne, keep it in your damn pants. I mean, you too? He'd already known that Colonel Kirschenzweig was...of an alternate sexuality, but the man was a celebrity. His life wasn't very private, though he was never open enough about it for the Marines to care. He kept his sexuality to himself while he'd served, obviously. If he hadn't, well...he wouldn't have served. Don't Ask Don't Tell wasn't around any more, but it had for most of the time he was serving. 

No. No, oh come on, not you too Colonel. Jacob heard more than he needed to of the Colonel and Flynn's conversation...what the hell was wrong with his teachers?! Did they not see the student standing clearly in their midst?! Apparently not. Whatever. Coughing, Jacob climbed up into the tank when Acacia gave him the go-ahead. His backpack and towel were by the table that Mr Hawthorne and Principal Aldrin were near, exposing his body to the world. Ugh...he hated this. He didn't prepare for this, and his navel wasn't shaved. He was just lucky he had muscles and not a gut. He wasn't sculpted like a god, but his four upper abdominal muscles were plainly visible to anybody watching. There was a small trail of hair going from the aforementioned place to under his bathing suit and he couldn't help but blush, but at least they couldn't see his back. That would be a damned war crime for anybody to have to see. 

When August stepped up to the proverbial plate, Jacob shrugged. [i]Fuckin' figures it'd be that little...just get it over with dammit.[/i] Suddenly, he was much, much less excited about the dunk tank. Yes, it was totally personal. Jacob's life with August was...problematic at best. His roommate had already gotten involved in his usual shenanigans, and almost dragged Jacob down with him when they got yelled at. 

One, and a miss. Two, and a second miss. Jacob almost started to pray...then he was in the water. "AHH!" He called out as his body hit the water. He involuntarily shivered at the coldness before turning around and climbing out of the dunk tank. He made it as quick as possible, lest anybody see his scars. He didn't even get them from some horrible or badass reason, like being abused or getting hurt in a hunting accident or something like that. Nope, it was a boring and uninteresting story that only served to show that Jacob was absurdly hard to kill. Whatever. He got out and made his way over to his towel quickly, running it across his body and covering himself with it. There. Done. Even that little bit of fun got screwed up. And for some reason, he was hungry. Really...REALLY fucking hungry. What? Why was he so hungry? [i] Whatever, Mr Hawthorne cooked steak. I'm just gonna eat that. Now. Damn I'm hungry. [/i] 

Making his way over to the steak, back in his shoes and socks with his towel draped over his torso, he grabbed some steak and a drink of water. Making his way back to his backpack, he cursed when he realized he'd have to fish for his pills inside his uniform. [i] Dammit Rockwell, you done fucked up now. Pray nobody asks what you're doing...[/i]