I have a head canon that at some point before signing with the Falcs, Jack made an appointment with a cardiologist, to deal with a heart problem he noticed developing the end of his senior year. The doctor kept assuring Jack his heart was fine, but Jack knew all the racing and skipping of beats he felt in his chest was part of a bigger medical issue.
Finally, on their sixth appointment, the doctor gave Jack a diagnosis:
“There’s some type of
arrhythmia, I know it."
"Jack, we’ve done 5 stress tests, you could run the Boston marathon right now, comfortably."
"But you see, whenever I walk into the Haus kitchen, I feel the fluttering. It’s significant. Also, when Bittle and I went to the beach Saturday, my heart started hammering, the Falcs are going to find some cardiac problem in the physical."
"It’s the guy, Jack."
"Did you never notice that every occurrence involves this Bittle person you won’t stop talking about?"
"I don’t talk about Bittle that much-"
"Jack - I know he switched from unsalted butter to salted butter for his Moomaw’s tarts, because the taste was off. I know he has a cute little crinkle in his nose when he laughs and the fact that his laughter somehow induces chest pain in you. I know that he wore his red shorts four times in the last three weeks - and that you had a cardiac episode every time he bent over in them. It’s the guy, Jack."
"So…you’re saying Bittle is bad for my heart?"
"I need you to leave."
"Is there something I can do? Like a low-Bittle diet? I can’t cut him out completely. Should I ask him to stop wearing the shorts? Maybe if he wore them more I’d get used to them? What about when he dances to Beyonce, are you sure that’s the reason my heart st-"
"Leave, and send me an invitation to your wedding."